WORLD 21711 B A N K December 2000 -Historic Cities andSacred Sites Cultural Roots for Urban Futures Ismail Serageldin * Ephim Shluger * Joan Martin-Brown Editors AV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A Pt,,_ Historic Cities andSacred Sites Cultural Roots for Urban Futures E TH E WO R LD BAN K Histric ite and Sacred Sites Cultural Roots for Urban Futures Ismail Serageldin u Ephim Shluger * Joan Martin-Brown Editors THE The _IINISTRY- r 4 s 5~~~~~!~' OF CULTURE DBANK Government ABRAZILiAN! |NESCG BANK ofDenmark UGOVERNMENT_ Copyright 2001 The International Bank for Reconstruction and Development / THE WORLD BANK 1818 H Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20433, USA All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America First printing December 2000 1 2 3 4 03 02 01 00 The World Bank holds the copyright on this book on behalf of all the institutions that contributed to its development: the Government of Denmark; Ministerio da Cultura, Brazilian Government; Banco Safra; UNESCO; and the World Bank. 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ISBN: 0-8213-4904-X Design and art direction: Miki Fernandez, ULTRAdesigns Cover design: Francis Rubin, ULTRAdesigns Cover photographs: "Greeting at the Market Kotor" by Fritz VVentzel, 1906, courtesy Volkmar Wentzel Collection; "Mostar Bridge" courtesy World Monuments Fund. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been requested. The World Bank 1818 H Street N.W. Washington, D.C. 20433 USA Telephone: 202-477-1234 Facsimile: 202-477-6391 Internet: www.worldbank.org E-mail: feedback@worldbank.org Contents Acknowledgments ix Introduction Ismail Serogeldin and Ephim Shluger Xi Part I Preserving Historic Cities and Sacred Sites: The Problematique 1 Editors' Note 1 1 The Spirit of the Cities Seyyed Hossein Nasr 3 2 Synagogue-Church-Mosque: A Comparison of Typologies Bezalel Narkiss 11 3 Resources for Sustaining Cultural Identity Stefano Bianca 18 4 The Grand Shrine of Ise: Preservation by Removal and Renewal Isoo Tokoro 22 5 Stewardship: An Architect's Perspective Norman L. Koonce 30 Part 11 Governance: Planning and Management of Heritage Preservation 33 Editors' Note 33 6 Brazil: Challenges of a Multiethnic and Multicultural Society Froncisco C. Weffort 35 7 Policies of Historic and Cultural Heritage Preservation in Brazil Pedro ToddeiNeto 41 8 Preservation Policies and Financing in the Netherlands Alle Elbers 46 9 Strategies for Preserving the Historic Identity of Bergen Siri Myrvoll 52 10 Protecting Architectural Heritage in Expanding Metropolises Michael Sorkin 59 11 At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects Michael M. Cernea 67 Part III Rescuing Heritage at Risk: Reconstruction, Transformation and Adaptation 89 Editors' Note 89 12 Reconstructing the Basilica of Assisi Giorgio Croci 91 13 Adaptive Reuse of the Arsenale Complex, Venice Maurizio Sabini 98 14 Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation in Lijiang Geoffrey Read and Katrinka Ebbe 102 15 Adaptive Reuse of Mexico's Historic Architecture: Tampico and Tlacoltapan Alfonso Govela 115 v vI Historic Cities and Sacred Sites: Cultural Roots for Urban Futures 16 First Synagogue in the Americas: Kahal Kadosh Zur Israel Synagogue in Recife Carlos Alberto Vieira 124 Part IV Economic Transition and Urban Heritage Preservation 129 Editors' Note 129 17 Strategies for Sustainable Urban Preservation MichelBonnette 131 18 St. Petersburg's Pasts Compete for Its Future Blair A. Ruble 138 19 Development and Preservation of the Historic Center of St. Petersburg Victor E. Polishchuk 147 20 Strategic Plan of St. Petersburg Leonid Limonov 150 21 Bazaars in Victorian Arcades: Conserving Bombay's Colonial Heritage Rahul Mehrotra 1 54 22 Economics of Investing in Heritage: Historic Center of Split Maha J. Armaly, Stefono P. Pagiola, and Alain Bertaud 165 23 Models of Transformation in Saudi Arabia AliShuoibi 180 24 Addressing the Social Context in Cultural Heritage Management: Historic Cairo Soad Eddin Ibrohim 186 Part V New Approaches to Sustainable Preservation of Natural Resources and Built Heritage 193 Editors' Note 193 25 Brazil's Monumenta Program: Sustainable Preservation of Historic Cities Arthur Darling 195 26 What Happened to Main Street? Kennedy Smith 202 27 Involving the People and Municipal Bonds in Development and Preservation in Ahmedabad Keshav Varma 210 28 Treatment of Cultural Landscapes in the United States Charles A. Birnboum 218 29 Investment Impacts of Tourism in Historic Districts Maurice Desthuis-Froncis 231 30 Preserving a Historic City: Economic and Social Transformations of Fez Mona Serageldin 237 Part VI Technical Applications: Surveying, Valuing, and Documenting Heritage Assets 245 Editors' Note 245 31 Listing as an Instrument in Managing Change to Historic Buildings Martin Cherry 247 32 Heritage Surveying and Documentation in Japan Takeshi Nakagawa 258 Contents vii 33 Preserving the Cultural Significance of Landscapes Achva Benzinberg Stein 261 34 Establishing Priorities for the Preservation of Historic Cities Lauro Lage-Filho and Arthur Darling 267 35 Quilombos: Preserving Afro-Brazilian Roots Dulce Maria Pereiro 274 36 Cost-Efficient Virtual Preservation of Synagogues Aliza Cohen-Mushlin 278 37 Computer Reconstruction of German Synagogues Marc Grellert 286 38 Preserving Jewish Heritage The Center forJewish Art of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem 290 39 The Synagogue and Its Sacred Space Bezalel Norkiss and the Index of Jewish Art 318 40 Analysis and Reconstruction: The Residence-Church in Wurzburg and the "Temple of Jews" in Worlitz Harmen Thies 325 Part VII Preserving the Sacred Sites and Cultural Roots 333 Editors' Note 333 41 Sacred Sites in Traditional American Indian Culture Patricia L. Parker 335 42 Traditional Kuarup Rituals of Alto Xingu, Pantanal, and Southwest Brazil Marcos Tereno 344 43 Sacred Spaces and the Search for Authenticity in the Kathmandu Valley Eduard F Sekler 348 44 Axum: Toward the Conservation of Ethiopia's Sacred City Joseph King 358 45 The Art of Convivencia in Spain and Morocco Vivian B. Mann 365 46 Sacred Places and Historic Cities: Preservation Governance and Practicalities Laurent Levi-Strauss 375 Part VIII Partnerships in Action 383 Editors' Note 383 47 The Partnership for Mostar Lowrence M. Hannah 385 48 Revitalization of Historic Cities with Private Sector Involvement: Lessons from Latin America Eduardo Rojas 391 49 Historic Cities: The Sense of Place, Sacred and Secular Harold Williams 401 50 Cultural Institutions: Between History and the Avant-Garde Luis Monreal 406 51 The Role of the Private Sector in Cultural Heritage Preservation Marilyn Perry 411 Illustration Credits 418 g~~~~~4 l'kt :r 'c' w 1%t .t, R~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ . Vtt.%& S 1 , ~~~~~~~~~~~W 5-t Sacred tree and a shrine, Beith Hanania Galilee, Israel. Acknowledgments T he Editors are grateful to the support received from the World Bank, the Government of Denmark, the Ministry of Culture of Brazil, and Banco Safra in Brazil to produce this vol- ume. We are also grateful to the authors for sharing their knowledge, wisdom, and inspi- ration, and for their sustained scholarly interest in completing this book. We would like to thank the co-sponsors, who provided resources to the Symposium on the Preservation of Historic Cities and Sacred Places, organized at the World Bank in May 1999, dur- ing which some chapters in this volume were presented and discussed. These co-sponsors were: Aga Khan Trust for Culture, American Institute of Architects, CEC International Partners, Center for Jewish Art of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Council of Europe, Eisenhower Foundation, Government of Brazil, Inter-American Development Bank (IADB), International Centre for the Study of the Preservation and Restoration of Cultural Property (ICCROM), International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS), J. Paul Getty Trust, Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation (NORAD), Organization of World Heritage Cities, United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO), United States National Park Service, World Bank, and World Monuments Fund. We appreciate the expert contributions to the symposium of Roberto Chavez, Kreszentia Duer, Alexandre Marc, Bezalel Narkiss, Brooke Shearer, and Achva Stein. Our warmest thanks go to Debra Cooper and Marc Halerow for their tireless support in putting together the symposium and to the following colleagues for their behind-the-scenes support: Fatiha Amar, Katrinka Ebbe, Yoko Eguchi, Inas Ellaham, Edie Fattu, Arlene Fleming, Marina Galvani, Tomoko Hirata, Sarwat Hussain, Tsige Makonnen, Christine Stover, and Feroza Vatcha. Several individuals advised us on this publication, including Michael Cernea and Bezalel Narkiss. We deeply appreciate the work of Alicia Hetzner, principal editorial consultant, and the contributions of editorial consultants Christine M. Smyrski-Shluger, Sheldon I. Lippman, Alison Raphael, and Jacqueline Edlund-Braun. Paola Scalabrin and Randi Park coordinated the print production. Finally, our gratitude goes to the team at ULTRAdesigns for their invaluable work in designing this book. Ismail Serageldin Ephim Shluger Joan Martin-Brown ix '4 TP -I1 -,vS,'$i. MAN~~U - _ '; A}; or_ _ ~1 j"~.__ _ ;_ flmr Ci, -1e ,c. Ojro Preto, Minas Gerais, a national monumnent and a WVorld Heritage Site. Introduction The urban population of the developing world will triple over the next two generations. For the first time the majority of humanity will be classified as urban rather than rural. The economic and social consequences of this huge demographic shift are the context for this volume. Public authorities are challenged to be effective in guiding change, under the severe strain of scarce public funds. One of these challenges is to protect urban heritage. A great proportion of the 100 historic cities and nearly 200 sacred sites on the World Heritage List are located in the developing world. How do historic cities fare against the population pres- sures, crumbling infrastructure, and eroding economic base of the developing world? And what about historic sacred sites, which resonate so strongly with individuals and with nations? Sacred sites are as much at risk as the urban tissue of historic cities. This book investigates the tolls that overpopulation and poverty often take on historic cites and sacred sites. More importantly, it demonstrates that taking care of humanity's cultural heritage can regenerate the self-esteem and self-identities of disempowered peoples and revive moribund economies. Cultural heritage preservation and poverty reduction are closely intertwined. The fight against poverty and exclusion requires promoting solidarity and a better understanding of the obstacles to participation and empowerment of the disenfranchised. Solidarity and empowerment cannot occur unless the sense of common purpose, shared values, and affinity with others is anchored in a notion of a common culture. The self-esteem of the poor and the sense of community of local action groups are built on trust, common language, and a shared heritage. Historic and sacred sites are part of that shared heritage. Recent studies on social capital, or social cohesion, and on the effectiveness of the poor's responses to challenges have emphasized that a sense of shared culture is crucial to a people's success in overcoming poverty. However, the building blocks that create this sense of a common culture are only partially recognized in the prevailing economic development paradigm. The Comprehensive Development Framework (CDF), advanced by World Bank President James D. Wolfensohn, pioneered the specific inclusion of culture and identity as essential elements of a more holistic development approach. xi xii Introduction This concept of culture in development does not view culture as an elite activity for the few but as the essence of being for all. Eduard Sekler states in this book: There are many ways in which a cultural identity is formed and maintained. Much of...the process has to do with the intangible cultural heritage of a body of traditions and usage, rites, poetry, song, and dance. A great deal of all of this is passed on orally through generations. Consequently, its survival is always threatened.... Tangible cultural heritage has the great advantage over its intangible counterpart that with proper care it will remain authentic over centuries. As long as historic monuments remain without falsification and misleading imitations, they will, even in a neglected state, create a sense of continuity that is an essential part of cultural identity.' This volume makes an important contribution to the understanding of culture's function in nur- turing economic development by addressing one element in the development of identity: the sense of ploce. The sense of place and the feeling of roots are major components in building social cohesion, or social capital. The concept of roots introduces the physical dimensions of the loca- tion, the buildings, and the spaces that have special significance to people and that help define identity and sense of belonging. Kevin Lynch has argued in What Time Is This Place?that individ- uals' sense of well-being and resulting effective action depend on stable references from the past that provide a sense of continuity.2 Historic cities and sacred sites are the very references that connect past, present, and future. Lynch stresses that governments should protect built heritage so that cities can be "collages of time": spaces that express continuity of time as layered by nat- ural elements, human habitats, and monuments. The preservation of historic cities and sacred sites requires sensitive treatment and an under- standing of the essential as compared to the less important. It also requires skillful institutional and financial engineering of the viable economic reuse of the historic quarters as much as the techniques of restoration. Many of the most important lessons of how to successfully manage change in the urban fabric of cities and the preservation of their historic significance and char- acter have come from the industrialized world. Therefore, the case experiences depicted in this book come not only from the South and the East, but also from the North and the West. The purpose of this volume is to expand the dialogue on state-of-the-art preservation approaches based on actual cases set in a range of economic and social contexts. In this evolving field practice informs theory as much as the other way around.' The range of human activities involved in cultur- al heritage preservation is immense. The present collection provides the reader with a rich treatment of the issues, approaches, and experiences for preserving the cultural roots of urban futures. Cultural Roots Cultural matrices contain elements of the human collective memory-language, beliefs and ritu- als, myths, and values. These are represented through a variety of art forms and are transmitted from generation to generation. Cultural references and signs are essential to the formation of national, group, and individual identities. The preservation of cultural heritage is central to Historic Cities and Sacred Sites: Cultural Roots for Urban Futures xiii protecting a sense of who we are-a meaningful reference in our culturally diverse world. However, Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka has warned: ...culture is a matrix of infinite possibilities and choice. From within the same cultural matrix, we can extract arguments and strategies for degradation or ennoblement of our species, for its enslavement or liberation, for the suppression of its productive potential or its enhancement.4 Decisions that affect culture and the responsibility for such choices must be predicated on a clear and transparent process, which, to be genuine and representative, should be open and participa- tory, hence inclusive and empowering of local communities. From an operational point of view, preserving tangible cultural assets in their multiple forms may influence development project performance. It may also determine whether local communities take "ownership" of the results of project activities, which determines whether the benefits are sustained over time. Evidence from recent social fund programs suggests that positive synergy can be created by linking cultural concerns with poverty reduction programs. To be effective, development processes aimed at mitigating poverty must understand culture, or take culture into account, for two reasons. First, culture influences what is valued in a society. In particular, it shapes development outcomes that the poor will value. Second, culture influences how individ- uals, communities, and informal and formal institutions respond to developmental changes. In these ways the knowledge of culture facilitates effective poverty reduction. In the 1990s cultural preservation movements energized public opinion around the world con- cerning the importance of protecting cultural assets. They elicited technical support to halt the progressive degradation of built heritage and to rescue heritage at risk. From Brazil to Italy, and from India to the Netherlands and Norway, civic groups have successfully advocated for improved heritage preservation approaches. Typical issues dealt with the need to improve legal mecha- nisms, to adopt national strategies to protect local and national listed heritage, to improve preservation management approaches, and to link built heritage and sacred places with protect- ed areas. In many countries public policies have responded to such appeals by improving perti- nent legislation and by adopting new mechanisms to finance the reconstruction and conserva- tion of historic cities and neighborhoods. In 1995 UNESCO's World Commission on Culture and Development published Our Cultural Diversity. This report advanced new perspectives on the role of traditional and contemporary cul- tures and their importance in socially and economically sustainable development.' The report argues convincingly that the prevalent model of development based solely on the narrow yard- stick of economic growth is outmoded. That model ignores both the environmental consequences and cultural dimension of development. The report concludes that, above all, cultural diversity is here to stay. It is a manifestation of the limitless creativity of the human spirit. Its aesthetic value can unfold in multiple ways and stimulate the production and marketing of new and unique products. Finally, cultural diversity is a reservoir of knowledge and experience of social and envi- ronmental interactions that can inform improved sustainable approaches to using natural resources and protecting built heritage. xiv Introduction Historic Cities Efforts to preserve historic architecture and revitalize historic cities and sacred sites have gained new momentum throughout the world. The focus on historic centers such as Fez, Morocco; Ouro Preto and Olinda, Brazil; Quito, Ecuador; Bilbao and Barcelona, Spain; St. Petersburg and Moscow, Russia; Bergen, Norway; Mostar, Bosnia; and Lijiang, China--is reshaping and reviving the econ- omy of old cities through built heritage preservation and new cultural projects. Changing atti- tudes and approaches toward conserving and re-adapting architectural heritage, historic cities, and sacred places are proving to be good public policy and sound economics. Protecting built heritage for any historic city is a political as well as a historical and a cultural process. Decisions about what to remember and what to preserve require complex iterative processes involving many actors, including political leaders, and representatives of civil society, the public and private sectors, and funding institutions. The public policy challenges include adopting new laws to protect cultural property, nurturing the array of local cultural and artistic manifesta- tions, and regulating new development to mitigate its possible negative impacts. Public policies and regulations are also essential instruments to promote the formation of partnerships for the recon- struction, preservation, and management of historic cities, cultural landscapes, and sacred sites. Increasingly, culture and economics are interlinked. Cities and their cultures can take leading roles in economic transformation, mainly through the service sector. In many cities it is the fastest growing sector, steadily replacing industry and manufacturing. This trend is generating new employment opportunities, contributing to the increased production and consumption of cultural goods and services, and stimulating local art markets. Urbanization Urbanization is a historical trend. Historic records indicate that cities existed 8,000 years ago. Important urban centers flourished at the turn of the thirteenth century with the rise of the urban mercantile societies in Italy and in the other countries of Western Europe and Asia. The longest commercial route, the Silk Road, stretched halfway around the world, from Italy through Central Asia and Mongolia, to China and Japan. It left behind a precious strand of heritage cities, including Samarkand, Bukhara, and Kaifeng. During the Industrial Revolution in England and later, in the United States, cities experienced exponential population growth, enabling the concentration of great material wealth through economic growth cycles that led to new standards and forms of urban living. Mass media vision- ary Marshall McLuhan anticipated the nature of the contemporary cities in a globalized world: Cities were always a means of achieving some degree of simultaneity of association and awareness among men. What the family and the tribe had done in this respect for a few, the city did for many. Our technology now removes all city walls and pretexts. The oral and acoustic space of the tribal cultures had never met visual reconstruction of the past. All experience and all past lives were now. Preliterate man knew only simul- taneity. The walls between men, and between arts and sciences, were built on the writ- ten or visually arrested word. Historic Cities ond Socred Sites: Cultural Roots for Urbon Futures xv With the return to simultaneity we enter the tribal and acoustic world once more. Globally.7 The urban industrial centers built between the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were products of great technological innovations in transport, trade, and communications and a new social division of labor. The legacy of that era can still be experienced in the preserved districts of central cities, which feature period buildings, that is, markers of architectural styles, along with urban parks and cultural institutions. Developing country cities experienced a later but intense process of industrialization and urbanization. There, population growth rates have sur- passed the abilities of their societies to equip cities with adequate infrastructure and provide the population with basic social services. In the centrally located old neighborhoods of cities in many countries, irreplaceable baroque and neoclassical architecture coexists with later industrial struc- tures-warehouses, sheds, train stations, and terminals-juxtaposed with the skyscrapers and office buildings of the modern city. Urbanization has taken place on two opposite fronts: as formal and legal, and as informal and irregular, development.8 This manifestation of cultural, social, and economic disparity has pro- found implications for the form and function of contemporary cities. The duality can be clearly seen in large developing country metropolises with important historic centers, such as Rio de Janeiro, Sao Paulo, Cairo, Bangkok, Bombay, and Mexico City, and is, in fact, the defining feature of their built environments. Within the boundaries of these cities the modern city built by private developers and defined within the framework of detailed urban legislation co-exists with the three- or four-times larger urban fabric erected by the poor in the gray area between legal and illegal, formal and informal. The "precarious peripheries" of chaotic land use and dwelling pat- terns found in the sprawling settlements of the poor have led to the total disconnection of these poorly serviced areas from the city center, where jobs and cultural and economic opportunities are concentrated.9 Policies to protect environmental and cultural endowments in a rapidly urbanizing world are inad- equate. Population growth, the influx of rural migrants to cities, and an evolving economic base challenge the ability of cities to provide livelihoods. Deteriorating infrastructure, overburdened social services, rampant real estate speculation, and government incapacity put enormous pres- sure on city cores, which are often places of invaluable architectural and urban design heritage. The degradation of the urban environment limits the abilities of a growing, shifting population to establish communities with adequate and decent housing. Inner-city neighborhoods of large cen- ters worldwide are besieged, with the middle class and economic activities either fleeing the his- toric core or destroying its fabric by the demolition and reconstruction of older buildings." Preserving Urban Heritage In many cities the obsolescence of built heritage has led to the crumbling of urban infrastructure and public services. Both conditions contribute to the decline of inner-city property values. The loss of original communities and their replacement with newcomers transform the old neighbor- hoods and can bring a host of social problems arising from poverty. Typically, under these condi- tions the old city centers undergo significant functional changes as well. The business functions remain in the central districts surrounded by obsolete and decaying private and public property. xvi Introduction The challenge of rescuing at-risk heritage is the inevitability that development means change and that not all that is old must, or can, be preserved. Nevertheless, many parts of the old can be adaptively reused. A positive response to the challenges of historic cities and sacred places is feasible, even under seemingly intractable conditions. Such a response must protect the urban context and the sense of place, revitalize the economic base of the old neighborhoods, and meet the legitimate expec- tations of residents. A comprehensive action strategy is needed to keep historic centers alive and protect their valuable urban history, social fabric, and cultural patterns of building. It must also reinforce their links to the surrounding modern districts. The strategy must include a framework for concerted action that includes government agencies working with the private sector and an array of experts and conservation groups. Partnerships can be stimulated when there are in place a tax structure that creates incentives and legislation that reduces the risks of investments. This "enabling environment" encourages individuals or corporate investors to bid for the rights to own and maintain historic properties. However, more often than not, local administrations are inadequately staffed or not organized to process requests for the approval of conservation projects or to grant licenses. Exhaustive plan- ning reviews, cumbersome procedures, and rigid or unclear regulations have deterred new invest- ments in many cities, which often are desperately seeking to attract and secure new investments to bolster their stagnant economies. An investor un-friendly environment is often found in cities undergoing economic transition. On the other hand, in cities cited in this book, such as Ahmedabad, Bergen, Bilbao, Ouro Preto, Olinda, Recife, and Rio de Janeiro, bold strategies for sustainable urban development have been combined with streamlined administrative procedures and financing instruments to produce remarkable results. The strategic objective is predicated on mobilizing private resources for urban redevelopment with a strong emphasis on preservation of the built heritage. In addition, by recast- ing public investment programs to improve urban infrastructure and service delivery, many cities are able to leverage resources from individuals and corporations to restore and conserve historic dwellings, palaces, religious buildings, cultural centers, theaters, libraries, and public spaces. Financing Urban Heritage Preservation In response to practical issues the World Bank and the Inter-American Development Bank, among many other institutions, have adopted an operational approach to appraise the economic value of cultural heritage and have developed methods to estimate the benefits and costs of heritage projects. Without financing there can be no projects. The chapters on Brazil's Monumenta Program and the proposed project in Split, Croatia, provide insights on financial analysis and pro- posed instruments to determine the value of built heritage in specific projects. In both cases the complex project designs and interventions in historic cities aim to establish links whereby gen- eral revenue may be used and public and private funding blended. Cross-subsidies are almost invariably part of such arrangements. The chapters in Part VIII examine key institutional arrange- ments in project development, touching on ways in which successful collaboration and partner- ships are set up among the array of actors involved in financing built heritage. Historic Cities and Sacred Sites: Cultural Roots for Urban Futures xvii The Issues The 51 chapters of this volume are organized in 8 Parts on specific themes. Each Part is accom- panied by an Editors' Note-an executive summary highlighting the key points contained in each chapter. Part I seeks the philosophical and spiritual origins of historic cities and sacred sites. The aim is to establish a holistic understanding of the legacy of religious, symbolic, and cosmological refer- ences that have engendered historic cities and sacred places. Spiritual archetypes determined the structure of earthly holy cities such as Jerusalem, Mecca, Assisi and the Isle of Ise. The treatment of sacredness of place in the Eastern and Western spiritual traditions is compared. Seyyed Nasr offers a historic and philosophical perspective on the meaning of space in sacred places and his- toric cities. Stefano Bianca examines the future of sacred places in the contemporary world and makes the point that historic cities are an underestimated cultural asset. Bezalel Narkiss com- pares the architecture of synagogues, churches, and mosques to demonstrate their cross-cultur- al influences on one another over centuries. From a contemporary architectural perspective Norman Koonce reminds us that the stewardship of built heritage and its preservation are essen- tial intergenerational commitments to cultural continuity. Part II discusses the governance, planning, and management of cultural patrimony based on fresh policy and operational material from new empirical research and original conceptualizations. Case studies focus on cities in Brazil, the Middle East, the Netherlands, North Africa, North America, and Norway. Michael Sorkin raises the issue of authenticity in the contemporary archi- tecture of large metropolises, such as New York. Findings from places as diverse as Brazil, Jordan, Lebanon, the Netherlands, Norway, and Tunisia indicate that cultural policy instruments such as an earmarked line of financing as well as incentives are essential to elicit private sector partici- pation in cultural production and heritage preservation. Brazil's Minister of Culture Francisco Weffort quotes Robert Reich to say that in a globalized economy, "only labor is national." Weffort speaks of labor as including education and culture-to be understood not only as knowledge and erudition but also as the exercise of creativity-the source that transforms imagination into prac- tice. Therefore, from his point of view, to develop, Brazil should have a policy of investing in cul- ture and cultural industry. Part IlIl is devoted to one of the most important yet rarely discussed issues of built heritage at risk: the range of rescue strategies, which include reconstruction, transformation, and the adap- tation of historic structures to new uses. The first two chapters describe successful reconstruc- tion efforts in Assisi, Italy, and Lijiang, China, in the aftermath of intense seismic episodes. Other chapters cover the transformation, adaptive reuse, and rededication of historic buildings in Venice, Italy; Tampico and Tlacoltapan, Mexico; and Recife, Brazil. Part IV addresses the issue of urban and cultural heritage preservation during periods of economic transition. This theme is clearly connected to the issues presented in Parts I and 11: public policy, governance and cultural heritage preservation in a changing world. Both operational research and project experiences prove that citizen participation in decisionmaking and planning is the sine quo non for achieving optimal levels of continuity in heritage preservation management. Part V analyzes processes and instruments to appraise heritage investment projects, the role of incentives in the transfer of funds from central governments to local authorities, and strategies xviii Introduction to attract private businesses to revitalize the economies of historic cities. One such instrument is to establish a public-private corporation with the mandate to manage redevelopment and preser- vation of historic centers. Also covered is the program to revitalize "Main Street," the historic town centers in the United States abandoned for suburban sprawl and shopping malls. Ahmedabad, India, reversed economic decline by strengthening municipal management and gain- ing the confidence of investors, resulting in the issuing of municipal bonds, which led to the financing of urban and heritage preservation projects. The U. S. National Park Service Historic Landscape Initiative established new working principles and standards to protect the integrity and physical conditions of cultural landscapes. With the funding of private investors by the International Finance Corporation and other agencies, the Old Stone Town of Zanzibar was able to restore its neglected built heritage and turn the town into a tourist destination. Part VI covers the technical applications: surveying, valuing, and documenting heritage. These are the essential activities that pertain to both decisionmaking regarding preservation and manag- ing change in built heritage. Heritage designation is a dynamic process. Documentation and list- ing are instruments used to manage change to historic buildings. Landscapes can be viewed as manifestations of cultural belief systems. Documenting such systems is a complex undertaking that requires proper definition and procedures. A special section containing articles organized by the Center for Jewish Art depicts the ongoing research, survey program, and virtual reconstruc- tion using computer-aided design (CAD) of Jewish architectural heritage, which the Center has conducted in 37 countries. Also examined are the most pronounced types of synagogues and the symbolic and liturgical origins of the placement of their elements. Research on the sequence of design steps of two major monuments offers new insights into the generative and constitutive processes of architectural design in the early eighteenth century. Also documented are the shtetls in Poland, the urban fabric of melah in Morocco, the Jewish presence in the Cape Verde Islands, sacred spaces in conflict areas, fortress-synagogues, and the wooden sacred buildings in Eastern Europe. Part VIl is devoted to sacred places and cultural roots. Chapters on North American indigenous cultures and the traditional ritual of Kuarup among Brazilian indigenous people reflect a com- mon perspective: that nature and landscape are part of the cosmology and spiritual endowment of these peoples. In this conception the whole Earth is a sacred place. It contains powerful forces that need to be cared for to maintain a balance between the community and the nature. Other subjects are the religious and political centrality of the sacred site of Axum in Ethiopia, the eight centuries of close cultural interaction among Muslims, Jews, and Christians in medieval Spain (Convivencia); and the importance of non-built sacred places. UNESCO's Laurent Levi-Strauss concludes, "At a time when social diversity is everywhere leading to fragmentation, it is only...cultural memory that will maintain the indispensable bonds that enable a mosaic of peo- ple with different origins and different cultures, and of different generations, to live together." Part VIII collects a wealth of international experience from private nonprofit institutions, foun- dations, and regional development banks working with national and local governments and com- munities on heritage preservation projects. Lawrence Hannah describes a partnership to rebuild Mostar as part of post-conflict reconciliation in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Eduardo Rojas draws les- sons from private sector participation in recent revitalization efforts in select Latin American his- toric cities. Harold Williams stresses the need to incorporate a cultural dimension in sustainable Historic Cities and Sacred Sites: Cultural Roots for Urbon Futures xix development. Marilyn Perry examines the growing corporate commitment to cultural heritage preservation and conservation. Luis Monreal documents the remarkable growth of corporate con- tributions to culture in Spain. - Notes 1 E. Sekler, "Sacred Spaces and the Search for Authenticity in the Kathmandu Valley," this volume, 354. 2 K. Lynch, What Time Is This Place? (Cambridge, Ma.: MIT Press, 1972), 235. 3 Some chapters of this volume initially were presented in preliminary form at the Symposium on Preserving he Architecture of Historic Cities and Sacred Places, organized at the World Bank in May 1999. A draft symposium proceedings of the same name was prepared for Conference on Culture Counts: The Financing, Resources, and Economics of Culture in Sustainable Development, held in Florence in October of the same year. The present volume takes off from that point to present a much expanded, scholarly treatment of the multiple facets of current thinking and practice on the preserva- tion of historic cities and sacred places and the challenges of development. Additional experts have contributed new conceptual and operational material, and the text is vividly enhanced by nearly 300 images. 4 Cited in James D. Wolfensohn, Opening Keynote Address, J. D. Wolfensohn, L. Dini and others, eds., "Culture Counts: Financing, Resources, and the Economics of Culture in Sustainable Development. Proceedings of the Conference, Florence, Italy, October 4-7, 1999" (Government of Italy, World Bank, and UNESCO, Washington, D.C., 2000), 11. 5 World Commission on Culture and Development, Our Cultural Diversity (Paris: UNESCO, 1995) as cited in "Culture Counts." 6 D. Hayden, The Power of Place: Urban Landscapes as Public History (Cambridge, Ma.: The MIT Press, 1995). 7 M. McLuhan, "The Media Fit the Battle of Jericho," Explorations Six, July 1956. 8 This section draws on E. Shluger, "Culture and Development in Brazil-Promoting Public-Private Partnerships in Heritage Preservation," Policy research report prepared at the Latin American Public Scholars Program, Woodrow Wilson Center, Washington, D.C., 1999. 9 R. Rolnick, "Territorial Exclusion and Violence: The Case of Sao Paulo, Brazil," Working Paper Series (Urban Program, Woodrow Wilson Center, Washington, D.C., 1999). 10 This section draws on 1. Serageldin, "Very Special Places: The Architecture and Economics of Intervening in Historic Cities," Culture in Sustainable Development series (World Bank, Washington, D.C., 1999). ** . -- - -- --- - --- - -- -- - D- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-'C Dome of the Rock mosque, Jerusalem: interior. Part I Preserving Historic Cities and Sacred Sites: The Problematique Editors' Note The authors in Part I examine the complex origins and rich legacy of the reli- gious symbolisms attached to the structures of historic centers, houses of proyer and sacred sites. The first three chapters examine the design principles and make comparative analyses of the designs of early temples, synagogues, churches, and mosques. Seyyed Nasr examines early philosophies on the formation of cities, their physical forms, and their spiritual importance. According to certain major religious traditions, the city was likened to the body and modeled after it. As such the city was a confluence of the physical, the psychological, the emo- tive, the intellectual, and the spiritual. For example, Mecca is the supreme spiritual city of Islam in which the Ka'bah at the heart of the city corresponds to the human heart. Although much of the historic city of Mecca has been destroyed through successive urban renewal projects, the center survives, establishing a direct relationship to the spiritual heart, the heart of the city, the heart of the Islamic universe, and the human heart. In the West early Christian philosophers advanced the notion of the city as a reflection of a divine kingdom. Similar ideals were also found in Far Eastern traditions. In the first half of the eighteenth century Immanuel Swedenborg wrote about the archetypes of cities, which transcended their physical reali- ty. In the same way that a tree grows out of the "principles" (blueprint) 2 Editors' Note contained in a seed, Swedenborg saw the underlying principle of the city-its "seed"-as being in the world above. Many traditions believe that the sacred cities are a crystallization in space and time of a reality that belongs to the spiritual world. However, since the seventeenth century, in the West the dominant view has been that space is a purely quantitative reality. This view leaves little room for qualitative and symbolic space. Swedenborg argues, however, that a sacred historic event, an exceptional life with spiritual significance, or a mythic "event" can invest art, architecture, and places with those qualities. Great cities that remain spiritual centers, such as Jerusalem, Mecca, Assisi, or the Isle of Ise, are based on archetypal realities that determined their earthly urban reality, notwithstanding the onslaught of transformations, destruction, and time. Bezalel Narkiss clarifies the cross-cultural influences and interrelationships among the structures of the houses of worship of the three major monotheistic religions. He draws evidence from the comparative study of the first known synogogues, churches, and mosques. The structures built with windows placed above the columns, known during the Roman Empire as basilicas, are found not only in the fourth-centu- rychurch of San Giovanni and the Basilica of St Peterof333A. D., butalso in the sixth-centurysynagogue in Sardis. The Al-Aqsa Mosque built in Jerusalem between the eighth and tenth centuries has a basilical shape similar to the churches and synagogues of that time. These circulating influences continued as late as the twentieth century, when synagogues were built reflecting the large, theater-like churches of the time that incorporated fashionable Neo-Moorish, Neo-Gothic, or Neo-Romanesque styles. Although the interrelationships among synagogues, churches, and mosques throughout history are very complex, Narkiss clarifies some of the basic influences on the architectural design solutions. Reflecting on the function and the future of holyplaces in the contemporary world, Stefano Biancapoints out that traditional cultures understood how various layers of reality-material and spiritual and essen- tial-coincide. They mirrorone another through the chain of references and analogies implied in the rela- tionships between the macrocosm and microcosm. Implicit with accepting this integrated vision of real- ity means that sacred places cannot and should not be dissociated from their mundane environments. One of the basic concerns of traditional civilizations was to establish permanent connections between the visible and invisible, the quantifiable and the qualitative, the ephemeral and the timeless. The author argues that historic cities are an underestimated cultural asset In societies in which religious traditions are strong, historic cities can be seen as the surviving engines of cultural identity and creative diversity, which in recent years have begun to be integrated in the intemational development agenda. Reminding us that heritage preservation is an essential intergenerational commitment, Norman Koonce quotes Jonas Salk that it is incumbent on us "to strive to be good ancestors for future generations. " The last two chapters focus on varying ways that cultures transmit traditions and knowledge from one gen- eration to next to ensure that heritage is properly cared for by concerned communities and that cultur- al continuity is preserved despite the encroachments of modem development. The Grand Shrine of Ise is one of the foremost sacred places in Japan. lsao Tokoro describes the celebration of faith through the holistic process by which the shrine is renewed by rebuilding the structure and every object within it every 20 years. The shrine is constructed completely of wood, which necessitates this differ- ent kind of "preservation." The tradition of this periodic renewal, and the requisite skills, have been trans- mitted through generations for 1,300 years. There is much to be leamed from the Grand Shrine of Ise, as it possesses elements of both old and new, and transmits the wisdom of its legacy to each new generation. The Spirit of the Cities hen we speak about historic and sacred sites, it is of Seyyed Hossein Nasr utmost importance to understand why they are signif- ica nX. Xven if we are not philosophers or architects, SewedHosseinNosrisUniversity Professor W z \ h icant. Even If we are not pfisosophers or architects, ofsamic Studies at the George while walking through the narrow streets of Carcasone Woshington University Washington, D. C in France, Fez in Morocco, Isfahan in Persia, or Benares in India, we feel that we are in an ambience that touches us very deeply. It is another space, another place. But our present-day worldview pre- vents us from taking such an experience seriously. It is a worldview that reduces the human being to molecules banging against each other and the cosmos to dust that has evolved over billions of years into its pres- ent structures. It is a worldview, therefore, that makes the word "spirit" ultimately meaningless, simply a poetic metaphor with no correspon- dence to objective reality as far as the accepted, legitimized structure of knowledge in our world is concerned. Fortunately, the total domination of this stifling worldview is now coming more or less to an end. Many people speak earnestly of the Spirit, although still too few are aware that it corresponds to an objective reality. The rea- son historic cities are also sacred cities is that before modern times, it was taken for granted that all cities and all human life were touched by the Spirit. That is why there was no need for historic preservation before our time. That is why the very act of preservation is an anomaly that is made necessary to preserve something that in the past was always normal and part of human life. In the same way a thousand years ago we had no museums because there was no need for museums, because before mod- ern times human beings lived in the matrix of the sacred. If we take histo- ry back a few centuries, what is historic is also in a sense sacred. Assisi, where St. Francis lived and died, is 700 years old. It is a sacred city precisely because it was the locus of a religious culture that could give rise to a being such as St. Francis. The same is true of other historic sites if one goes deeply into their history. As for ourselves, we actually live in an exceptional period of human history, the only one we know that denies the reality of the spirit in its general cosmology. It therefore builds cities and buildings based on a view of the human being that is two dimensional and earth bound, a view characterized by the stifling reign of quantity over quality, of the profane over the sacred. 3 4 Seyyed Hossein Nosr City as Reflection of the Human Body In many traditional sources-Islam, Hinduism, the Chinese tradition and Christianity, and many other religions-the human body itself is often- times compared to a city or kingdom, with all its political and social functions. There is a famous book by lbn 'Arabi, the celebrated Andalusian mystic, whose very title, a)-Tadbirot al-ilahiyyah fi islah aI- mamlakat ol-insaniyyoh ("Divine Governance of the Human Kingdom"), indicates its content. The content concerns how to govern the city or kingdom of the human state whose various functions are compared to that of a polis, which is comparable to the body. The famous Rasa'il ("Treatises"), written a thousand years ago in the cities of Basra and Baghdad by "The Brethren of Purity," contains a whole section on how the body is like a city. The body as envisaged in such sources is not the same body whose anato- my is studied in modern medical schools. It is the body as understood tra- ditionally, which means the locus of the confluence of the physical, the psychological, the emotive, the intellectual, and the spiritual, which is not to be confused in any way with the psychological. The city was not only compared to the body and the body to the city, but the city was the body expanded macrocosmically, providing the loci for all these elements. The heart corresponded to the center, and the various parts of the body cor- responded to various functions in the city, as we shall see in a moment. It is amazing how universal this concept is. One can think immediately of the examples of sacred cities of Islam, especially the City of Mecca, the supreme spiritual center of Islam. According to numerous treatises written on the subject, the Ka'boh at the very heart of the city corre- sponds to the human heart. Much of the beautiful City of Mecca has now been destroyed through modern urban design. Nevertheless, the center survives, which demonstrates the direct relationship between the inner heart, the heart of the city, the heart of the universe, or at least the Islamic universe, and the human heart. There is the example of the Ming Tang in classical China, in which a three-dimensional magic square dominated the numerical symbolism of the 12 chambers of the Ming Tang, which always added vertically to the number 11. This number symbolized the wedding between Heaven and Earth. It was here that the emperor resided, he being the bridge between Heaven and Earth and representing precisely the function of man in his universal aspect. The space of the cathedral symbolizes the form of the Body of Christ, as represented by the cross. It was in consideration of this space that the old European cities, which retain their beauty for people today, were planned always having a cathedral in the middle. The Spirit of the Cities 5 To come back to the question of the body and the city, all of our limbs are organically tied to the function of the heart. We are an overly cere- bral civilization and always identify thinking with the head. We must recall that there is also "heart knowledge." The heart as the seat of the intellect and organ of intuitive knowing is mentioned in the Bible, the Upanishads, Chinese classical texts, the Quran, and so many other sacred writings of the world. The heart is the seat of intelligence, not the dis- cursive and divisive intelligence that is associated with the brain and the mind, but unitive, integrated intelligence that knows by immediacy and in a synthetic manner. This heart-center is, therefore, at once the center of life and the center of intelligence that emanates from the center to all the parts of the body. In the traditional and sacred city the heart always corresponds to the place of worship. It is from that center that all of the other parts of the city grow and to which they are organically related. What are the powers and functions that we have within ourselves? We possess an intellective and religious power and function. We have an active aspect associated with our will. We make and produce things, and we live a life that must be lived according to certain laws. All of these powers and functions of the human being associated with parts of the body and the mind are reflected in the traditional city. It always had spaces and sites for the following functions: 1. The intellective and religious function. Why do I put these together? Because through most of human history, among those very people who created the cities that we call historic cities, the religious and intellectual functions were united-whether in the Egyptian and Babylonian priesthood, the Brahmins, the Mandarin class, the Islamic 'ulama, or the medieval Christian priesthood. In traditional societies the functions of the theologian, priest, and scientist were united in a single organ that was conceived as the heart of society, while from another point of view it corresponds to the head, as one can see mentioned in certain classic Hindu texts. 2. The active element. It includes on the one hand the political and mil- itary functions of the city, and on the other the mercantile functions. 3. The production element. It includes farming and arts and crafts. All of these are functions for which the living city had to provide archi- tectural space as organically unified as are the heart, the head, the arms, and the feet of the human body. Furthermore, in the traditional ambience these spaces were always related to the heart-center, as are parts of the human body to the human heart. 6 Seyyed Hossein Nosr Wonderful examples of this principle exist in the classical cities of the world. Since I know a little bit more about the Islamic world than other places, my examples come from that world. In what remains of the tradi- tional cities of the Islamic world, such as Fez or Isfahan, one always sees this organic interrelationship between the mosque or religious center and the various spaces associated with functions that are always related to the center. In this pattern there is an unbelievable unity that comes from the integration of the various functions of the city with the heart-center. Without the heart-center, which is always related to the Sacred, as in the case of the microcosm, in which the heart of human beings is the seat of Divine Presence, there can be no veritably human city. We have forgotten the heart-center of ourselves as well as of the world around us. This is the rea- son that we feel in such inhuman ambiences in modern cities that we build based on planning that does not have a heart. This is why the historic cities always give us a sense of intimacy, of belonging, of being at the center. In these sacred and historic cities there is always a center, which reflects our own center. This point is what really distinguishes the traditional city from much that has been built in the last two or three centuries, especially the last century. The distinction is between the possession of a center or lack thereof. We have lost our own center, so we build cities without centers. City as Archetypal Reality Another important philosophical point has been discussed in many dif- ferent traditions, yet appears strange to us because it lies outside of our worldview and does not make any sense within the paradigm that dom- inates our minds. It is that traditional cities have a kind of archetypal reality. They are not just physical conglomerates that were built as an ensemble. They reflect a reality from the spiritual world in the same way that, according to all traditions, what is below is a reflection of what is above. In the Western tradition, this concept is identified with Plato and the Platonic ideas and is well known in the West, even if not accepted in the prevailing Western Weltanschauung. There are other examples of this concept such as menok and getik in the Zoroastrian religion, and noma and rupa in Hinduism. The city itself was conceived to be a kind of reflection on Earth of a celestial, archetypal reality. Many architects have expressed that idea for individual buildings. They have asserted that they have had a direct inspiration and vision of the whole edifice before its design and construction, in a sense like a poet who suddenly writes down a poem after having received it in its entire- ty through inspiration. Such architects have created buildings on the basis of an archetypal reality that has "descended" on them. But this idea is also true of sacred cities as a whole. There is a whole liter- ature, for example, in the Islamic world about the mythical cities of The Spirit of the Cities 7 Jabulqa and Jabulsa, cities belonging in a sense to the subtle world, which in traditional cosmology precedes the physical world in which we live. One is the city through which we enter into this world situated in the seven climes, and the other is a city through which we go out from this world to that higher abode that Islam's visionary geography calls the eighth clime. In the West the Swedish visionary, Immanuel Swedenborg, wrote exten- sively of his vision of the archetypes of cities and not just their physical reality. In the same way that a tree grows out of the principles that are contained in its seed, such visionaries saw the principle of the city as the embodiment of its "seed" in the world above. The seed of a pear tree will never grow into an apple tree; it always gives pears. The whole pattern of the growth of the parts of each tree-the leaves, the colors, the form of the branches-is contained in the original principle, with modifications due to the external ambience. The same reality holds true for traditional architecture and urban design. Many traditional sources believe that sacred cities are in a sense like the crystallization in the world of space and time of a reality that belongs to the world of the spirit. They believe that these cities develop according to principles and laws contained in the "idea" of the city in question in the archetypal world, much like the growth of the plant from its seed. This idea is closely related to that idea of a holy place, of a sacred site, and what we could call sacred geography. Thanks to Descartes, we today have quantified dimensionality. Space for us is a purely quantitative real- ity. Some people are trying to change that view now, but for the last 400 years, that has been the dominant point of view in the West. This quan- tified view of space leaves no room for qualitative and symbolic space. In contrast we know that all sacred art, all sacred architecture, and all holy places are created precisely on the acceptance that a reality, a sacred historical event, an exceptional life with spiritual significance, or a mythic "event" has qualified a particular place or space. For those liv- ing in the religious reality of that world, that space is not the same as just another space. Assisi is not like the rest of Tuscany. Mecca is not just another city in Arabia like Taif. The idea of qualitative space, of sacred geography, of certain sites that attract the sacred, are universal among traditional people. China has developed the extensive science of as feng shui concerning this qualita- tive and sacred geography. Other civilizations have not elaborated it so systematically but have nevertheless spoken about it in different ways. Some historians have written that as soon as Christianity and Islam appeared, they simply took over the cemeteries of religions that existed before and converted them to Christian and Muslim cemeteries because this was the easiest thing to do. Or it is said that Christians and Muslims Seyyed Hossein Nosr simply took over the various temples of the Greeks or the Zoroastrians and built churches or mosques in their place. There was no shortage of space at that time, as in today's modern cities. Why is it then that so many Byzantine churches are built on top of Greek temples? Why is it that the most extensive and beautiful mosque in Persia, in my view, the Jamiy' Mosque of Isfahan, began to be built at the site of an old Zoroastrian fire temple and only later expanded in the area next to it? In India this occurred over and over again. In Europe one can see many Bogomil funerary sites in Yugoslavia. When those poor Muslims of the Balkans who are being massacred every other day became Muslims, they built their cemeteries there. All of these examples point to the idea that there are certain sacred sites and places on earth. The fact that many have lost the sense of the sacred does not change the character of that reality. Even those of us who have lost the sense of the sacred, however, feel something of the presence of the sacred when we go to those places. That is why they are so precious and that is why pre- serving them is so important. A center becomes sacred for many different reasons. One is sacred geogra- phy, the nature of the topography, the subtle forces involved, and all that goes with those types of traditional sciences, especially sacred geometry. Another has to do with certain events, either mythical or historical, but per- taining to sacred history. Babylon, Athens, Rome all had mythical or reli- gious beginnings. The same is true for Benares; Madura, the birthplace of Krishna; Kyoto; the Isle of Ise in Japan; many places in China; many sites in the New World-the Hopi reservation. In the reservation in which the Navajos settled after being nomadic people, their pattern of settlement began with a vision that identified the sacred centers. These then deter- mined where the settlements in New Mexico and Arizona were located. Examples of these principles are legion. I will just draw one example, which also touches us very deeply politically and historically today. That is the City of Mecca, the center of the Islamic world. It is called in Arabic Umm al-qura, that is, "Mother of all cities." Of course, in days of old, for each civilization its world was the world, because it was a sacred world. Today the sacred quality is lost, but, strangely enough, the idea in its sec- ularized form has manifested itself in another way. Eurocentrism also sees its view of the world as the only worldview. In the old days people were at least more honest about it. Therefore, Umm ol-qura does not mean "Mother of all cities" on earth, but "Mother of all cities" in the Islamic world, that is, the source or principle of all legitimate cities. There are many mystical treatises in Islamic languages about the interrelationships among various cities, such as Mashhad in my own home country of Iran, in the province of Khorasan, and their inward relation to Mecca. The Spirit of the Cities 9 Figure 1.Among the great contributions 7_tha am has made to architecture is the ase of two- and three-dimensional geome- try, Geometric forms not only organize 4 s~~~~~~~pace but are used at all scales of the building. The three-dimensional muqarn Os, or "talactie form," is unique to Islam. Usually used as a transitional element Z between two surfaces, for example, at a corner,i dematerializes space. Calligraphy, part of the tradition in which the word of God isexpressed in written form, is anoth- er sgnificant contribution. Such texts on T~~~ 14 ~~~~buildings are called epigraphy and are a E _ L INvery important sign of Islam. According to Islamic eschatological sources, when the Mahdi comes at the end of the world, he will put his back to the wall of the Kabah, call out to those destined to aid him, and those in Khorasan and elsewhere destined for the call will hear his appeal. This, many will claim, is merely folklore. But it is not important how modern people judge such assertions. The important thing is the significance of this way of looking at things for the understanding of the creation of sacred space and sacred cities (figure 1). Another interesting case is one in which the archetypal city of three dif- ferent religions meets in one, single reality on earth, Jerusalem. This is the reason that the problem of Jerusalem is so intractable politically. It is not simply one city among others. For 2,000 years the Jews said "Next year in Jerusalem," and finally, after 2,000 years, they have come back to that holy city. The Muslims have been there for 1,400 years, and nothing in the world is going to change the sacred character and significance of Jerusalem for them. The Christians have been there for 2,000 years. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and all the events of the end of the life of Christ, are related to the city. Therefore, in a sense, the city is a meeting of archetypal realities that determined its earthly urban reality, some of which has been destroyed 70 Seyyed Hossein Nosr by the creation of profane architecture in recent years. However, no mat- ter how much Jerusalem has been vilified by high-rises at the very place where Christ is supposed to descend at the end of the world, it does not change the ultimate nature of the sacred city. It will retain its sacred character as long as those religions that hold this city as sacred remain alive and their sacred sites remain protected in that holy ambience. I want to mention one more important point. I have mentioned that the traditional city, the historic city, is always built on the basis of the pri- macy of the spirit, beginning from the heart and expanding outward-not first building a business district and then making a church in the suburbs for people to go to on Sundays. It is always growing from the inward to the outward, like us, like the fetus in the womb of the mother. In addi- tion the city is the place from which come the great moral calamities of human history. Basing himself on a verse of the Koran that asserts that there is no city that will not suffer punishment from God before the end of the world, the great Tunisian philosopher of history, Ibn Khaldoun, alludes to the significance that cities have not only as centers of knowl- edge, art, and luxury, but also of decadence, disruption, and corruption. Of course, at this stage of history we are now witness to the reenactment of the famous myth of Cain and Abel-that is, it is the cities that are destroying the nomadic people and the world of nature, which the nomads always guarded and protected. We have either killed off the nomads, the other half of humanity, or settled them forcing them to become sedentary. We have forced them into settlements or obliterated them physically. And now the cities grow like a cancer, precisely because we have decided to forget our brother, who is also our other half. But ultimately, as long as we live as human beings on earth, the truth is always present. Sacred cultures will not disappear completely. At this moment we are destroying both our historical heritage and our natural heritage with a rapidity never seen in human history. Not even Genghis Khan could do things like what we are doing through "development." At this time I believe there is nothing more important than to realize that what remains of our historic cities, of our sacred sites and sacred places, is significant not only for national identity or archaeological records but also for our own identity as human beings. It is through these sites that we remember who we really are, where we come from, and where we shall go at the end of our earthly journey. Thus, the significance of such cities and sites is far greater than any immediate economic, political, or even cultur- al factors that we might consider. Such places are necessary for our spiri- tual health. They are necessary for our continuation as human beings. The preservation of our sacred sites and historic cities is not only an investment in culture. It is also an investment in the continuity of our existence here on earth and in the meaning of our lives as human beings. U Synagogue-Church- Mosque: A Comparison of Typologies here is a relationship of dependence among the structures of Bezalel Narkiss the houses of worship of the three monotheistic religions. These relationships hae been distinguihable since the arly centuries ze/ael Norkiss, recipsient of the 1999 Israel relationships have been distinguishable since th eary cenuries nPrizeandfounder of the Jerusalem Index of of our era, when the first known synagogues and churches were Jewish Art,s Nicolas Landau Professor Emeritus of Art History at Hebrew T established. One of the earliest types of synagogues is repre- UniversityofJerusolem. sented by the first-century Gamla Synagogue in the Golan (figure 1). The single hall is divided by rows of columns surrounding the inner walls of the edifice. It contrasts with the Greco-Roman Temple of the Roman Empire, in which the row of columns surrounded the outer walls of the building. On a panel painted on the western wall of the Dura Europos Synagogue of 244 A. D., the high priest a Aaron is standing near the tent of meeting in the desert, depicted as a Roman temple (figure 2). This strange rendering is related to the common pictori- al language of the late Roman Empire, which repre- sented any sanctuary in the shape of a Greco- Figure 1. Gamia Synagogue, first century reconstruction of ground plan. Roman temple. Dura Europos Synagogue itself is a small, wide hall with no row of columns inside or outside. Its west- ern wall with a central Torah niche faces Jerusalem in accordance with the practice of the Prophet Daniel, who faced Jerusalem while praying.' The niche holding the Torah and its direction are this synagogue's most important elements. The entrance of the fourth-century Synagogue of . - Capernaum, typically elongated with an interior rows of columns, faces Jerusalem, and the synagogue has no Figure 2. Dura Europos Synagogue, Dura Europos, 244 A. D.: west wall Torah niche (figure 3) similar to that of Gamla. The panel with Aaron the high priest in front of the Tent of Meeting in the location of the Torah in this type of synagogue is not 11 12 Bezolel Narkiss known and creates a problem for historians. It may have been placed in a movable ark. In the Roman Empire the shape of such a building 07 01 0 t 1 rl rY I "7 t with rows of columns within the walls is known as X * t X # a basilica, such as the one that existed in Pompeii * *Y \ j 4 | before the destruction of the city in 78 A. D. (figure * o # 1 4). The most important element in a basilica is the upper windows above the columns that bring light to the main hall. The Jews probably chose the basil- ica as a model to build their sanctuary because the former was a civic building and had no connection to a religious edifice. Li The synagogue in Sardis, on the western shores of Turkey, was constructed in an existing first-century basilica of a gymnasium, which had been relocated Figure 3. Capernaum Synagogue, fifth century: ground plan. from the city. Originally, it may have had a movable Torah Ark. However, in the sixth century, the Jewish community fitted two ediculi for the Torah scrolls in the southwestern entrance of the hall, opposite the wide apse. It was during this period that the * l l t location of the Torah Ark was fixed on the wall fac- - ~ -r - ing Jerusalem. - .-- _- The smaller basilical first-century Synagogue of Ostia, the Port of Rome, was built specifically as a .C. A _0 SO _ -, M synagogue, with the entrance facing Jerusalem. Figure 4. Pompeii Basilica, before 78 A. D.: ground plan. However, in the sixth century, an edicula as a Torah Ark was added to the right of the exit. The Beit Alpha Synagogue in the Lower Galilee was constructed in the sixth century with an apse that incorporated the Torah facing Jerusalem to the south (figure 5). This new feature may have been influ- _K::::: IT -- enced by the construction of Christian churches in I . - -t the fourth century. . * * * One of the earliest fourth-century churches was San Giovanni in Laterano, built as a double-column L ___ basilica in 324 by Pope Sylvester. It was constructed with an apse facing the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem Figure 5. Be t Alpha Synagogue, sixth century: reconstructed ground plar. and fitted with an edicula in its center (figure 6). Other fourth-century churches in Rome, such as the Basilica of Saint Peter of 333, are constructed in similar shapes, which continued throughout the Middle Ages. The mid-sixth-century basilical Church Synagoque-Church-Mosque: A Comporison of Typologies 13 of Saint Catherine in Sinai (548-565) is constructed similarly, with the apse facing north toward Jerusalem. T T T T For the builders of the early mosques it must have * been an easy way to construct the main hall, as in the Great Mosque of Damascus of E 709-715. Instead of the deep apse, a small apsidal mihrab was an indication of the direction of prayer. : Facing south toward Mecca, the basilical structure n . . with rows of columns was constructed as a wide * hall to accommodate more participants' facing Mecca. However, the interior toward the central L i _ entrance, Bab El-Barid, is not different from any church or synagogue entrance at the time. The Figure 6. San Giovannl in Laterano Church, Rome, 312-24 A. D. facade is, of course, wider than any church or synagogue. r - The rapid spread of Islam during the seventh and eighth centuries disseminated the structure of the _ mosque throughout the Islamic Empires. The Mosque in Cordoba, started by Abdul-Rahman the First in 784, remained one of the most sumptuous buildings for two centuries. The double-arched IL _ R columns are part of the earliest stage of the mosque (figure 7). However, the basic wide con- ___ struction, with a pronounced mihrob in the south- a W i " east toward Mecca, is visible even from the rooftops. The earlier Al-Aqsa Mosque, which was started in 705, exposes a similar structure, although broad- A ened in 1035 (figure 8). The basilical shape seen from the main entrance is not different from any sumptuous church or synagogue (figure 9). The place of Al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem was determined by the night flight of Mohammed on his Burraq (winged steed), but the ear- lier Dome of the Rock is placed in a more prominent _ - situation on the mount. Built by Abdul-Malik from Figure 7. Great Mosque, Cordoba, double-arched sea of columns, 784-86. 688 to 692, the Al-Haram-ash-Sharif was meant to divert the Muslim believers from Mecca to Jerusalem (figure 10). As a round building the Dome of the Rock was not meant to be a mosque, but a memorial struc- ture commemorating the sacrifice of Ishmael on the Temple Mount. Similarly, the neighboring Christian g W -g-DU=Z-|- oU - Rlw~~~- C t~~- I II,I! ...........~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.t ff ~ ~ . C ~ . ! ~ I -a t C - (C 'I'- *(s,' C E~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Synogygbe-Chfireh-Mosque:A Comparison cf fypologies 75 Figure 14. Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, 537: exterior. structure, the Holy Sepulchre, commemorates the burial of Christ. Indeed, the Dome of the Rock has the same measurements as those of the round memoria over the empty tomb constructed by the architect Zenobius in 326- 334 for Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great (figure 11). The Constantinian round memorial structures of the Ascension of Christ have the same proportions. The round memoria over tombs was common in Rome since the days of the Republic, like that of Cecilia Metella, the wife of Sula. It continued in similar structures, with the Tomb of Augustus and that of Hadrian, the Castel-Sant-Angelo. The most prominent Christian memoriG in Rome is the Mausoleum of Santa Constanza, the sister of Constantine, built and decorated between 337 and 354. Like the Holy Sepulchre and the later Dome of the Rock, the round Santa Constanza was built as a basilical type with windows above the columns, giving light into the Main Hall (figure 12). These could have been the origins of the more sumptuous, round, centralized churches. Justinian the First, who built the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople in 537, claimed that he outdid Solomon in constructing a sanctuary. He proba- bly did much more regarding the shape, spaciousness, lavishness, and daring (figure 13). The main achievement was the enormous dome rest- ing on four pillars. This, and maybe other domes, inspired a Christian Syriac poet to compare the church dome to that of the Dome of Heaven, carrying the Almighty and its host of angels, related to a hierarchy of the Church on Earth. There is no doubt that the magnificence of the Church of Hagia Sophia influenced the centralized structure of many edifices in the East as well as in the West (figure 14). Interestingly, after the Turkish conquest of Constantinople and the use of Hagia Sophia as a mosque, this structure 16 Bezalel Narkiss >> *; .;1 . .... ': was used as a model for other mosques. The .-- .--Selimiye Mosque of Edirne was built by the famous architect Sinan for the Sultan Selim in 1569-75 on the model of Hagia Sophia (figure 15). However, the interior of the Edirne Mosque is somewhat lighter than that of the Hagia Sophia and exposes the minbar, the mihrab, and the dikka (figure 16). The seventeenth-century Blue Mosque in Istanbul is similar to those from the outside, but has a blue- r , X ! X tile luminosity inside. The influences of what was considered the fashion- able Moorish style in architecture of the nine- *lt i 4il li} teenth-century modern synagogues are noticeable all over Europe, as in the Hungarian Synagogue of Szeged. Its dome is no less impressive than the monumental Torah Ark. ' In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries - under the influence of large, theater-like modern Figure 15. Selimiye Mosque, Edirne, 1569-75: exterior, churches, synagogues were built after the same manner and shape. This form changed the idea of a two-pole structure of the traditional ancient and _JW k.wx medieval synagogues into a single center, toward Jerusalem, by combining the Torah Ark and the bimah in one place. During the same period the -~ X Neo-Gothic, Neo-Romanesque, or Neo-Moorish styles were common to the new sumptuous churches and synagogues. Even the more contem- _ i t $4 * g W {; porary structures that started to develop between the two World Wars did not change the concept of the theater-like interior of churches, mosques, and W_ ^ ' r3S jsynagogues. Il' _ i . -The interrelationships among synagogues, churches, and mosques throughout their histories are much more complex than these brief comparisons, but I r -:' 2 11 :] hope to have clarified some of the basic influences and origins of new creations within the basilical and 4 i . _1 4 4 centralized structures. U Figure 16. Selimiye Mosque, Edirne, 1569-75: interior with mihrab, min- bor, and dikka. Synagogue-Church-Mosque: A Comparison of Typologies 17 Glossary Apse Semi-circular or polygonal recess, arched or dome-roofed, especially in churches, and later in synagogues Bimah Literally, "platform." In the Ashkenazi synagogue a raised plat- form on which a desk is placed. The Torah scrolls are placed on the desk while they are being read. Dikko In a mosque a raised platform supported on columns on which prominent Muslims are seated while studying or praying. Mihrob In a mosque an arch-shaped niche indicating the direction to Mecca. Minbar In a mosque a high pulpit for the imam, accessed by a single flight of steep stairs. Torah Literally, "Pentateuch," the five books of Moses in the Bible. For the synagogue the Torah is written by hand on a continuous parchment scroll, wrapped around staves, and placed in the Torah Ark, or chest. Each week a different portion of the Torah is read. Note 1 For specialized terms see Glossary at the end this chapter. Resources for Sustaining Cultural Identity Stefano Bianca t is indeed an auspicious opportunity to link the debate on urban conservation with considerations on the function and the future of ClCs suopc. Progorunm of trheAgon'0^, o holy places in our contemporary world. Discussing the role of the TmstForCui ,,rem Geneva ana practc;ng sacred today does not seem the most obvious thing to do. It may w7r:~itecf, wbo dts gner, otf out hoe Ieven cause embarrassment, because in a modern context the sacred is often felt to be either unreachably high, above "normal" life, or totally detached from it. To address the topic properly therefore will require readiness to reconsider (and even to question) the assumptions of our conventional modern perspective by looking from a different point of view at the issues. This will not only apply to the topic of sacred sites and historic cities, but also to the corollary theme of the genesis of cul- tural identities, as raised at the end of this essay. Traditional cultures knew that the various layers of reality, from the material to the spiritual plane, coincide. Thus they can mirror one anoth- er through the chain of references and analogies implied in the relation- ships between macrocosm and microcosm. Accepting this integrated vision implicitly means that sacred sites cannot and should not be disso- ciated from their more mundane environments. They are in fact the places in which the world manifests itself in its most real and most con- centrated form. Other, perhaps more tangible, expressions are secondary reflections and outgrowths of the inner sap of the tree of life, so to speak. Establishing permanent connections between the visible and the invisible, the quantifiable and the qualitative, the ephemeral and the timeless, was one of the basic concerns of traditional civilizations. Thinking through the holistic traditional perspective can be an eye- opener for anyone interested in the more essential aspects of culture. Doing so will reveal that the prevailing modern notion of the sacred as being separate from the "real" world is a mental distortion. It is based on a deliberate reduction and fragmentation of reality to accommodate more simplistic quantitative and mechanistic manners of perception. This 18 Resources fcr Sustaining Cultural !rlentity 19 approach is in clear contradiction to the spirit in which most sacred places were established and experienced in the past. Introducing and cementing an artificial dichotomy among different layers of reality not only risks marginalizing sites. It also means reducing their significance to highly abstract, if not sterile, connotations, depriving the sacred of its potential as a creative impulse in the construction of a truly human and lively environment. Reconsidering our perception of sacred sites may also enable us to throw new light on historic cities, which tend to be underestimated cultural assets. In societies in which traditions are still alive, historic cities can be seen as the surviving engines of cultural identity. They are not defunct relicts of the past overcome by a present that will in turn be superseded by the future. They convey the inner dimension, the soul, of an unfolding human development process. This process is based on the crystallization of the acts and beliefs of human beings in time and space, resulting from the investment of creative imagination, social interaction, and respons- es to environmental conditions. Once we admit the idea of a continuous presence of creative forces, the past remains alive while the seeds of the future germinate. On the con- trary curtailing the sense of an overarching presence means opening an artificial gap in cultural continuity. The resulting chasm between past and future not only empties the present of much of its substance and significance but also affects the qualities of the past and the future. History then runs the risk of being mummified and relegated to the department of the sciences, while coherent and creative innovation is in danger of being aborted or replaced by the stillborn phantoms of a uni- lateral "progress." In either case the sense of a living cultural identity is at stake. It can flourish only through a sustained identification of people :=1 with a continuous and interactive process of creation, as reflected in a meaningful built environment (figure 1). In most of the Western World such identification processes have been dis- rupted by the "Modern Movement," which deliberately, and for good rea- sons, refused the depleted architectural symbols of the nineteenth century. Nevertheless, in doing so, that movement also rejected the need for spiritu- al and emotional content as implicit or explicit motives of architectural expression. This rejection meant that the common cultural ground that existed between earlier periods gave way to a serious divide that has never been overcome. Thus, the natural fluidity between past and the future was blocked, stifling the creative communication between human beings and their cultural matrix and fragmenting their vision of the world. This in turn X allowed rigid and fatal dichotomies to emerge, with which we struggle today: Figure 1. Interior of Old Dispensary, first "Modern" versus 'Traditional," "Rational" versus "Emotional," "Cultural" versus building restored by the Aga Khan Trust for Culture in the Old Stone Town Project "Technical," to name a few. in Zanzibar. 20 Stefano Bianco | 'S : ~~~~~~~~~~-- - ' NL, % i_ . j / !~~~~~~~~~~~i ' s t_ _ z 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~- opwl -4 Figure 2. The balcony overlooking the interior courtyard of the Figure 3. The oalcony overlooking tee interior courtyard of the Old Dispensary before restorationi. Ole Dispensary after restoration. Historic cities offer, at least potentially, the opportunity to overcome the effects, if not the causes, of that relatively recent mental and physical dis- integration. This holds true especially for societies less affected by the mod- ern industrial civilization and closer to the roots of their social and spiritu- al resources. There, beyond constituting mere cultural memories, historic cities should be able to act as productive nurseries of cultural continuity (figures 2, 3). Clearly, this can not be achieved by reproducing frozen archi- tectural forms. It must be souqht by sustaining and encouraging the inter- nal patterns of life that have generated the existing built environment and that may be capable of internal renewal under changed external conditions. By investigating the growth patterns of historic cities, we find that the for- mation of cultural identity can work in two ways, because cultural identi- ty may be understood as both the origin and the result of the identifica- tion of human beings with their physical shelter. WVe will also see that the genesis of cultural identities is no gratuitous process. It depends on human beings' existential experience of human values and on their possibility of practicing a dialogue with an all-encompassing reality. In the course of this dialogue individuals discover and develop their own deeper beings. While this dialogue eventually may refer to shared universal values, it is equally concerned with producing tangible embodiments in term-s of Resources forSustaining Cultural Idenhty 2 meaningful forms, shapes, and places. By necessity, the results of this crystallization will be differentiated according to the "medium" and the circumstances imposed on respective human expressions. These variables engender parallel but different cultural identities, typical for specific soci- eties, communities, and individuals. Deep-rooted cultural identities and creative diversity do not contradict but, in fact, condition each other. Patterns of cultural identity take time to develop. They are woven through numerous cycles of interplay between deep and largely spontaneous human impulses; and "productive" resistances set up by a given environment, a given social order, and a given set of shared ethical codes. It is this creative interaction that, through experience, integrates the human mind and roots it in meaningful cultural patterns. This interaction turns information into knowledge and eventually produces shared emotions, shared values, and shared physical expressions. To survive, therefore, cultural identities depend on continuity and tradition, while they also have the faculty of adapting, evolving, and innovating-so long as they remain connected to their sources and are supported by collective endeavor. Over the past decade cultural identity and creative diversity have become recognized issues in the international development agenda-a positive fact in itself. Yet the implementation of such qualitative concepts has to be pursued at levels, in domains, and under conditions that elude theoretic constructs and the prevailing means of information and communication. Relying on the easy shortcuts of "virtual" experiences offered by modern technology would mean depleting or flattening existing cultural differen- tials and settling for abstract identities, which are no longer underpinned by lived and practiced values and sustained collective experiences. Nurturing cultural identities, I would submit, can succeed only through re-anchoring the lives of individuals and communities in the deeper lay- ers of a primordial reality. This reality is all-encompassing in that it links past, present, and future. It is also limited in that it can be grasped and materialized only through individual realizations at "grassroots" levels in a given time and place. The fact that spiritual values are essentially beyondforms, yet have to be experienced through specific forms, is a condition of human existence. Without the interplay between a transcendent vision and a tangible human embodiment, "culture" will remain either meaningless or unpro- ductive, and so will the creation of the built environment. U The Grand Shrine of Ise: Preservation by Removal and Renewal Isao Tokoro he Grand Shrine of Ise may be called the foremost sacred place * of Japan. Its history goes back more than 1,000 years. The e sooTokoro.isoorotessor 5 shrine buildings are built completely of wood, so compared to j nthe )st5titt for Jiponete Cultre _ KtKyo toSo.ngyo University, choirrof the sturdy stone architecture, its preservation has been more diffi- ContpC'otior, Commiottee oCthe Geiro-Ko, eapesteH iTml ul 2eod Iaf Mteotuaygroupor, Missing Ancient cult. Another rare example is the Horyuji Temple in Nara, built Nat,onoal ocurment5, noarnremborof tre in 607 A. D. However, in spite of this handicap, the architecture and reli- Srclet of t`bstorio J,ris oer the Logo! istoryAssociation. gious ceremonies of antiquity at Ise have been transmitted almost unchanged to the present day. How was this possible? The major reason is the institution of a system called the Shikinen senga (the removal of the Shrine every 20 years), in which the architecture is freshly reconstructed, and the religious treas- ures are reproduced exactly like the originals. Thus the Shrine is totally renewed every 20 years. This system was instituted around the end of the seventh century and has been observed faithfully for the past 1,300 years. Recently, in 1993, the sixty-first regular removal and renewal of the Grand Shrine of Ise was held on a magnificent scale. In this sense the Grand Shrine of Ise is not an archeological site excavated more than 1,000 years ago. Rather, it is a new, invigorated sacred sanctuary. It is permeated with the force of everlasting youth (Tokowoka) of human life, as it forms a symbiotic relationship with nature. Granary-style Shrine Preserved Since the Yayoi Period The image evoked by the name "Grand Shrine of Ise" is perhaps the unique buildings. Divine Brightness Style (Shinmeizukuri) is the basic architectur- al style of Shinto shrines, seen everywhere in Japan. These are designated as Divine Brightness (Shinmei) shrines, and consist of a central post (Hottate bashira), raised floor (Taka-yuka), openings at the longitudinal Figure 1. Making fire. Land and sea prod- ends (Hirairi), triangular-shaped roof with protruded rafters (Kirizuma), ucts offered to gods are cooked by sacred fire, made by a lighter of anclect design. and thatched roof (Kayabuki). The supreme model of this Divine Brightness 22 The Grand Snrine of Ise: Preservation by Removal and Renewal 23 Style (Shinmei zukuri) is the main shrine building of the Grand Shrine of Ise. The main shrine building, therefore, is pointedly called the "Singular i Divine Brightness Style" . (Yuiitsu shinmei zukuri). The noteworthy point in Divine Brightness Style architecture jp . i .i is the posts that support the edges of the roof (Munamochi \ _ bashira), because the wood .; pieces extend horizontally to either side of the building. These roof-sustaining posts appear in the drawing of the 'j ancient copper bell-shaped artifacts (D6taku) which were cast during the middle Yayoi period about Figure 2. Inner Shrine: aerial view. 2,000 years ago. Similar posts seem to have been used in raised-floor Themsixty-firstShikinenoenof ceremony, buildings of the Yayoi period. The existence of such posts can be deduced building, was held in 1993. The sixty- from excavation of post holes, and it appears that such buildings were used as granaries in tribal hamlets of the period. From the above, it can be surmised that the archetype of Divine Brightness Style might have originated from raised-floor granaries. Such a granary might have been built by every few houses to store communal grain. t _77AP Figure 3. The Kinensoi Ceremony is held to pray to Amaterasu Omikami for the - - -. ~~~~~happiness of the Emperor's family, the :~~~..- -, ~~~~~prosperity of Japan, the welfare of Japanese people, anca a hountiful harvest. 24 lsao Tokoro _^ Chronologically, the granaries go back to the Yayoi period, when rice agri- culture became disseminated in Japan. Moreover, the buildings may not .... * have been mere granaries. People might have believed that if unhulled rice seeds were stored on a shelf during winter, new life, which is the soul of rice (Ina doma), would be generated and embodied in rice seeds. With this life, the belief might have gone, one seed that was planted in the forthcoming spring would multiply 10,000-fold. Hence, to the ancient people, the granary-storehouse was sacred and mysterious. In this way, the raised-floor architecture became established, specifically as a sacred place that enshrines the soul of rice. The original simple style 49 ^ i' ' became more sophisticated as time passed from the Yayoi period to the % , Tumulus period (fourth to sixth centuries). The architectural development ~ s- - - must have been completed prior to the mid-sixth century, when Chinese- Figure 4. Daily OmikesoiCeremony. At the style Buddhist temple architecture was transmitted to Japan, along with Mikeden building in the Outer Shrine, offeringsmadeinIse Shrine'sfeldsare Buddhism. Buddhist architecture was different from Shinto style; the served to gods every day in the morning and evening. Since the days ofEmperor style of the former was grand and luxunous, with stone foundations, Yuryaku about 1,500 years ago, thcse painted walls, and tiled roofs. ceremonies have been held without a single day's intermission. The town of Ise is located east of Yamato, present-day Nara. It is a sacred place because the sun rises from this direction. Amaterasu Omikami, the supreme deity of the Inner Shrine of the Grand Shrine of Ise, was wor- shipped as the Ancestral Goddess of the Imperial Family, as well as in her own capacity as the Sun Goddess. It is thought that this goddess was enshrined in Ise during the reign of Emperor Suinin, probably at the end of the third century. Furthermore, it is said that Toyouke Omikami, the - ~ great deity of the Outer Shrine of the Grand Shrine of Ise, revered as Divine of food and industry, was enshrined during the reign of Emperor Yuryaku in the latter half of the fifth century. At the Inner Shrine, the supreme Shinto shrine architectural style called Singular Divine Brightness Style (Yuiitsu shinmei zukuri) mentioned above, gradually developed into perfection. Subsequently, the Outer Shrine was con- structed by imitating the Inner Shrine, which may be the reason that the two shrine buildings are almost identical. Removal and Renewal Every 20 Years The original, constructed more than 1,000 years ago, was a wooden build- ing whose posts were erected by digging shallow holes in the ground, with Figure 5. Misomahajime-sai Ceremony a thatched roof. The longevity of such a building, located in Ise, in a wood- to soothe the mountain god, prior to felling trees. Since Japanese cypresses ed area with high humidity, is said to have been about 30 years maximum. on the mountain have not yer grown fu1ly, Moreover it was and is extremely vulnerable to strong winds and fire. Mt. Kiso have been used for rebuilding. Yet it is not entirely impossible to preserve the original style semi- permanently, even though it consists of wood and bamboo. An example unprecedented in history is the Grand Shrine of Ise. At the early stages The Grand Shrine of Ise: Preservation by Removal and Renewal 25 Figure 6. Shokujusai Ceremony. In Ise Shrine the building believed to be the resi- dence of the god is rebuilt every 20 years. Divine treasures (clothing and fumiture) attached to the building also are remade. Aceremony called Shikinen SengO is held to mark the movement of the god from i* 8 7 -, the old residence to the new one. The -= h*5 4 - r'- , r E building is made using about 13,000 -_fi_5_ _*t ... .... . ... . s - ' .. Japanese cypresses of different sizes. the buildings were repaired as needed, and a complete renewal took place whenever the deterioration became irreparable. The Jinshin War took place in 672. During the battles Prince Oama wor- shipped the Ancestral Goddess Amaterasu Omikami enshrined in Ise from a great distance. After he won the war, he ascended as Emperor Tenmu, and dispatched Princess Oku to Ise to serve as the Imperial Sacred Priestess. Emperor Tenmu made an effort to set up an administrative office at the Grand Shrine of Ise. Subsequently, Empress Jit6 succeeded Emperor Tenmu, and observed the late Emperor's intentions in gover- nance. In particular, she instituted the system of regular removal of the Grand Shrine of Ise every 20 years. In the fourth year of her reign (690) the rite of reconstructing the great shrine building of the Inner Shrine was performed, and in the sixth year of her reign the rite of reconstruct- ing the great shrine building of the God Toyouke Omikami of the Outer Shrine was carried out, both by her decree. These were the first in the series of twentieth-year reconstructions. After the Edo period, the inter- val became a full 20 years, which means that the reconstruction is car- ried out in the twenty-first calendar year. This special year is called the Year of Regular Ceremony (Shikinen). In this year renewal of all the sanctuaries takes place, and when it is finished, the rite of removing the Divines (SengO) is performed. These ceremonies have been carried out to the present day. The system does not merely involve reconstruction of the shrines. The decorations and furniture of the shrines, and more than 1,000 items (divided into more than 100 groups) of sacred treasures and garments are newly produced and installed. These are handiworks of great finesse, equivalent to national treasures. . ! sulo To,kcv.J 4 -it Figure 7. Making offerings to the god at ' the KonnomesoiCeremony. Five times 3 each year (at the Kinensoi, Kannomesoi and Niinomesai Ceremonies, and . Tsukinominomatsuri Ceremonies in June and December), the Emperor makes offerings to the god at Ise Shrine. WA"~ Thus, over the past 1,300 years, some lapses occurred. Total reconstruc- tion and refurbishment was delayed by more than 120 years during the civil war period in the latter half of Muromachi period (mid-fifteenth to mid-sixteenth century). At this time the revival of the system was brought about by lesser-known people, such as a nun (Nun Keik6in Seijun). Nevertheless, complete renewals of the Grand Shrine of Ise including treasures and garments have been repeated, most recently in 1993 as the sixty-first such enterprise, since antiquity. -rdQ3v,&t. tc, to n V; 'jisdJi-)n-i - -'i f e, v Hv u ndred Yfa.vs How were such past achievements possible? Great amounts of money and human resources were and are required for the renewal, but it does not mean that sufficient money and manpower were enough for the enterprise to be carried out. In the deep mountains of Mt. Hiei, at the Central Hall (Konpon Chudi6) of Enryakuji Temple, Monk Saich6 (later Great Master Dengyo) opened the Heavenly Platform (Tendai) Sect of Buddhism, reciting a poem (Woka): Akirakeku nochi no Hotoke no Brightly Miyo modemo may this fire of the Law Hikari tsutaeyo pass on and light up the later generations Nori no Tomoshibi of the believers of the Buddha The religious light that he lit still burns brightly as a guiding lantern today, after 1,200 years. This is because the monks have been replenish- ing the fuel for the lantern, observing and preserving the precious teach- ings of their founder, the Great Master Dengy6. Shrine administration is carried out at the Grand Shrine of Ise. For exam- ple, to reconstruct the Shrine building, over 10,000 pieces of Japanese cypress (Hinoki)-roughly 10,000 cubic meters-are necessary. In the first The Grand Shrine of Ise: Preservatioo by Removei and Renewai 27 few hundred years the cypress trees were cut from Mt. Kamiji or Mt. Takukura behind the sanctuary. Eventually, good cypress trees were located in the mountains upstream of the Miya River, or at Osugidai Plain in Wakayama Prefecture. After the Middle Edo period, Mt. Kiso in the Owari domain, which is located in the inner part of Mino Province (Gifu Prefecture) came to be designated as Mt. Misoma. After the Meiji Restoration of 1868, an 8,000-hectare-wide forest managed by the Imperial Household Agency in Kiso area became the "Forest for Preparation of Shrine Construction." Yet the high-quality cypress wood of Mt. Kiso will not last forever. Therefore, it was decided in 1923 that about 3,000 hectares of Jingo Forests (Mt. Kamiji, Mt. Shimaji, Mt. Mae, and others) under the man- agement of the Grand Shrine of Ise were to be procured as the growing field to supply the wood for Shrine construction. In other words they became the secondary Shrine Forest. This grand plan looks several hun- dred years into the future. Here, the cypress trees take up 50 percent of the area, and the other 50 percent is taken up by coniferous and broad- leaved forests. By cultivating them successively for 200 years, more than 3,600,000 koku, or 1,008,000 cubic meters, of cypress wood will be obtained. This is approximately 30 times more wood than is necessary for a single renewal, which requires only 120,000 koku (33,600 cubic meters) of cypress wood pieces. The wood used for the reconstruction is mostly 60 centimeters in diam- eter at 1 meter above ground. Such a tree is about 200 years old. However, the wood pieces called mihishirogi, which make the casket that enshrines the most important deity, or the main roof-edge-supporting posts erected at both sides of the main building of the Inner and Outer Shrines, must be superb. For this purpose, more than 30 wood pieces with diameter of over one meter are used. Such trees must be grown for more than 400 years. In this way the authorities (Shrine Department of Forestry) continue the work day and night, thinking ahead about 10 renewals (200 years hence) or 20 renewals (400 years hence). Preparation for the renewal starts eight years in advance. The first of the series of ceremonies are the Yamaguchi Festival and Konomoto Festival, which are held within the Shrine premises. Subsequently, the Miso- Ohojime Festival is held within the mountain forests in Kiso, to offer grat- itude to the deities of the mountain for producing and fostering the required wood pieces. When a cypress tree is cut down, without fail a new cypress seedling is planted to replace it. After the removal ceremony the old wood used to erect the shrine for the 20 previous years is dismantled, and distributed to other Japanese shrines to be reused, as it is still quite satisfactory. 28 Isao Tokoro lP 'b ni by shr ine sa fo future u m 7.. The Figure 8. Eoch April treesare planted on a Retrieving Purity and Power through the Religious Right nearby mountain by shrine staff for future Shokujusai ceremony is held to mark this The reason the Grand Shrine of Ise was preserved in its original state of occasion. About 200 years from now, the more than 1,000 years ago is precisely that it was not built with durable shrine building will be rebuilt using solely Japanese cypresses from the mountain. stones or bricks, but with wood, which is prone to rotting. To preserve a purity suitable for the Divines in wooden architecture, it was necessary to constantly renew everything. The timbers used in a wooden building could last longer than 20 years, but in turn, 20 years may have been considered the maximum to preserve the purity of the building. Moreover, if it were renewed every 20 years, the Shrine carpenters and artisans who build and produce the sacred treasures and garments could pass on their skills and technology to their disciples, and the disciples can experience the teachings by participating in the process. If the renewal were not carried out every 20 years, the Shrine buildings would not be pure and clean. Moreover, in the interim the superior skills and craftsmanship of the artisans and carpenters might become extinct. Thus, since the institution of the system, a tremendous amount of work has accumulated as the involved people observed the system strictly. The culmination of such effort is the Grand Shrine of Ise, which can be considered a crystallization of Japanese wis- dom and discipline. It stands tall today, embodying the technology of its constant renewal. The significance of the removal is found in the following religious cere- monial processes. First, beautiful sacred treasures and garments are The Grand Shrine of Ise: Preservation by Removol and Renewal 29 placed to decorate the newly built shrine. Then the Divines remove to the shrine. Finally, sacred food and liquor (Shinsen) are offered to the Divines. At the Grand Shrine of Ise, which the Japanese people have nicknamed "Dear Old Ise" (0-lse-son), food such as grain, vegetable, fish, and shell- fish (Jukusen) are cooked and offered to all the Divines at the Dining Building of the Divines (Mikeden) of the Outer Shrine in the morning and in the evening. In the middle of the ninth month of the lunar calendar (present October), the Thanksgiving Festival for the Divines (Kanname-sai) is held at midnight. A meal that consists of rice from the year's new crop and sake are offered. The highlight of the annual festivals is the Grand Thanksgiving Festival for the Divines (Dai-Kannome-soi), which is held every 20 years, in a renewed set-up within the newly constructed build- ing. This is the grand festival of the renewal of the Grand Shrine of Ise. Through this religious rite it is believed that purity of mind is retrieved; one seeks rebirth of life force, which prevails with new power. As a result, the sacred force of everlasting youth (Tokowaka) is maintained. The Treaty on the Protection of World Heritage Sites divides world her- itage in two groups. One group covers heritages in natural environment, and the other, cultural environments. The treaty also recognizes combi- nations of natural and cultural heritage. Many of the Japanese sacred places, Shinto shrines, including the Grand Shrine of Ise, originated from Yorishiro, which means a symbol for the Divines. These Divines were believed to be the deities of nature, or ancestral deities. Shrines as their dwelling places served as the central spots from which festivals, rites, performances, and other cultural events originated and were performed every year. In this context, nature and culture are indivisible, forming one entity. In other words human beings are able to live on thanks to the benevolent blessings of nature and ancestors. Human beings, in turn, respect nature and ancestors as Divines, simply and unpretentiously. Such faith is kept alive in the Japanese shinto shrine, a sacred place still active in the modern age. There is much to learn from the Grand Shrine of Ise. It is alive with everlasting youth, as it possesses elements of both old and new, and thus inherits and transmits everlasting wisdom. M Stewardship: An Architect's Perspective Norman L. Koonce istoric cities ore sacred places. While he was researching a H vaccine for polio, Dr. Jonas Salk told me that he had been vice( residentucd chefexccut,veoff;ce| experiencing a dead-end at every turn and wanted to dis- of the Americas Institrte of Architects* tance himself from the work. He then went to a thirteenth- or serves or the boord5 of the Boyer Foundot,onforAdvancedStudies century monastery in Assisi for a retreat, and the spiritual- and St. Po'ls Cathedral Tfist in America. ity of its architecture was of such great inspiration that he was able to do intuitive thinking far beyond any he had ever done before. Under that influence, he said, "I designed the research that I thought would result in a vaccine, went home to my laboratory in Pittsburgh to validate it, and it was indeed correct." The influence of architecture has a great effect on our lives. This is a spiritual currency-the richness that our historic cities share with and through mosques, synagogues, temples, cathedrals, and all those other precincts that we call sacred places. They are where we lay up our highest spiritual treasures, where we go to be spiritually refreshed. No one culture or no one country owns a monopoly on such places. They have been created by the peoples of the world and belong to the peoples of the world. They are our common heritage. They are evidence of and a reaffirmation of our humanity. Unless we honor the achievement of those who have created these sacred places-the patrons, the craftsmen, the architects, the people- unless we celebrate their continuing value, their power to elevate and enrich the human experience, unless we become advocates for resources as precious and irreplaceable in their way as the rainforest and fertile soils, it is not likely that we will develop the critical mass to protect, pre- serve, and perpetuate the historic cities and sacred places necessary to our spiritual well-being. This idea is as old as the Greek writer Simonides, who wrote circa 500 B.C. that "The city is the teacher of man." History is not a gravestone; it is not a vault nor a mausoleum. It is living, adding layers, staying vital and green. To be loved, our historic cities and sacred places must have friends. They must be used; they must be a part of the fabric of our lives. 30 Stewardship: An Architect's Perspective 31 In one sense the task of preserving the architecture of our historic cities and sacred places is easier than it was even a few decades ago. Increasingly, governments are coming to appreciate the value of historic cities and sacred places. There is a dawning realization of the environ- mental issues that are part of what I might call the ethic of historic preservation. They are tourist destinations. They are engines for econom- ic development. At the same time, the task is more difficult than ever. Populations are growing. Developing nations must feed their people and offer the prom- ise of a better life. Too often, governments regard preservation and development as opposite poles. In too many cases progress is ushered in to the sound of the wrecking ball. It is an attitude that I as an American can say has done great damage to our historic cities and sacred places. But even here, in our market-driven economy, there has emerged an appreciation for the sense of place, for the roots of pride that come when we do not silence our historic cities and sacred places, but allow them to continue to speak to us, to our children, and to our children's children. Three things are required to keep this nourishing conversation alive. First, the political will, the sense of urgency, patrons, role models. These all come under the heading, leadership. Second is access to financial resources and provision of financial incentives. Third is the availability of theprofessional and technological resources to the developing nations of this world, who stand the greatest risk of losing extraordinary heritage. Such a loss would not simply be theirs; we all would be poorer. It would be an irrevocable diminishing of life. Since the National Historic Preservation Act in 1996 was passed, thou- sands of towns, cities, localities, and all sizes of sites in the United States have felt the positive impact of commitment to the ethic of stewardship. We have developed a wide arsenal of preservation technologies. Indeed, our oldest subgroup within our organization is its Historic Resources Committee, founded in 1890. About eight years ago the American Architectural Foundation embarked on a national campaign to restore its headquarters, the historic Octagon, in Washington, D.C. (figure 1). The decision was made to pursue and indeed define a state-of-the-art restoration that would recover the Octagon's past and at the same time give it a viable future. In the rela- tively short life span of this nation the Octagon qualifies as an historic place. It was designed by the first architect of the United States Capitol, Dr. William Thornton. It became the anchor of the residential develop- ment of this city shortly after L'Enfant's Plan for Washington, D.C. was laid out. It became a refuge for President and Dolly Madison when the White House was burned, and it was the site in which the Treaty of 32 NormGn L. Koonce t I EL. r~~~~~ Figure 1. The Octagon, Washington, D.C., -- 1801. Now the Museum of the American Architectural Foundation. - _ _ - Ghent was signed, ending the War of 1812 and remaining the accord for peace between the U.S. and Great Britain. In 1897 the Octagon became the national headquarters of the American Institute of Architects. It was here that the Macmillan Plan was drafted, which restored the integrity of L'Enfant's grand design for this city. It was here, too, that our National Trust for Historic Preservation put down its very strong roots. In restoring the Octagon we learned a great deal about research, tech- nologies, public education, and how to gain support. Out of such efforts there comes not only an architectural legacy but also a renewed sense of community. This is the magic that awaits us in our historic cities and sacred places. Jonas Salk often shared this phrase: "We must always strive to be good ancestors for future generations." Let us become that. U Part 11 Governance: Planning and Management of Heritage Preservation Editors' Note Good governance is an essential condition for a sustainable conservation and management of historic heritoge. Part 1I focuses on the range of public poli- cies and strategies adopted in Brazil, the Netherlands, Norway, the United States, and the Middle East and North Africa. Common to oll are the efforts to strengthen the legal and regulatory framework for heritage preservation; to decentralize responsibilities for rebuilding and mointenance from central to local agencies; and to provide incentives for private sector participation in preservation programs. Francisco Weffort's chapter on Brazil examines challenges posed by a multi- ethnic and multicultural society. It raises the question of the relevance of cul- tural policies in a globalized economy. Weffort quotes Robert Reich to say that in a globalized world economy "'only labor is notional."' Weffort says that when we speak of labor, we are speaking about education and culture under- stood as knowledge and erudition, but also as the exercise of creativity. Creativity is the source that nourishes the imagination and the instrument that transforms imagination into practice. Pedro Taddei discusses the Monumenta Program, which aims to strengthen capacity of Brazilian municipalities to maintain and preserve national listed 33 34 Editors' Note monuments. The government established a municipal revolving fund to ensure that rents from renovat- ed buildings are collected and earmarked for new investment projects in heritage restoration. The Monumenta program is expected to raise public awareness concerning the sustainable preservation of national monuments and to celebrate Brazil's cultural diversity. In the Netherlands, where 76,000 historic buildings and sites are registered, the responsibility for their protection is distributed among the state, municipal and provincial levels of administration. Alle Elbers discusses a new mechanism-the National Restoration Fund-created to encourage private preservation efforts. A private foundation manoges the revolving fund to disburse low-interest loans to owners of historic buildings. A survey conducted by the Dutch Ministry of Finance indicates thot the revolving fund has already generated steady profits and is projected to continue to do so over the next five years as it creates newjobs and contributes to economic development Siri Myrvoll takes us to Bergen, the second lorgest city of Norway and one of the oldest historic cities of Europe, which is listed on the World Heritage List. The historic center, which includes the wooden medieval harbor of Bryggen, is being preserved while it continues as a living part of the city and not as a museum. The primary goal of urban management in Bergen is to protect the cultural landscape and the historic identity of the historic center, which is threatened by heavy traffic and new construction. How to define the value of urban preservation? In his chapter on the protection of architectural heritage in expanding metropolises, Michael Sorkin reflects on public perception of authenticity, which is often confused by simulacro in contemporary architecture. People often accept the virtual recreation of his- toric buildings in movie-making or the contemporary reproduction of great architecture. The risk is that many connot tell the difference. Sorkin argues thot the best line of defense for authentic historic archi- tecture is authentic contemporary architecture. "However, if all space-making is caught in a matrix of simulation, then neither old or new can enjoy the freedom of its own space, " he says. He concludes that the ultimate peril of accepting imitation is that we become actors rather than citizens, pretending to be part of an environment that fools us into thinking it is real. The "new urbanism," an ascendant move- ment in the United States, strongly suggests its neo-conservative inclination: a nostalgic return to on idealized lifestyle of a distant post. In discussing the protection of culturalpatrimony through developmentprojects, Michael Cernea points to the complexities involved in translating policy and conceptual support for historic city preservotion into operational programs, and the difficulties in funding such projects. Cemea explores how World Bank-assisted programs address myriad technicol, socioeconomic, and politicol issues related to the identification, design, preparation, and implementation of cultural heritage activities and projects. Studying a ronge of sectors and projects, Cemea asserts that when urban infrastructure works under- token to address sector problems are designed with cultural sensitivity and heritage awareness, their contribution can be long-lasting even if they do not explicitly invest in historic building restoration. The implication for development agencies is that their projects' portfolios do play a role, directly or indi- rectly, in the comprehensive endeavor of sustainable preservation of heritage sites. Brazil: Challenges of a Multiethnic and Multicultural Society razil is a nation of multiple ethnic and cultural roots, but it Francisco C. Weffort is not a multiethnic and multicultural nation as understood in many places, for example, in North America. Although this FrancuitscC r effrctsitheM,npster may appear to be a chronological contradiction, a Brazilian is of political science, and on author first and foremost a Brazilian and then oriundo (of other ori- gin). As a Brazilian, one can, for example, recognize his or her Italian origins and value them, as I do, but probably will not call himself an Italian-Brazilian. The concept of roots in Brazil is difficult to define chronologically, because these roots can re-emerge from the uppermost branches of the family tree. Characteristic of the vitality of the Brazilian culture is that we have formed a nation not only from indigenous and Portuguese Catholic roots, but the nation renews its roots and to a certain degree creates new ones. The Africans, who were brought by force, intermarried with the indigenous peoples and the Portuguese, and became an essential part of our cultural roots. But at the end of the millcnnium even the triad of indigenous, Portuguese, and African did not fully reflect our ethnic and cultural diver- sity. A great variety of Europeans, Arabs, Japanese, and, more recently, Koreans and Hispanic Americans, reaffirms and recreates our roots. Colonization From the outset, the cultural formation of Brazil is the convergence of a great number of different ethnic groups. As in other Latin American coun- tries, the Iberians, protagonists of the great feats of circumnavigation of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, inaugurated the maritime roots by which the diverse other peoples arrived. Our nation was the setting upon which numerous invasions and colonizing campaigns were staged, prima- rily by the French and the Dutch as well as the Portuguese (figure 1). 35 36 Froncisco C Weffort Figure 1. Igreja da Se in Olinda, Pernambuco was one of the early settlements established in northeast Brazil by the Portugaese colonizer. '~xR The Catholic Influence As is well known, the Catholic Church was one of the pillars supporting the great maritime discoveries. The presence of its missionary orders, particularly the Jesuits, was remarkable in our country during the entire colonial period until the rise of Enlightenment in Portugal in the eigh- teenth century. The missions have left an indelible mark on the forma- tion of Brazil. Today, their numerous artifacts constitute the most impor- tant historic and artistic heritage under federal protection. Of the approximately 1,000 listed monuments, 332 are churches and chapels, the oldest of which dates from the first half of the sixteenth century. Countless colonial chapels are located in remote areas, hundreds of kilo- meters from what is known as civilization, where indigenous villages had formerly existed and been converted or where colonizers had explored mines (figure 2). The Jesuit campaigns of conversion were culturally intense, lengthy, and extended over a wide territory without regard to the frontiers between the Portuguese and Spanish possessions. The artifacts of the Sete Povos dos Miss6es (Seven Nations of the Missions) are noteworthy, and they still connect Brazil, Argentina, Paraguay, and Bolivia. During their cam- paigns, the missionaries developed the basic principles of the language considered predominant among the indigenous peoples. The language, which was called Tupi Guarani or lingua geral (common language), dis- seminated from the North to the South as a vehicle of conversion. The lingua geral was of great importance in the cultural formation of Brazil. Its influence can be seen by the large quantity of indigenous words that have been incorporated in our language, rendering it difficult Brazil: Challenges of a Multiethnic and Multicultural Society 37 for the Portuguese to understand. Nonetheless, only in this century have Figure 2. Bird's-eye view of Ouro Preto, wNith the Church of S5o Francisco we recognized the great diversity among the different indigenous peo- De Assis, a national monument and ples. When the Portuguese first arrived in Brazil, there were about 1,200 a World Heritage Site. different indigenous groups. Today, there are only around 200, each with its own diverse culture. Only in recent decades have we been able to identify and recognize this diversity, this cultural richness. Perhaps it is no coincidence that this recent trend of recognition has occurred at a time when the indigenous populations are starting to grow again. I do not want to affirm that we have addressed all of the problems afflicting them, but rather that this recognition corresponds in some way with an improved self-esteem among indigenous groups. The Indigenous Influence We could prolong indefinitely a discussion of the contributions made by the indigenous peoples to Brazilian culture, from our most typical dietary customs, the frequency with which we bathe, our relationships with water and probably with nature and our bodies, the habit of using herbal medicines, our music, the way we treat infants, to our coats and tails, the ethnic features of our caboclos (mestizos), and the types of housing in the interior of the country. A large number of influences and features demonstrate not only the diversity and breadth of these contributions but also their permanence. These contributions have made Brazilians feel "Brazilian" since the first Europeans established themselves in Brazil. The African Contribution Besides the contribution of the indigenous peoples, the contribution brought by the Africans to Brazilian culture is fundamental. Brought as 38 Francisco C Weffort slaves to substitute for indigenous labor, the Africans rapidly intermar- ried with the indigenous and Portuguese people, recreating their own customs, forms of expression, and religions. Today, their influence over all Brazilian culture is profound, all-encompassing, and inextricable. As with the indigenous peoples, the African contribution extends to our dietary customs, our music, our way of dress, our ethnic features, but overall is most pronounced in the syncretism that developed throughout the cen- turies between the African religions and the Catholic religion (figure 3). Prohibited from practicing their own religions, in many places the slaves developed new religious manifestations in which their divinities are rep- resented by saints from the Catholic liturgy. Over a long period Catholic parishes absorbed some of the African ritu- als. The most eloquent example is that of the Irmandade de Mu/heres ... w. I Negros, or Sisterhood of African Women, devotees of Our Lady of Good Death. These lay sisterhoods were composed of elderly women who, dur- ing the time of slavery, performed funeral ceremonies for the souls of the ~~ - deceased slaves who had been prohibited by the Church from receiving the last rites. Some of these sisterhoods exist to the present day in an unstable relationship with the hierarchy of the Catholic Church. Besides being Catholic, many of the Sisterhood members are Maes-de-Santo Vs{3 v - (Candomble priestesses) and maintain their own sacred places, where they practice CandombIl, the Afro-Brazilian religion. CandombIl is prob- ably the most important religion in our country. It mobilizes a large pro- Figure 3. Marketplace in Salvador, portion of the Brazilian population from all ethnic groups on the day of Bahia selling beads, seeds, and sea shells used in Afro-Brazilian religions. its most popular saint, lemanja, Goddess of the Seas (figure 4). The Jewish Contribution Since the first maritime expedition to our continent in 1500, Cristalosnovos (Christianized Jews) and Jews held diverse civil and military positions. In the early seventeenth century, when the Dutch Prince Mauricio de Nassau established the headquarters of the West Indies Company in Recife in the Brazilian northeast, the first rabbi arrived in Brazil. Of Portuguese origin this rabbi had lived with his community in the Netherlands, taking refuge from the Inquisition in Portugal. In the Americas he was the founder of the first Jewish Synagogue on the new continent, the Kahal Zur Israel Synagogue. For over 25 years the religion of northeast Brazil developed into prosperous colonies that were tolerant of different religious and eth- nic groups. When the Portuguese reconquered Recife, the Jews took refuge in the Antilles Islands and later in New Amsterdam, today's New York, where they were also pioneers. These seeds sown in Brazilian soil remained inert for more than two cen- turies. They began to flourish at the end of the nineteenth century and the dawn of the twentieth century with the arrival of a new contingent of European immigrants subsequent to the abolition of slavery in Brazil. Brazil: Challenges af a Multiethnic and Multicultural Society 39 Figure 4. Salvador, Bahia, is one of the : hfirst Portuguese settlements in Brazil and a renowned center of Afro-Brazilian culture. i,.~~~~ Presently, we are engaged in recovering the traces left from the colonial period by the Jewish community, to celebrate their invaluable contribu- tion to the formation of our culture. The theme of pluralism in our cultural, ethnic, and religious origins has gained pre-eminence in recent years because the country was celebrating the five hundredth anniversary of the arrival of the first Europeans, which coincided with the passage of the millennium. We are also coming to the end of the historic period that started in the 1920s and 1930s, during which Brazil developed from an agrarian, underdeveloped country into an urban industrial nation and, with the sixth largest economy, a world eco- nomic power. Due to its demographic, economic, and social characteris- tics, Brazil is one of the most important nations in the world today. The City of SAo Paulo has reportedly the largest concentration of German cap- ital outside of Germany. It is the largest Swedish industrial city outside of Stockholm. It is also the third largest city in the world. Since the 1930s Brazil has had a remarkably successful economic devel- opment. However, that does not mask, but rather accentuates, the extreme social inequalities and great regional disparities that still exist in Brazil. Upon the completion of the five-hundredth anniversary of the arrival of the Europeans, we are entering a new era. One of its charac- teristics is that, besides our own internal economic crisis of 1999, we participate in the crises of the world. We are proving that we are capa- ble of surviving crises, imported as well as internal. 40 Francisco C. Weffort Developing a Cultural Policy What is the relevance of a national cultural policy in Brazil in a global- ized world at the turn of the millennium? Professor Robert Reich, Secretary of Labor in the first Clinton administration, affirms that in a globalized world in which capital seeks fast yields, onlylaboris national. When we speak of labor, we are speaking about education and culture. Culture is understood to be knowledge and erudition but also the exercise of creativity, in other words, the source that nourishes the imagination and the instrument that transforms imagination into practice. In this context culture must be within the domain of state policy if we want to project into the future an image of the place that is our coun- try in this globalized world. Paradoxically, the globalization of the world economy is bringing culture and development together. Frequently, glob- alization brings about not the weakening of a national and local culture but their strengthening. In Brazil we can observe the strengthening of national and local cultures. The technical means of production have also evolved to the point that there is no economic reason for uniformity, which previously had been imposed by assembly-line industrial production typical of the machine age. This fact, allied with the communications revolution, seems to be causing consistent demand for specificity, for diversity, for the most dif- ferent forms that local and national production can supply. If we wish to build a country capable of exacting from globalization its greatest rewards, we must democratize the image of our cultural heritage, making it open and pluralistic, closer to the reality of our structure and roots as a nation and to the development profile of our economy. U Policies of Historic and Cultural Heritage Preservation in Brazil In many countries that experienced economic cycles based on agricul- Pedro Taddei Neto tural or mining activities, entire regions were occupied, developed, and then suddenly abandoned because of soil erosion or mine deple- planner from Sdo Paulo, isdirector of the tion. So it was in Brazil with the cycles of sugar, gold, and coffee. Monumenta Program ofthe Min;stryof From 1500 to 1800 with the abrupt decline of the principal econom- ic activities, large segments of the population migrated in search of bet- ter opportunities, abandoning all the built infrastructure, such as cities, roads, ports, and processing plants. They took with them their financial resources and entrepreneurial skills. Ironically, it is exactly because of this sudden decline that innumerable treasures of imperial and colonial art and architecture have survived intact (figure 1). At the end of each economic cycle since the arrival of the Portuguese con- querors, the built assets remained in the ownership of the rural oligarchy, the Catholic Church and its charitable institutions, and the government. From the beginning of the twentieth century, with the advent of industrial- ization and urbanization, numerous historical ensembles succumbed to the pressure of real estate speculation; underwent programs of urban renewal, as in the center of Sao Paulo or Rio de Janeiro; or were reoccupied by low- income groups. Such is the case of Pelourinho in Salvador, Bahia. Once the splendid center of the first capital of Brazil, it was transformed into one of the country's largest enclaves of poverty (figure 2). In other cases entire cities, which in more prosperous times had been provincial capitals or important business and cultural centers, were sur- passed by new towns during industrialization. These regional develop- ment poles were better located for new economic frontiers and new communication networks. 47 42 Pedro Taddei Neto -, ' , Figure 1. Town center of Ouro Preto, - Miras Gerais, a national monument and a _ - World Heritage Site ." This took place in Ouro Preto, the rich capital city of the gold cycle, which was powerful until the end of the eighteenth century. During the nineteenth century Ouro Preto declined economically and at the dawn of twentieth century was superseded by Belo Horizonte, a city planned for the development of Brazil's largest mineral province, with the highest production of iron ore (figure 3). In 1936 in response to this challenge President Getulio Vargas signed a decree that regulated the protection of historic patrimony. Although Vargas had ascended to power by force, he was an ardent nationalist and assembled a group of vanguard intellectuals connected with the "Modernist movement." They simultaneously looked to the past as well as to the future and used history to legitimize the "Nation-Building" project. 3c- I F4The movement focused on the cultural and ethnic characteristics of the - 1ll w Brazilian national identity, which the adherents referred to as "the Roots." * 1 S f gL 1l The search for cultural roots led to the unintended development of an eth- _ - t nocentric aesthetic: an expression of the triad "White, Portuguese, and Catholic." This official aesthetic was anchored in the "Brazilian Baroque" F. -2IGS w i; period, that is, in the dominant style of colonial art and architecture. k U 9 ll Today, as a result of that ethnocentric position, most federally protected buildings in Brazil pertain to the colonial period. Of the 50 historic cen- ters and approximately 1000 individual buildings and sites listed in fed- . _ 11 eral historic registers, 40 percent are Catholic churches or institutions. This represents only a modest proportion of Brazil's historic and cultural heritage. The other 60 percent, which are monuments from different periods, are protected by state and municipal legislation. A significant Figure 2. Decaying buoldings in the old center of Salvador, Bahia. number of monuments are not listed and protected (figure 4). Policies of Historic and Culturol Heritage Preservotion in Brozil 43 k.Fgure3 Birds-eye view -,~ ~ of Ouro reto, Minas Gerais. In these last two categories are monuments of diverse styles representing different periods, above all an important collection of cultural assets repre- sentative of the Imperial period and the first decades of the Republic, char- acterized by European Eclecticism. These artifacts, left by the groups outside of the "WVhite, Portuguese, Catholic" triad over the course of our long histo- ry, have deteriorated or were lost to the cycles of new construction. There are numerous examples, such as the archeological sites that remain from the more than 1,200 indigenous groups who lived in Brazil before the arrival of the Portuguese. In addition there are the living cul- tures of the more than 200 indigenous groups or the hundreds of Terreiros de CandombIM-sacred sites of the Afro-Brazilian cult, Candomble, which has been extremely important in the formation of our national culture (figure 5). More than 400 Quilombos also exist today, frontier communities established by runaway slaves. The first Jewish temple in the Americas was built in Brazil. The Kahal Zur Israel Synagogue, established in Recife, Pernambuco, is a witness to the impor- tant presence of the Jewish community from the earliest days of the Colonial period. Only now are we trying to restore and protect it. After the abolition of slavery in Brazil new waves of immigration brought Italians, Germans, Poles, Japanese, and Arabs, among others. These new immigrants brought their cultures and participated in the growth of the nation, but an insignificant number of monuments representative of their cultures have been listed or protected. Until recently, the official policy with its ethnocentric focus contributed to distancing the patrimony from the people, who could only tenuously 44 Pedro Taddei Neto I~~~~~~~~~~~~~A ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Figure 4. Richly ornate baroque interior r of the Church of SAo Francisco, Salvador, Bahia.- - - identify with the symbols of the rural oligarchy: the culture of WVhite- Portuguese-Catholic. On the other hand, cultural heritage legislation generated during the Vargas period was characterized by centrism and paternalism. It entrust- ed the federal government with the final responsibility for the conserva- tion of historical assets. In general owners of historic buildings had limited means, and they relin- quished the properties to the mercy of the public sector. The municipal- responsibility for conservation of these buildings. Progressive neglect on the part of these public agencies led the federal government to a vicious cycle. With an increased burden on the budget, '~routine maintenance was reduced. WVithout maintenance the neglected properties deteriorated, requiring costly capital reconstruction works. When these restored properties were not regularly maintained, they _ sooner or later required the same repairs again. Figure _. Preparing for a d In this manner local communities as well as tourists became more and F e .Prepn,aring or a Credistansii fromrcuurval herge. b ingrs. c oeremonyt Savaor Ba mr disacedfoms cucltua eiae. EvnWore ith anincreased bureontebdget, Policies of Historic and Cultural Heritage Preservation in Brazil 45 constraints since the 1970s, the federal government limited the scope of its listings and reduced the number of monuments added to the historic register. With the adoption of new cultural policies in the 1990s, the face of Brazilian cultural heritage is changing. Under the leadership of the Ministry of Culture the first measures have been taken to protect the assets that, until now, have been neglected. The turning point occurred when private-sector partners became involved in this domain-attracted by a federal law that awards tax-based incentives program. The first stage of the federal program of sustainable restoration of urban historic patrimony is being executed in partnership with four municipal- ities (figure 6). The Monumento Program is based on the following mech- anism in each project city: the rents accrued from the buildings, restored with the program funds, are collected in a municipal revolving fund, ear- marked for restoration work. These funds will be reapplied in new areas scheduled for restoration. The new funding mechanism will lighten pressure on the federal govern- ment. It will enable the government to deploy its budget resources more flexibly, both in extending its regulatory and legal protection of cultural property as well as in maintaining the federally listed monuments, which fall under its responsibility. U IF - ., - -~ rF gure 6. Adaptive reuse of the old buildings on Rua do Bom Jesus, Recife, Pernambuco, Preservation Policies and Financing in the Netherlands Alle Elbers n the Netherlands a distinction is made between historic buildings registered by the state and those registered by local authorities. This Alle Elbers is director, Bousvcentrum distinction is especially important in respect to the difference in legal International, the Netherlands, wshich is affihiated with the Union protection and the possibilities for subsidization. oflnternationol Buildings; ond is o meroberofNIROV, the Dutch Institute ofPhysical Plonning and Housing. Historic Building Stock In total 76,000 historic buildings and objects are registered (table 1). The majority of the registered historic objects were built before 1850 (figure 1). Some years ago an inventory was made of valuable objects created from 1850 to'1940. Only a small portion of these (approximately 12,000) will be added to the list of protected state monuments by the year 2000. Meanwhile, a new survey is being prepared to inventory the interesting buildings, objects, and ensembles created after 1940. Table 1. Historic building stock, the Netherlands Category Number State monuments 45,000 Municipal monuments 30,000 Provincial monuments 1,000 Total 76,000 Source: Bouwcentrum International 1999. 46 Preservation Policies and Financing in the Netherlands 47 Figure 1. Koudenhorn 66-70, Haarlem, the Netherlands. About 80 percent of the historic stock consists of houses (figures 2, 3). The other 20 percent consists of churches, castles, civil works, windmills, and smaller objects. A substantial part of the historic building stock is located in small towns and villages. Role of Main Actors The main actors in the field of preservation are the state, municipalities, and the private sector. The State The main responsibilities of the state are to (1) develop policy and legis- lation, (2) provide subsidies, and (3) develop and disseminate knowledge and experience. In the last decades several policy plans were developed that show a gradual shift from object-oriented policy to policy to preserve historic structures. Today preservation of historic structures, ensembles, and archaeological sites is a very important issue in physical planning. Other developments that can be observed are shifts from restoration to maintenance, from lump-sum subsidies to financing, and from the state to municipalities; and strengthening the role of the private sector. The Historic Buildings and Ancient Monuments Act rules preservation in the Netherlands. This Act settles: 1. Designation and registration of cultural heritage 2. Designation and protection of historic urban and village areas 3. Procedures for obtaining a permit to restore a protected monument 4. Means of coercion (in case upkeep of monuments is threatened or illegal construction activities are taking place) 5. Subsidies and allocation of subsidies. 48 Alle Elbers i i ' ''',-.''.; ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~' 4 i , qi ., it~~~~~~~~~- Figure 2. Kasteel de Haere, _ ,| 01st, the Netherlands. _ 1 - - i I 4 - f - f f i Figure 3. Bociwual, Culemborg, the Netherlands. Preservation Policies and Financing in the Netherlands 49 The system of subsidies is quite differentiated. In the case of restoration the amount of subsidy depends on the type and function of the monu- ment and sometimes also on the category of owner. Some examples are: 1. Restoration activities for churches and windmills are subsidized to a maximum of 70 percent of the (approved) restoration costs. 2. A private organization (foundation) whose main objective is to con- tribute to the preservation of historic buildings also can obtain a subsidy of 70 percent for all types of monuments. 3. A 60 percent subsidy can be obtained to restore monuments owned by municipalities. 4. For all other monuments a subsidy can be obtained to a maximum of 50 percent. 5. More than 10 years ago a special subsidy was introduced for the maintenance of churches. Today this type of subsidy also is available for other categories, mainly objects that no longer have an econom- ic function. 6. A special subsidy has been introduced for the upkeep of country houses, including the park belonging to the country house. 7. Last but not least there is a tax incentive for owners of historic build- ings. They are allowed to deduct maintenance costs from their incomes. Municipalities In the Netherlands subsidies are allocated via the municipalities. They have to deal with preservation in a very planned way. Every four years they have to make a complete inventory of the need for restoration of listed monuments (table 2). Based on this inventory, the available budg- et is allocated to the municipalities. After deciding on the subsidy budg- et, local authorities draw up a multiyear plan, which is the base for allo- cation of subsidies to investors. Municipalities fix the amount of subsidy an initiator will receive, issue the permit for restoration, and conduct the restoration process. Table 2. Distribution of historic building stock by size of municipality Population Percent Fewer than 100,000 inhabitants 35 30,000-100,000 inhabitants 25 Fewer than 30,000 inhabitants 40 Source:Bouwcentrum International 1999. 50 Alle Elbers Private Sector The third main actor in the field of preservation is the private sector. First are the investors in preservation and upkeep. These could be pri- vate owners or private firms, but also a specific private entity, such as the Limited for Urban Renewal. In most large cities in the Netherlands municipalities and (primarily) local firms together establish such limit- ed partnership companies. The main objective of such a Ltd. is to safe- guard historic buildings. In case an owner is not able or willing to restore his or her property, the company can purchase it, restore the building, and sell or let it. Profit will be used to realize the main objec- tive: the upkeep of historic buildings. Limited companies are exempt from paying taxes. The private sector is very well organized. Almost 350 organizations on the national, regional, and local levels represent the interest of owners of monuments. They all are members of the National Contact Monuments Foundation, which represents these private initiatives to the authorities at all levels and can be a catalyst in the exchange of knowl- edge and information among the private organizations. National Restoration Fund The National Restoration Fund is one of the private institutions (founda- tion) that plays an important role in the upkeep of historic buildings. In 1986 a new method was introduced to subsidize historic buildings. If the owner of the building is a tax-paying entity, part of the lump-sum sub- sidy is transferred to a low-interest loan. The interest is 5 percent below that of a commercial loan. For the investor the effect of this transfer is largely compensated by a higher tax deduction. The National Restoration Fund was established to provide low-interest loans. To do so, the Fund receives an annual budget from the state, cur- rently 15 million Dutch florins (Hfl 15 mln). Redemption and interest return to the Fund to be reused to finance restoration. Thus, a revolving fund has been created. The "revolved" money now is used to realize additional restoration in the sector. In time it is expected that the Fund will be able to finance all activities without budgetary support from the state. Within 15 years of its founding, the Fund's additional restoration activi- ties already exceed restoration works from the regular budget (table 3). Preservation Is Profitable In the beginning of the 1990s the Government of the Netherlands con- cluded that, despite all past efforts, the restoration backlog was consid- erable. Investments in the sector should increase to catch up this backlog Preservation Policies and Financing in the Netherlands 5 7 Table 3. Development of revolving fund (in Hfl-7000) Year Revolving fund Loans Extra available 1986 295 0 0 1990 15,725 11,400 2,350 1995 72,750 12,000 7,500 2000 140,000 15,000 23,000 2005 195,000 15,000 30,000 2007 235,000 15,000 36,000 Source: Bouweentrum International 1999. within a reasonable period of time. Before deciding to provide extra budg- et, the minister of finance first wanted to have an insight in the effects of such an extra impulse. The results of a survey showed that private investors would triple the state's total investment (subsidy). Because of this multiplier effect, 75 percent of the subsidy would come back to the treasury within one year. In the long term the return would exceed 100 percent, which means that investments in the preservation of historic buildings contribute to the economic development. Based on the above conclusion, the minister of finance could be con- vinced to provide additional budget for the sector. - Strategies for Preserving the Historic Identity of Bergen Siri Myrvoll ~ ergen, the second largest city in Norway, is one of Europe's * historic cities. Never a planned city, it grew centered around SirlMyrvollisdirectorofHentage its natural harbor as a self-structuring settlement, which kept Managemen t for the City of Bergen, Norwa y;amemberof the Norwegian its main features despite many devastating town fires (figure notioral committee ofICoMOS; and its 1). The particularly destructive fire in 1702 A.D. was largely represen tative on ClWIH, ICOMOS' - -priual agl nternationalcommitteeonhistoric responsible for the town's present version. Founded by King Olav Kyrre in towns and villages. 1070 A.D., the city center, as is every true historic town, is a compound of periods, both as to settlement structure and town plan. Its history may be traced both in the living town and in its underground-the up to 8-meter- thick archaeological deposits on which the present town is built. History and its remains have provided Bergen with its "identity"-the par- ticular "personality" that is a vital part of its charm. The historic center may be divided roughly in five parts, each with its separate identity: the medieval town, the post-medieval settlements on Nordnes and in Marken, the "new" harbor in Skuteviken, and the replanned "1916 district." The medieval town is situated on the northeast side of the Vagen harbor. It consists of the wooden medieval harbor quarter, Bryggen-one-time headquarters of the Hansa merchants in Bergen-and the town proper, Vagsbunnen, whose town plan, settlement structure, streets, and alleys date to the Middle Ages. Most of the district's buildings date back to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries but with medieval foundations. Some even have intact vaulted cellars. North of the medieval center, in Sandviken, the seventeenth- and eigh- teenth-century city extensions are remnants of a harbor with large wooden warehouses erected to cater to the extensive worldwide trade of the wealthy and cosmopolitan Bergen merchants of the time (figure 2). Until the mid- nineteenth century Bergen was the largest shipping port in Scandinavia. The 1880s saw an economic surge. Tall apartment buildings of the peri- od take up large areas outside the historic center. But even within the old 52 Strategies for Preserving the Historic Identity of Bergen 53 - ~~~~~~~~~~~~_E , .s ,: .= ,,-i , . ._;_: town they can be found towering side by side with the small wooden Figure 1. The City of Bergen seen from Mount Floiens. The medieval shoreline dwellings-a historic record of the unrestricted building boom between is on the right. 1880 and 1 899. The last catastrophic fire in 1916 also left its mark in an entirely new, beautiful and monumental, planned shopping area. In other words history has shaped the various parts of the town and has provid- ed Bergen with its special character. In addition Bergen is the proud host of a WVorld Heritage Site. The Hanseatic wooden harbor quarter, Bryggen, holds a special place in the cultural heritage of Bergen because of its importance for local, but also for national and world, heritage (figure 3). This district was inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1979. While being a historic city, Bergen is also very much alive. Its history may be seen as a document of the activity and developments through the centuries. Throughout its past the city has continuously met and dealt with new challenges and demands. It is not, and mustneverbe treated as an outdoor museum! With its historic monuments and city fabric Bergen itself is a heritage site, and the management of its urban development constitutes a major challenge. Its management is also a great responsibility to clPreserve and pass on the historical heritage, which is of local, national, and international value WhMaintain Bergen's particular identity Accomplish the above without strangling the living modern city, the economic center of the Norwegian west coast. 54 Siri MyrvoUl Figure 2. "Maaseskjaeret," monuments of the eighteenth-century international _ stockfish trade: one of the many wooden . - - _ warehouses in Skuteviken/Sandviken. - =T - -- Through the years the challenge of heritage management in Bergen was handled in two ways: 1. Through setting the focus on the preservation of the "objects" by list- ing monuments of outstanding value for protection, primarily archi- tectural monuments such as the banquet hall of king Hakon Hakonsson built in 1260 (figure 4), or the old town hall of 1556. Archaeological monuments and ruins also were automatically pro- tected by Norway's Cultural Heritage Act. 2. Through inventorying and listing "valuable" buildings and building categories on special inventory maps, with designated value classifi- cations. Categorization by age also has been used to classify value. These surveys were intended to aid town planners in their work. Unfortunately, they came to be regarded as "the whole truth," the quick and final solution to heritage protection. What was not on the list could be removed. No account was taken of the ever-growing list of "new" her- itage monuments, such as industrial heritage sites, which were promi- nent in Bergen. They had importance in understanding industrial history but also could be of high architectural merit. As an example, industrial monuments, built in the eighteenth century in connection with the international harbor activities, were a particular feature of the Sandviken identity but were not on the protection lists. Complete and well-preserved environments of cultural heritage value were also left out-environments that today are receiving more and more attention. New research and development of cultural heritage studies result in awareness of more types of sites needing protection. The ten- dency today is to shift from the protection of the objects to the man- agement of contexts, what might be designated "the historical cultural landscape." In the towns this shift presents a challenge: how to incorpo- rate this development in urban planning? Strategies for Preserving the Historic Identity of Bergen 55 Za~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Figure 3 VVorld Heritage Site Bryggen, - - ~ ~ e-u. .;. . .t.e..~~.... -. - Bergen's old harbor quarter. The living historic city is the object of pressures large and small. A major problem is traffic management. The Bergen city center is built on harbor infill. In some areas the infill is more than 8 meters thick. Not only are these deposits of great archaeological interest, but also they are badly suited as foundations for the heavy traffic of the modern city. The World Heritage Site of Bryggen is particularly endangered, and the major four- lane through-road in front of the site is exacerbating the situation. The narrow streets of the medieval city are unsuitable for modern vehicles. Air pollution from the traffic is also a cause for concern regarding the protection of the ornaments of the medieval stone churches. Parking on its own is a problem-neither a World Heritage Site nor historic church- yards are respected. New development of sites in the city center also can threaten the mon- uments when no respect is shown for the historical cultural landscape, or knowledge of its features is insufficient. As an example, new apart- ment buildings in the well-known "harbor warehouse style" are being built in the old town residential areas far from the harbor. Signs and posters, too, can damage the overall impression of the city, as can the many window replacements, roof terraces, and balconies added to the eighteenth-century wooden houses. These all are minor details, but, if left to develop on their own, they may cause larger areas to lose their identity and historical quality. To handle these pressures, the basis for planning and development must originate in knowledge of the historic city structure and the elements vital to the city's identity. Documentation of historic structures and incorporating their main features on an overall scale in planning should ensure development within the framework set by the city itself, and put a stop to the continuous conflicts between protection and large-scale urban development. In addition, planning should pay greater attention to 56 Sin Myrvoll _1~ L _ s_4 __ i ,t 'U _ . Figure 4. The Bergenhus castle and ban- quet hall built by King Hakon Hakonsson. the heritage context and less to the single object. The main goal should be protection of the historical cultural landscape, as this landscape con- stitutes the city's identity . How to ensure this? In addition to protection by the Cultural Heritage Act, larger areas in Norway may be protected through the Planning and Building Act, with special handling restrictions. The local development plans of the two medieval districts of Bryggen and Vagsbunnen are par- ticularly detailed in their protective clauses, but large areas of the city centers have similar statutes. However, the restrictions focus mainly on the protection of buildings and objects. The Heritage Management Office in Bergen has developed a better tool for urban planning along the lines suggested for Bergen, that is, based on context and identity rather than on single monuments. This new method presents the historic foundations for the urban development of a district through a Geographic Information System (GIS) map series for urban planners (figure 5). These maps comprise: 1. Early topography 2. Settlement structure 3. Communication lines 4. Special features and listed objects. These four elements are considered the important features of a district's character. Such maps are being developed for all master plans and will be components of the basic planning tools used in the Department of Urban Development for new development schemes (figure 6). The maps are available on the department's computer network with recommenda- tions from the Heritage Management Office on handling the various top- ics. Plans are then discussed, and heritage management plays an active Strotegies for Preserving the Historic Identity of Bergen 57 Figure 5. Heritage Management GIS map showing features and buildings protected by the Cultural Heritage Act (darker areas = automatically protected, that is, older than 1356; gray = younger features listed for protection). e 0?1 Figure 6. Heritage Management GIS map showing local development plans with protection clauses. 58 Sin Myrvoll Box 1. Heritage management and the sequencing of the planing process, Bergen * Establish planning program. * Consult Heritage Management Office. * Incorporate cost of heritage planning in total planing budget. * Heritage Management Office engages consultant; documents and writes up the planning area. * Transfer results to GIS (ARCVIEW). * Produce report with Heritage Management Office recommendations. * Transfer heritage charts on files to the local server as "look-up charts" available to the Planning Office. * Develop final plan. Consult Heritage Management Office on details. * Present final plan for political approval. part in the planning process from start to finish. In this manner we hope to achieve modern urban development with integrated heritage man- agement (box 1). The main heritage challenges in a historic urban center are to protect its historic identity and maintain the quality of the centuries-long tradi- tions, while promoting and strengthening the living city. The goal for Bergen is to present the town to the visitor and to its citizens as Bergen, not as just "any other town"! - Protecting Architectural Heritage in Expanding Metropol ises hat is preservation? To begin with, it is a natural part Michael Sorkin of city life, a consequence of the general process of 11 1 | | urban respiration. The built environment comes and Michael Sorkin is an architect and author * U U ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~working in Ndew York, sorkin@thing-net, V Y " goes: some parts stay, others vanish. We are all con- http://www.thing.net/-sorkin tinuously modifying our environments under a wide variety of influences, from the tremendous sway of technology and cul- ture to the intimate particulars of our own fortunes and families. The modes of construction that characterize our environments impart to each work of architecture a kind of half-life. Whether we are homeown- ers or tenants, builders, or official guardians of the civic weal, we are con- stantly confronted with occasions and opportunities both to respond to and to regulate the life cycles of the buildings we inhabit. This quotidian stewardship is more than mere maintenance-quite different conceptual- ly, although not necessarily technically. What distinguishes preservation from maintenance is a special supplement of value, something beyond the everyday necessity of ensuring the safety and integrity of a structure. That value is cultural. Preservation is always an investigation into a sys- tem of beliefs and desires. As an artifact of democratic culture (or of some form of structured decisionmaking), preservation imparts construc- tion with the value of consent. The self-identities of societies that pre- serve are bound up not simply with the appearances of the structures they produce but with the process by which they agree on what is to be saved, what modified, and what destroyed. Authenticity Where do these values originate? Preservation always engages the idea of authenticity. While this is a highly vexed concept, and often used as a 59 60 Michael Sorkin cudgel, it has special resonance and accessibility in environments that have been continuously inhabited. Such architectural authenticity is deeply coded in its parent societies in a raft of practices and procedures that constitute the legibilities of indigenous strategies of building. Just as important as architectural authenticity, however, is socialauthen- ticity, the pattern of life as lived, the ecology of living. A society defines its own values via the reverence and respect it accords to different styles and formats for living. Historical authenticity flows from this fit between form and life and from the exigent protection that culture accords it. Any other definition is too dry, too artificial, too alienated from the arts of living. Historical authenticity always entails a vector of witness. This is the notion that the walls do, in effect, have ears and eyes and have over- looked and heard the events great and small that characterize the par- ticularities of their parent cultures. Finally, the more purely phenomenal strain of authenticity is much hard- er to codify. We know our cities and places by their moods, by an ineffa- ble set of phenomena that cannot easily be characterized but that we lose at our great peril. These are characteristics that escape quantifica- tion, that are simply unreproducible by deliberate means, that can be retained only if larger cultural continuities survive. Thus, a mood that we would preserve in its originating setting demands that the compass of preservation be far broader than the limited context of structure or district. Preservation begs the question of ecology, the skein of global interdependencies that knit systems together. A sustain- able idea of preservation demands that we take a nuanced view of the larger settings in which the objects of our immediate attention sit. Preservation and Its Simulacrum There is a little parking lot not far from my studio in Tribeca in lower Manhattan (figure 1). Several years ago it was swarming with workers who were busy constructing two "historic" buildings. The two buildings looked very nice indeed and fit very well into the surrounding context. They were of a scale and level of detail that is rarely built in New York anymore, the kinds of buildings that the neighborhood would seem to need. But on closer inspection they turn out to be no more than facades, stage-sets (figure 2). Who but Hollywood could have been responsible? For weeks the neigh- borhood had been papered with posters apologizing for the inconven- ience the filmmaking might entail. The flyers also explained the reason for the construction of the two preternaturally authentic looking "build- ings." The set was to house the key scene in a film: the meeting between waitress Bridget Fonda and policeman Nicholas Cage. The brochures Protecting Architectural Heritage in Expanding Metropolises 61 - U -L Figure 1. A parking lot in Tribeca in lower - - _ - ~Manhattani in New York City before ron- struction of two "historic structures. claimed that location scouts had scoured the entire city looking for a suitable luncheonette in which to shoot the scene but were unable to come up with a single site that satisfied their requirements for "authen- ticity." Hence the decision to build the simulacrum, more "authentic" than any of the available realities. The point I am making is not exactly fresh but it is no less problematic for its familiarity. As culture is increasingly globalized and the architectural forms of authenticity become ever more easy to manipulate and reproduce, we risk a condition of general architectural mendacity. The onslaught of Disneyfication-building Ludwig's Castle or the Alhambra in Tokyo or Orlando-is the condition of world architecture today because doing so is possible and popular. If nothing else, this trend sets the terms of the debate. While there is nothing wrong per se with the creation of spaces of fan- tasy and entertainment, the phenomenon does pose real risks to the idea of preservation. The risks center on two issues. First, the corruption of the aura of genuine authenticity puts a great strain on its retention. If we cannot tell the difference, if the environment lies to us, the task of pre- serving it becomes both impossible and trivial. Ironically, a second question concerns innovation. The best defense of an authentic historic architecture is the complement of an authentic con- temporary architecture. However, if all space-making is caught in a matrix of simulation, then neither old nor new can enjoy the freedom of 62 Michael Sorkin Figure 2. The "buildings" constructed for a movie background. its own space. Ultimately, the peril of the Disney effect is that we become actors rather than citizens, pretending to be part of an environment that simply fools us into thinking it is real. Of course, much superb historic architecture has long since left the cir- cumstances of meaning responsible for its original invention. Obviously, it is ludicrous to try to "preserve" traditional societies to preserve tradi- tional architectures. However, we must engage in a continuous process of judgment, of selecting what is best in our social lives and in the set- tings we create for them. Given the constant pressure of change, preser- vation always entails a choice. It marks our values. From the viewpoint of urban and architectural preservation, a useful con- cept-a type of value-is that of climax. This sense of climax describes a state of ecological perfection, for example, a forest that, like the great west- ern stands of redwoods, has reached a final stage of growth and entered a condition of homeostasis. Such grand sustainability-that of a self-regulat- ing, essentially closed system carrying on forever-is a powerful model for judging the achievements of architectural and urban form. This model is particularly important to cities because of their fundamen- tally dynamic character. Recognition of climax forms becomes a crucial means of regulating and stabilizing the engine of growth, of asserting the character of the genius loci, and of organizing structures of social Protecting Architectural Heritoge in Expanding Metropolises 63 consent in the environment. The idea of climax is also a very direct way of engaging the issue of authenticity. If one were to speak of climax forms in New York City, some of the archi- tectural expressions that come to mind are the rows of nineteenth-cen- tury brownstone houses or the set-back skyscrapers of Wall Street. One also thinks about the characteristic ways in which buildings interact with parks and other open spaces. The long walls of buildings that ring Central Park or the more sinewy line along Riverside Park are typical architec- tural responses to a valued landscape and to the possibilities for the long view. Every great city produces its special forms, from the Georgian squares of central London to the labyrinthine Medina of Fez. All of these represent social compacts made into form. In the United States the idea of preservation has emerged as perhaps the strongest value in city planning in general. This trend is a recognition of the sorry record of modernist urbanism's respect for the past and its pathologiz- ing of the city as well as, conversely, its own failures to produce an environ- ment of delight comparable to the best of our historic urbanisms. Because of these oppositional origins, the rise of American preservationism continues to be structured as an essentially adversarial process in which gov- ernment or private developer initiatives are fought by citizens with the power to say no, whether to the highways, "urban renewal", or the demoli- tion of beloved old buildings that have so often deeply threatened private happiness. The demolition of Penn Station is widely regarded as a local turn- ing point. While this adversarial process has resulted in many important vic- tories, the system has left the city badly bereft of new ideas. As a result, we New Yorkers live in a city that is extremely timid about any physical planning that does not fit some historic model or that seems to have too much reach. Because we cannot agree on any contemporary forms, preservationism has become not simply an address to the past but the main mode of inventing the future. This tactic itself threatens the authenticity of the past by submerging it in a sea of forms that are sim- ply copied soullessly from old models, deforming their context to strip them of their last vestiges of aura. As sprawl and hypergrowth relegate historic cities to statistical and literal margins, a more creative approach is demanded. A project that we did a few years ago concerned, among other things, centers, which I believe are critical to the legibility, functionality, and conviviality of cities. The project is in East New York, way out in Brooklyn and far from the center of town. The neighborhood both sits on one the city's margins and offers a home to the marginalized. East New York is a very poor neighborhood and a museum of virtually every failed modernist social housing typology. 64 Michoel Sorkin But East New York has two tremendous resources. The first is an engaged and activated community with a network of self-help and political organi- zations. The second is a great abundance of vacant land owned by the municipality. These two assets, it struck us, might be used to leverage a dra- matic transformation in the neighborhood. But what sort of transformation might this be, given the essentially unsatisfactory character of both the existing neighborhood-gapped, decrepit, and without legible central places-and of the variety of solutions proposed down the years? The most common solution in the United States today is the preservation- ist-inspired "new urbanism." These architects-very much in the ascendan- cy at the moment-would suggest an appeal to precedented form, to some version of a theory of original intent, a neo-conservative holy writ. For them the keys would be to rebuild "original" densities and forms, a recreation of the putatively superior physical relationships of past years (with the hoary presumption that happy social relations would follow). But what actually were the original intentions of the builders of East New York? To locate the poor far from the city center? To provide a vast reserve of substandard, over-crowded housing? To offer the absolute minimal lev- els of amenities and public space? These are clearly historical intentions that deserve no reverence, never mind reproduction. While there are cru- cial social ecologies to nurture and preserve, the importation of pre-pack- aged nostalgia for a halcyon past that never was is a formula for myopia and disaster. A more critical approach seems to be in order. But how to begin? Architecture comes from either memory or invention. These are by no means mutually exclusive. I am an advocate of starting from scratch conceptually, rather than radically hemming in possibilities from the start. It is always easier to draw back than to take a great leap, and one wants the benefits of both freedom and constraint when operating in the urban context. We begin, then, by sweeping the imaginative decks clean while at the same time preserving what is already built and established. In a very conceptual sketch of the project one can see a new kind of for- mal energy as it begins to swim about the neighborhood. Although abstract, certain patterns should be legible: first, the preservation of existing buildings without exception, and second, a dramatic increase in green space and blue space. The second point is inspired both by a broad- er vision of what the good city ought to be like in terms of its balance of built and green spaces (and by a dramatic dearth of such spaces in East New York) and by existing community enthusiasm for urban agriculture. This is a community in which there is already some farming on behalf of the homeless. Protecting Architectural Heritage in Expanding Metropolises 65 Figure 3. Step One: ------- "Pl~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Tant a Tree in the Street. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~mE Q0A _ t . v i P'~~~~~~~i Xi 2. 3> :~~~~~~ i- | _u !> 1|J4 -~~~~~~~~~~ -.~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~~A p~~~~~~~~~~~~~~pr 'V~~~~~~~~U f~~~~~~~~~ a~~~~~ F r A l o a e o h n u c p n t p t s o e y e ig a c l t n e i u c t Fiue4.ApanfrEatNwYoksownkcuucue onsNte patn'}>7 -dniy re vlae,rn onoiatdadtes d ra cnes Michoel Sorkin Given this mood of change, we wondered what might be the minimal inter- vention required to begin to leverage this transformation. We concluded that planting a single tree in the midst of an intersection might be a good begin- ning (figure 3). We anticipated several consequences. First, traffic would surely be calmed and pedestrian-oriented collateral means of circulation through the blocks might develop. Second, we imagined that in the lee of certain acupuncture points, a lower density, very green, texture of houses and gardens might grow up in a series of pockets (figure 4). Third, however, we thought, paradoxically perhaps, that the new low- density areas would force a consolidation of high-density, street-related activities in several compact new centers. One of the problems of East New York is its surfeit of street-space and its inability to form cogent and congenial central places. Although the scheme is in many ways a radical one, its ultimate effect is to reaffirm and to preserve the most funda- mental forms and values of urban life. The point is that strategies for preserving historic architecture and cities are locked in a dynamic with strategies of innovation. For either to suc- ceed, they must enjoy a productive symbiosis. If we treat preservation as the antidote to, or antithesis of, innovation, we will not simply deny our- selves the boon of new thinking about sustainability, technology, social life, and community. We also will run the risk that by losing its relevance to the living city, preservation itself will also lose its capacity to inspire and its power to contain our most precious memories. - At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects dvocating is easy; acting is difficult. This adage applies to Michael M. Cernea advocacy for historic city preservation. Moreover, when "act- ing" entails heavy financial investments, many soul-search- MihaelMCernea,anthropologistaond ing-or "how-to"-dilemrmas surface rapidly. the World Bank's senior odviser for social policy and is the recipient of international This chapter addresses some of these "how-to" questions that center on "ords for applied anthropology and public one theme: how to translate policy and conceptual support for historic city preservation into operational development programs.' This question may appear deceptively simple, but it raises complex issues of substance. Development projects pursue povertyreduction andemploymentcreation objectives. Integrating these objectives into patrimony preservation is not yet a beaten path. More specifically, this chapter explores how World Bank-assisted pro- grams address such substantive problems. Over the last several years Bank explicit statements of support for cultural heritage (CH) preserva- tion have become widely known. Less known, however, is what occurs on the ground, and how such assistance is provided. This chapter discusses some far-reaching strategy issues concerning development support to patrimony preservation, by examining several cases and project stories-real stories about real projects. The chapter attempts to distill some answers and nuggets of experience from craft- ing actual development projects that support patrimony preservation and management, while at the same time attempting to reduce poverty in historic cities, increase employment, and encourage small-business incu- bation. The specific projects analyzed are located in historic cities of countries in the Middle East and North Africa. Most of the cities are on the World Heritage List (WHL). 67 68 Michael M. Cernea Difficult technical, economic, and institutional questions have confront- ed the World Bank and the country governments in preparing and designing these projects. Specific questions include how to incorporate investments for preserving the cultural monuments of the past in proj- ects focused on triggering change and building for the future. The cultural component of each project discussed in depth represents an innovation, because each project design is virtually unprecedented in Bank assistance to the given country. Learning how these innovations emerged and how these path-opening projects were prepared and designed may offer new options and ideas for those involved in prepar- ing future assistance programs. Cultural Components or Stand-alone Culture Projects? Designing an investment in cultural heritage raises many new questions for country officials and World Bank specialists alike, because until recently this domain was little explored. One initial, but basic, strategy choice faced in project design is between two possible routes: 1. To design fully dedicated, self-standing culture supportspecial proj- ects, or 2. To exploit opportunities available within many regular projects financed in other sectors to incorporate mojor patrimony support project components in cross-sectoral development programs. Future projects will face this choice, and such strategic questions will recur. Linking patrimony preservation with regular programs in multiple other sectors of the economy differs significantly from interventions, usually small scale, that focus exclusively on restoring one or a few built struc- tures. The latter are very important too, but typically are limited to con- servation and/or repair works, have relatively limited financing, and can- not undertake broader institutional capacity building. Rarely have massive interventions for cultural heritage preservation and management been integrated in large-scale development programs within various other sec- tors of national economies. Therefore, integrating substantial heritage components as parts of larger cross-sectoral development programs, and using opportunities available in these programs-otherwise forgone-is an approach at the cutting edge of work in CH preservation. The stakes in its success are high, because it adds value, mobilizes additional financing for CH, multiplies impacts, and reduces costs of broad institutional support to CH. If this approach proves successful and is embraced on an increasingly large scale, the benefits to patrimony preservation primarily, and to devel- opment generally, will be considerable. At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects 69 The several interventions designed from 1996 to 2000 for Bank projects in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) are themselves important storehouses of accumulated knowledge about what can or cannot be done. They form a "menu of possibilities" that will enable future opera- tions to build on approaches that have undergone the exacting test of implementation. The requirement will be not to copy them mechanically but to select from the available options the one that fits best and re- tailor to the given country and sector. The following sections take stock of these "best practices." Undoubtedly, further work will bring addition- al design innovations responsive to country needs and circumstances. Two Routes Within the region both strategic project routes are being used.2 A large project in Tunisia has taken the fully dedicated project route. Projects in Jordan, Lebanon, and Morocco have taken the component route. The West Bank and Gaza Bethlehem 2000 project combines the two approaches. The range of sectors and project design options is: * Urban improvement option in the Morocco Fez Medina project * Tourism option in the Jordan Petra-Wadi Rum project * Post-conflict option in the Lebanon reconstruction project * Capacity creation and restoration option in the West Bank Bethlehem project * National program option in the Tunisia cultural heritage project under preparation. The component approach is able to capture the synergy among sectors resulting from cross-sectoriality, such as between urban development and cultural heritage, or between tourism development and heritage conservation. Cross-sectoral approaches are a powerful development tool. Moreover, when institutional capacity in the country's cultural sec- tor is weak, starting with a CH project component may prudently build capacity and models for subsequent larger, stand-alone operations. Also worthy of notice is what is being avoided: enclave-type projects, which would focus on only one or several isolated monuments taken individually from their context and outside intersectoral linkages and opportunities. When governments outside the Middle East and North Africa region have requested them, the Bank's Board of Directors has expressed reservations regarding enclave projects. A stronger institutional framework in the country's cultural sector justi- fies consideration of a full-fledged project. That is the case in Tunisia, where a large-scale preparatory study of the nation's built heritage, together with a strategy preparation effort, are underway, with support through Italian and Japanese donor grants and experts. This type of proj- ect requires more complex preparation, as will be shown later. 70 Michael M. Cermea Which specific project-design options have been chosen in the Bank's Middle East and North Africa Region so far? We have found an array of such options, which are described and analyzed individually below. Urban Development Option: Morocco Because the region's heritage assets are located primarily in urban set- tlements, links with urban infrastructure projects are indispensable. To date the Fez Medina Rehabilitation project is the centerpiece of efforts to explore the "space for linkage" between the two sectors. Valuable ele- ments also will be highlighted in the forthcoming Lebanon Cultural Heritage and Tourism Development project. Interestingly, at the pre-identification stage the Fez urban project started conventionally, with little intention to support heritage preservation and no consideration of how the Fez population itself regards the city's her- itage.3 Many technocratically inclined project planners perceived Fez Medina not as a resource, but rather as a bottleneck to modern urbanism. It lacked access roads for emergencies (ambulances, fire trucks, police) and adequate roads for services (garbage disposal, deliveries). Almost one- quarter of Fez el Bali was inaccessible by motorized vehicles, while other areas suffered badly from lack of parking. Heavily polluting industries nes- tled in the vicinity of dense residential areas caused health hazards, increased waste production, and deteriorated the housing stock.4 The engineering consulting company invited by the government and the World Bank to produce a project feasibility study submitted a technical design that proposed cutting large transportation crossroads through historic districts, thus demolishing valuable cultural assets. The proposed plan was generally insensitive to the cultural value of the Medina. In fact, some agencies in Morocco itself were so concerned with facility of access as to underestimate the importance of preserving historic build- ings. UNESCO, which in 1976 had placed Fez on the World Heritage List, communicated to the Bank its strong objections to the proposed techni- cal solutions (figure 1). The Bank examined and embraced UNESCO's objections and proposals. After considerable discussion among the Bank and relevant country agen- cies, the Bank and the Government of Morocco set aside the consultants' technical proposals, and began project preparation virtually anew based on different principles. The new principles put the cultural value of the Medina and the goal of reducing poverty among its inhabitants at the center of the project's new concept and design. The new approach, more refined both socially and technically, confronted head-on the problem of combining preservation with response to modern needs. In the process, it found trade-offs and original solutions. The result is the project design under implementation, to which UNESCO contributed and fully supports.' At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Potrimony Protection through Development Projects 71 -,VW~~~~~~i 5Ihizi~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ -E ~~~~~~~Figure 1. Fez Medina, Morocco. Reducing Urban Poverty The new design is characterized by a three-fold combination: it harmo- niously integrates (a) basic urban improvements (in roads, type of trans- portation, vehicles, and services) with (b) preservation and enhancement of historic assets and Medina's distinctive characteristics, both within (c) an urban program geared to reduce poverty and increase employment in the Medina, improve the quality of life, and make Fez more accessible to worldwide visitors. The poverty-reduction orientation of the Fez approach to cultural con- servation deserves special highlighting, even though only its key features can be outlined here. Fez Medina is not only a World Heritage celebrat- ed site. Foreign tourists are less aware-because they are not led to see it-that Fez is also a pocket of concentrated, abject mass poverty. The pre-project survey found that 52,700 people (36 percent of Fez Medina's population of 1 50,000 inhabitants) live below the poverty threshold.'This is a far higher proportion than Morocco's national poverty average for urban (10.4 percent) and rural (28.7 percent) inhabitants. Housing occu- pancy density in Fez Medina far exceeds acceptable levels, and half of the Medina housing stock is decayed. Targeting primarily the population living below poverty levels, the proj- ect will help create some 10,000 jobs over 1 5 years, channel benefits to artisan groups working in the Medina, and improve living standards through better communal services. Another poverty-reduction initiative under the Fez project is the organ- ization of emergency assistance to historic dwellings at high risk of col- lapsing, which are usually inhabited by the poorest people. A monitoring system relying on the inhabitants will promptly signal to project man- agement the buildings that start showing signs of imminent collapse. 72 Michoel M. Cemec This system enables project managers to intervene rapidly, taking action to reinforce the valuable building and thus protecting inhabitants' lives, the buildings themselves, and ultimately reducing reconstruction costs. Breaking New Ground in Project Processing Fez is the first large urban-cum-cultural-heritage project assisted by the World Bank in Morocco. In the process of making culturally informed technical choices, it has generated a host of non-routine solutions for its institutional, financing, and implementation arrangements (on financing and risks). The Fez project is similar to another Bank-assisted operation in an Asian historic city-the Lahore Urban Development Project in Pakistan7-and has benefited from the region's experience with an earli- er project in the Hafsia area of the Tunis Medina carried out in the 1980s (box 1). Yet it has much enriched the analytical methodologies and solu- tions employed in these earlier operations. Compared to average World Bank project processing standards, the Fez project was one of the most complicated and exacting to prepare. It involved breaking new ground in preparation work, and it had to incor- porate distinct, heritage-related, risk-reduction measures. Its institution- al and financial arrangements took a long time to negotiate with both the central government and the Fez municipalities, but produced ground-breaking local and centra] financing approaches, with high repli- cation likelihood. Bank managers and staff had to devote more than the usual effort to bring this project to implementation. They had to over- come conceptual and bureaucratic rigidities as well as the inexperience of national agencies with such innovative projects. For these reasons some Bank insiders consider it legitimate to ask: should the World Bank engage in such complex and time-intensive projects at all? Surely, pioneer projects take more time than average to prepare and process. Time pressures work against such projects. Yet if the Bank declined such projects, it not only would forgo new learning and fall back on misguided carbon-copy approaches to complex problems but also would fail to respond to country demands and needs. The decay of Fez had long represented a problem growing from bad to worse, despite Fez's placement on the WHL in 1976 and the internation- al safeguarding campaign launched by UNESCO in 1980. The campaign raised intellectual awareness about Fez but failed to generate the finan- cial support required for significant rehabilitation works. It is for this rea- son, and counting on the Bank's comparative advantage, that the Government of Morocco asked the Bank to help "break the long- standing deadlock which has deterred any comprehensive rehabilitation project in Fez"9 and requested a loan to finance the Fez project. During the next five years the Bank's intervention will help mobilize considerably more financial resources than have accrued to Fez over the almost 20 At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects 73 Box 1. Successful rehabilitation of Hafsia Tunis offers an early and successful exam- - - - pie of how to incorporate a historic city rehabilitation program as a component L- . into a "regular" urban development proj- - ect. The Tunisia Urban ill Development Project approved in 1982 (total cost = ep ..- - US$60 million) included a rehabilitation j component for the Hafsia Quarter i1 in the project rehabilitated valuable buildings ; and recreated the old covered souk, which organically re-connects the two parts of the old city. - The key questions raised at the Map of Hafsia Phases I and 11 .j Phase I * Phase 11 time, in the 1980s, were whether a second phase of this project would be able to do more than just promote a physical implant of a few new houses. The response over the past 10 years has been spectacular....The second phase has not only confounded the skeptics with its success; it also won the unique distinction of a second Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 1995 (figure 2). ...the Municipality of Tunis, the Association pour la Sauvegarde de la Medina (ASM) and the Agence de Rehabilitation et Renovation Urbaine (ARRU) have succeeded in reducing the high population densities in the old wekalas.... Rehabilitation of the structures through credit schemes has worked extremely well in all but the rent-controlled, non-owner occu- pied structures. The success of the project in 1995 in nudging the government to finally remove the rent control law effectively lifted the remaining obstacle to commercially financed rehabilitation of these non-owner occupied rental units. The second phase of the project, Hafsia II, is a financial, economic and institutional success. Cross-subsidies have made the project as a whole financially viable. Rates of return on pub- lic investment have been high. The multiplier effect of private to public funds has been of the order of three to one.' All of this has been accompanied by a sensitive treatment of the urban texture, and an integration of the old city with its surrounding metropolis! Ismail Serageldin, "Very Special Places: The Architecture and Economics of Intervening in Historic Cities," Culture Unit, Social Development Department, World Bank, Washington, D. C., 1999, 39-42. The results of the ex-post financial analysis of revitalization efforts at Hafsia are very encouraging. The over- all project was financially profitable, thanks largely to the revenue generated from land sales, housing, and shop sales by the project implementing agency (ARRU), despite relatively high resettlement costs. A study carried out by a Harvard University team found the internal rate of return (ex post) to be about 11 percent. 1 Harvard University Graduate School of Design 1994. 2 Harvard University GSD 1994. 74 MichaelM. Cernea Figure 2. Hafsia Quarter 11, Tunis: new housing design respects the scale, materi- als, and uses of the public space of the existing urban historic fabric. years since it was placed on the WHL. The Government of Morocco also relies on the Bank's comparative advantage in promoting interagency donor coordination and mobilizing supplementary grant aid over and above the borrowed financing. What lessons, if any, can be derived from the strenuous efforts to pre- pare and process this project? Before Fez the World Bank had not thought through solutions to techni- cal and cultural problems in typical Medina contexts. Therefore, it had to pay a price in time to learn how to avoid known and unknown pitfalls. Nevertheless, it succeeded in breaking the "long-standing deadlock" in Fez. The process that led to the project's final content yielded wider pol- icy and strategy lessons about how to deliberately link cultural heritage preservation to mainstream urban development programs The valuable messages of the Fez project experience, so far, are: * Cultural heritage conservation and rehabilitation within large urban infrastructure renewal projects are a valid project design opportuni- ty. Conservation and infrastructure renewal are both feasible within the same development project. * Modernization of urban standards and upgrading of infrastructure in old cities, however important, is not a license for insensitive and wholesale "clearing" and sacrificing of historic areas. * Infrastructure that is technically appropriate to cultural and topo- graphical requirements can be creatively designed to make modern At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects 75 amenities compatible with the retention and preservation of the original social fabric. Urban mechanical equipment if being custom- manufactured for Fez. * Projects such as Fez that combine the objectives of the urban and cultural sectors can offer additional routes to reach basic economic development goals: poverty reduction and additional employment generation. They significantly enhance the effectiveness of develop- ment investments. * Addressing the urban built heritage as a coherent continuum within its social context can prevent the pitfalls of "monumentalism" at the expense of the surrounding socio-cultural fabric. * Not every urban development project in an old town must contain major cultural heritage preservation components. But when opportu- nities exist, failing to exploit intersectoral synergy between infra- structure and culture foregoes important benefits. * Projects that link the urban and culture sectors tend to require more preparation time than conventional urban projects. They demand coor- dination among sets of institutions. Accumulated lessons may opti- mize the "critical path" for future preparation of comparable projects. Lessons from Fez are being transferred to other Bank-assisted projects. In Lebanon, for instance, the historic towns of Saida, Tripoli, and Tyre (a recently declared World Heritage site), will be assisted under an urban/tourism development project, in which culturally sensitive urban infrastructural improvements will receive project support (see below). In Yemen studies initiated to conserve vernacular architecture in historic cities follow the same principles as in the Fez project. In Morocco itself, given the country's large number of historic Medinas, the Fez Medina project may become the forerunner of a line of urban/cultural interventions with great benefits for the country's poor and the general population, and with rewards for the global community. In fact the Government of Morocco has requested the World Bank to provide technical and financial assistance for a new urban-cum-cultural heritage project in the historic city of Pleknes. Urban sector projects have considerable potential to enhance the preser- vation of built heritage even when they do not manifestly include cultur- al heritage components. This can be called the "indirect support" poten- tial inherent in urban projects (see last section of this chapter). Tourism Options: Jordan Because of the inherent link between major heritage assets and eco- nomically thriving tourism, projects in the tourism sector provide anoth- er set of options for incorporating cultural components. The World Bank's 1978 decision to cease lending for tourism'0-a deci- sion that some questioned even at the time-has been fully reversed in 76 Michoel M. Cerneo recent years. Nonetheless, the 1978 decision resulted in a long hiatus in the Bank's financial support for the budding tourist sector in North Africa and the Middle East. The Bank's support for culture and cultural tourism during almost two decades also was negatively affected and limited. In Jordan the 1997 Second Tourism Project reversed the 20-year hiatus that followed the first Bank-assisted tourism project in Jordan (1976). During those 2 decades the Bank financed 4 urban development projects in Jordan, providing loans totaling more than $105 million. However, none contained substantial and explicit heritage-oriented provisions. With hindsight it can be said that important patrimony support oppor- tunities were missed in these four projects due to inattention to cultur- al heritage. The new project started from three basic premises: (1) tourism is Jordan's second largest source of foreign exchange revenues; (2) the main moti- vation for tourism to Jordan is the country's heritage and ecological sites, not its limited beaches; and (3) the peace process opened up vast addi- tional tourism potential and cultural opportunities. Capturing these opportunities would require Jordan to develop the tourism sector in a sustainable and multifaceted manner across the country, which implied simultaneously improving the maintenance and management of the cul- tural patrimony. Integrating Tourism with Support to Heritage How does the Jordan project employ its options to incorporate support for heritage conservation in the design of a tourist operation? Tourists come to Jordan (1.1 million in 1996) primarily to visit Petra, a World Heritage Site (figure 3); Jerash; and Karak. Increasing tourist flows, how- ever, entails hazards as well as benefits. Predicating tourism growth on intensified visitation of heritage sites demanded safeguards against risks to patrimony assets. The criteria applied by the project team were: * Enhancing the sustainability of heritage sites through the formula- tion of a coherent tourism and cultural strategy * Selectivity (identifying the most promising sites among multiple choices) * Integrating heritage in contextual community development by build- ing in incentives for the local population to protect the heritage * Balanced management of tourist flows over valuable heritage spaces to prevent excesses over carrying capacity * Maximizing local and overall benefits from limited investments. The project team was struck by the discrepancy between how much Jordan had to offer for tourism and the absence of a coherent tourism At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects 77 strategy." Foremost on the minds of the project team was combining Figure 3 The famous temple carved development with heritage sGfeguarding; that is, ensuring long-term sus- Pnetora,Jokagreatrtumrest"attroctkion tainability that responds to cultural, environmental, and physical criteria. The 1997 Bank-assisted tourism project, specifically its Petra component, set as its goal to address the problems highlighted by UNESCO's 1994-95 study concerning overcrowding at the Petra Sanctuary and the need for access-management plans. Other problems identified by UNESCO in the archeological sanctuary, such as uncontrolled urbanization and asset management deficiencies, are also explicitly addressed in the Jordan Second Tourism Project. In particular the project report emphasized the need to preempt the increased risks to heritage from expected growth in tourist flows. Without specific consideration of "carrying capacity" issues at cultural heritage sites, excessively increased tourists flows could harm heritage preservation. The tourism project also finances infrastructure works convergent with the project's objectives. Among these are a 60-kilometer road rehabilita- tion effort in the Petra region and on urban spine roads, Wadi Musa town center improvements, flood control measures, urban regeneration provisions, land-use planning, and solid-waste management. Each of these components is capable not only of providing additional (direct or indirect) protection to the monuments and improving the experience of tourists, but also of creating new employment and improving the quali- ty of life of the local population. 78 Michoel M Cerneo Tourism Diversification: Rehabilitating New Sites Characteristic of this project's approach, and relevant to its replication value is the sense of balance and discerning selectivity with which it made investment choices among the many sites in need of assistance. To maxi- mize investments for the sake of both tourism and culture, the project seeks to bring into the circuit previously neglected heritage sites. Jordan's towns and villages with potential for heritage tourism have been unevenly treated in the past; choosing among them was not sim- ple. The project's files reflect that many sites were considered for invest- ments, including Azrak, Qasr Amra, Qasr El-Hallabat, Pella, Hemmeh, vil- lages at the Dead Sea, Wadi Rum, Jerash, Mount Nebo, Karak, Madabe, Aqaba, Um Qais, and Petra. After carefully pondering alternatives, the project team made some unconventional decisions and selected two sites-Petra and Wadi Rum- for immediate project investments. Giving priority to Wadi Rum over other, far better known tourist destinations was an unusual, but well- reasoned, decision. Two additional sites (Jerash and Karak) were selected for a pilot program and for carrying out feasibility studies toward future project preparation. Thus, the foundations for subsequent longer-term projects were laid during the initial phase. By selecting the relatively small Wadi Rum site, along with well-known historic Petra, the project enables Jordanian authorities to experiment simultaneously on two models for the cultural heritage sector. On the one hand it can concentrate investments on a major site of world fame to realize its full potential and enhance its sustainability. On the other hand it can bring into the universal circuit several other of Jordan's less known, small- and medium-level sites, of which Wadi Rum is typical. This second model carves out room for grassroots entrepreneurial initia- tives, channeling economic and social benefits to the inhabitants of areas surrounding the lesser known sites. Wadi Rum's selection is also justified by its location close to Aqaba, Jordan's main site for non-her- itage tourism. The project will make Wadi Rum more attractive to inter- national tourists and in time will add a cultural dimension to what now is primarily beach tourism in the area. Post-Conflict Reconstruction Option: Lebanon The validity of the Jordan tourism-cum-heritage option is being tested during its implementation. Already a new urban project under advanced preparation in the Middle East, the Lebanon Cultural Heritage and Tourism Development project, finds considerable inspiration in the Jordan project. At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects 79 Post-conflict reconstruction creates opportunities for either (a) incorpo- rating CH components in various investments required by reconstruction in all domains, or (b) consolidating CH activities in a unified project, addressing only the built heritage. Conventional wisdom has held that post-war immediate needs are so many and pressing, and resources so stretched, that hardly any attention can be paid to culture and heritage. Lebanon proves this conventional wisdom wrong. Decisionmakers with vision-as opposed to those with blinkers-tend to take a long-term, macroeconomic view to reconstruc- tion, and program it to endure for future generations." Reconstruction of urban or transportation infrastructure after the calamities of war and civil war requires distributive and technical deci- sions concerning areas that may host enormously important heritage. Ignoring heritage is a sure recipe for making the wrong reconstruction decisions, soon to be regretted and challenged for what they overlooked or the damage they inflicted. Therefore, post-war reconstruction, indis- pensable in any case, also must be seen as an opportunity to address intrinsic heritage preservation needs in the respective areas. Modernization and Respect for History This rationale is embodied in the request of the Government of Lebanon to the Bank to provide assistance for a major reconstruction effort that would explicitly include, not avoid, heritage preservation investments. This ration- ale could be seen as valid for other countries in comparable situations. Certainly, the reconstruction of Lebanon is advancing on a much larger scale than can be covered by the upcoming Bank-financed project. The project will concentrate on several urban segments that heavily involve precious heritage rehabilitation. This orientation also is expected to increase financial resources, as the Bank's involvement is likely to cat- alyze financing from other donors for cultural heritage rehabilitation. Lebanon's government aims to turn the pressing need to repair conflict- caused destruction to towns into an opportunity to modernize Lebanon's urban centers, their major routes, equipment, and services. But this mod- ernization is guided by a strong respect for history and heritage. The approach is to reconstruct in such a way as to create better architecton- ic contexts for the historic buildings. The challenge of the project is to underscore the cultural value of the urban patrimony, while enhancing its economic potential. Specifically, the Lebanon Cultural Heritage and Tourism Development project will provide direct support for the rehabilitation of such major archeological sites and cultural assets as: the Imperial City of Tyre (on 80 Mic,aed M. Cerreco the WHL), the Sea Castle in Saida, the Citadel St. Gilles, the Old Town and the Tawba mosque in Tripoli, and the Temples and the Umayyad Mosque in Baalbeck. Work will also take place in the city of Baalbeck, which is on the WHL. A Development- Oren ted Perspective The development perspective taken during project planning assumes that the rehabilitated sites will help revive Lebanon's status as a major tourist destination, lost during long years of conflict. The heritage sites are not treated as enclaves but are integrated in the surrounding urban socioe- conomic fabric, with consideration of population flow patterns, traffic, hotels, and mix of commercial and social activities. The anticipated ben- efits from tourism, which, given the locations' dismal states, otherwise would be largely forgone, would go a long way toward recovering the project's investments. The salvaged and enhanced spiritual and educa- tional value of the heritage thus would be virtually "free of charge." Overall, the project includes a balanced combination of historic building rehabilitation, regeneration of old town centers (Saida and Tripoli), con- servation of archaeological sites, construction of visitors' centers (in four locations), and improvements in urban services infrastructure. In addition, and with a view to future CH needs, the project will budget technical assistance for further planning and the formulation of a national heritage preservation strategy. This strategy will lead to the next stages of heritage protection, and possibly to a master plan or national program for cultural heritage preservation and management in Lebanon. Certainly, as development perspectives improve for other post-conflict countries-such as Algeria, Iran, and Yemen-the Lebanon experience will offer a valuable body of knowledge that can be adjusted to the circum- stances of these countries (figure 4). Restoration and Capacity Building Option: West Bank The West Bank and Gaza Bethlehem 2000 project embodies a distinct experience with heritage management. The project convincingly shows how the World Bank can help build institutional and management capac- ityin the culturalsector from the ground up. To one or another degree, as emphasized in prior sections, institutional strengthening is a feature of every Bank-assisted project. Yet the West Bank Bethlehem case is emblematic. The project came about in response to an urgent local and international call: a request to the World Bank from the Palestinian Authority (PA) of West Bank and Gaza and the international community at large to take a leading role in preparing Bethlehem and its surroundings for the Millennium celebrations. The project was prepared and appraised in At the Cutting Edge: Culturol Pctrimony Protection through Development Projects 81 A-~ ~ 'r record time, and embodies an extraordinary model of Bank partnership Figure 4. Sana'a, Yemen: the multi-story, highly decorated houses are well-known and cooperation with the Palestinian Authority, UNESCO, the Vatican, the architectural heritage and the subject of Government of Italy and other governments, and various universities and numerous studies and preservation efforts. scholars directly interested in this unique task. Institutional Challenges From the start institutional capacity building emerged as the project's make or break challenge-more difficult by far than the civil works required in the project. The incipient municipal structures were far too fragile to undertake the task and required time to mature. The "Bethlehem 2000 Steering Committee," initially established by the PA to prepare for the celebration, was encountering major problems of its own and soon had to be replaced. Furthermore, no other bilateral or international donor was prepared to confront the institution-building challenges. UNESCO was ready to pro- vide technical and artistic advice for rehabilitation works, but could not offer the institution building and vast financial support needed. Some donors declared willingness to provide grants for individual infrastructure and cultural components, yet none was in a position to integrate the immediate work with the West Bank's long-term program. In short, the institutional bottleneck was such that the entire effort could be stillborn, or limited to bricks and mortar. 82 Michael M. Cernea The key question was how to turn the preparations for this one-time event into an opportunity to address long-term development needs? The World Bank emerged as the agency best placed to help the PA to capi- talize on this short-duration project for the long term; to establish the institutional, financial, and programmatic framework needed immediate- ly for the celebration. All participants clearly recognized that the celebration, while religious in content, had strategic development potential for the West Bank's cultur- al and tourism sectors. At stake in this project were major cultural preservation issues with which the Bank was relatively inexperienced, and risksaepolitical, economic, and technical. These risks were increased by the request to complete the project very quickly. Five alternatives were considered. They ranged from a "minimalist" sce- nario, with a narrow focus on infrastructure rehabilitation only, to the "maximalist" case, incorporating long-term tourism and private-sector development. Given the significance of the occasion, the former was clearly insufficient. The maximalist option was clearly beyond local capacity and the Bank's own capacity to prepare a maximum-scenario project, given budget and staff constraints. An alternative between the two extremes, based on needs and realistic feasibility, was called for. The final Bethlehem 2000 project, at a total cost of some US$100 mil- lion, allocated unusually high funding (40 percent) to institutional and capacity building support, plus technical assistance. The allocation included direct assistance to area municipalities (mainly for reforming their managerial, financial, and accounting systems and undertaking studies), the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, and the Ministry of Culture (for developing a cultural heritage preservation policy and a cor- responding legal framework). The intensive infrastructure and heritage rehabilitation component received the remaining 60 percent of the Bank funding. This consists of essential infrastructure and adaptive reuse of historical cores of Bethlehem, Beit Jala, and Beit Sahor. The project will also improve serv- ices: drains, water, sewerage, and parking. Estimates of potential visitors to the Holy Land for the Millennium cele- brations in the year 2000 ranged as high as 4 million people. These visi- tors also will temporarily benefit from the improved capacities. Therefore, in the most direct sense, the Bethlehem 2000 project is a cul- tural service to the world, not only to the borrower. Closer to home, the target for poverty-reduction goals is the 100,000 persons in the larger Bethlehem area. The local population will benefit directly from investments in civil works, artisanal production, and busi- nesses servicing tourists. At the Cutting Edge: Culturol Potrimnony Protection through Development Projects 83 The ongoing Bethlehem project puts the Bank's pivotal role in capacity creation to an exacting test. The implementation experience of the tight three-year execution period is being closely monitored. While the PA will emerge from the project with a higher institutional capacity platform on which to build, the Bank is positioned to gain unique experiences in emergency response to major heritage preservation demands. National Program Option: Tunisia Including cultural components in projects in traditional economic sectors is not the only way to support CH preservation. The other option is full- scale projects dedicated primarily to culture-sector activities. Distinct from the approaches taken so far in Morocco, Jordan, Lebanon, and the West Bank the national cultural heritage project under prepara- tion in Tunisia pursues an option not yet selected in any other Bank-assist- ed project. It consists of developing a comprehensive countrywide strate- gyfor cultural heritage preservation and building capacity for a long-term master plan, with step-by-step activities consistent with one another. In this sector master plans will have to be revised and adapted to emerging needs, new demands from related sectors (international tourism), and resource inflows. Therefore, one objective is to cultivate Tunisian in-house competence to monitor and understand international markets and respond adequately. The Tunisia Cultural Heritage Management and Development Project now under preparation is the vehicle for generating such a master plan. This special stand-alone project is obviously a more ambitious option than those taken in other projects. However Tunisia has better institutional capacity in this sector than many other countries. The primary reason for adopting this challenging option was the govern- ment's preference. Tunisia, the Bank was told, has a long and mixed expe- rience with piecemeal donor support for one or another of its historic monuments. The Government of Tunisia felt it to be in the best interest of the country to take stock and get a comprehensive view of the heritage domain. It wanted to ascertain its strength and potentials; identify its weaknesses and short- and long-term needs; develop a national invento- ry of its assets; and-based on all this-formulate a coherent, long-term strategy for heritage preservation. The Bank agreed, and Japan and Italy offered grants to cover the costs of preparing the national project. Tunisia has a high density of heritage sites countrywide, and faces two common, yet major, problems: (1) accelerated degradation and (2) inad- equate capture of the patrimony's vast economic potential. Degradation is due to well-known natural, economic, and social causes: weathering, economic and technological change, pressure for land, under-financing, population growth, theft, limited community involvement, and little 84 P/lichoeI M Cernec private-sector support. Tourism has only partially helped to harvest the patrimony's economic value. Because tourism in Tunisia is oriented main- ly toward coastal destinations, opportunities for cultural tourism remain severely underused. Moreover, per capita tourism revenues have been relatively stagnant or even decreasing. The government indicated to the Bank that it wished to reorient its strategy and encourage higher-value cultural tourism. Need to Prioritize and Sequence The tasks of a countrywide, heritage-focused project are daunting. It must cover a multitude of sites, respond to a wide range of needs, and balance a broad spectrum of complex issues. Therefore, the preparation team was asked to follow a two-fold orientation: (1) to place first on the agenda sector-wide issues that would impact most individual activities, and (2) to pursue a set of immediate "results on the ground" that would demonstrate effectiveness, create momentum, and evolve into models replicable through the longer-term strategy." The strategy, now at an advanced stage of preparation, defines three pri- mary goals: institutional capacity building, private-sector mobilization, and improved conservation technologies and management approaches. To achieve convincing "results on the ground" early in the project, the preparation team identified eight priority sites for immediate conserva- tion and management activities. These are expected to pilot and confirm the strategy. Work on the selected sites should provide the operational opportunities to strengthen institutional capacity.4 Criteria for selecting, prioritizing, and sequencing work on the eight cultural sites were devised. Each selected site would enable the project to confront another critical issue and test the response to it. Worth highlighting also is that the approach taken offers great flexibility to the government and the Bank as to the final content of the investment project (or projects) that will result from the preparation. The feasibility studies have yielded a comprehensive, although preliminary, countrywide report covering multiple possible actions.5 Yet the countrywide coverage of the preparation study does not compel a countrywide coverage through the immediately resulting investment project Resources and capacities for tackling everything at once do not exist. Comprehensive preparation allows ranking of priorities and less urgent tasks. It facilitates sequencing investments in time and space. The final definition of the project will therefore be able to plan for several phases over a longer period. The challenge will be to select those activities that address CH priorities and contribute most effectively to poverty reduc- tion and employment generation. Financing will also be easier. The avail- ability of a coherent national master plan will enable the government At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Patrimony Protection through Development Projects 85 and the Bank to mobilize soft financial support from other donors. Donor agencies are much more likely to respond to the appeal and needs of a master plan than to piecemeal requests. A comparable comprehensive approach was taken in Yemen for the preparation of a national cultural heritage project encompassing Yemen's three historic cities on the World Monuments List (figure 5). Yet in this case the route taken did not prove to be the most promising. It soon became obvious that, given the very weak existing institutions- whose capacity could not be improved quickly enough-a countrywide project would be overextended. The project preparation process was thus redirected in midstream toward first preparing a country strategy paper, an in-depth institutional diagnosis, and a heritage inventory. (The inven- tory is financed by an Italian grant, while the Bank provides implemen- tation management and non-lending assistance.) This experience rein- forced the lesson that implementing countrywide programs through stand-alone projects can be undertaken realistically only when existing conditions are favorable (figure 6). Indirect Support to Patrimony Safeguarding All of the options examined in the sections above involved CH-support activities that required World Bank financing. Yet some types of Bank- assisted projects in MENA, particularly urban sector infrastructure proj- ects, have considerable potential to help in the preservation and sus- tainability of the built heritage even when they do not explicitly include cultural heritage components. The study that I conducted of cultural her- itage programs in the Plena region concludes that this potential must be used by the Bank more systematically. Obviously, the way in which general infrastructure upgrading in old towns is carried out affects-directly and indirectly, positively or adversely-the f M built heritage. The spectacular mud-brick buildings of Sana'a and Shibam, _ for instance, were constructed on dry soils, for very limited and controlled F P 1 U in-house water husbandry. In recent decades the advent of piped water exposes such historic buildings to new and severe risks, such as inade- quate equipment for public water supply, anarchic behavior by inhabitants !,%' . prone to making haphazard connections through uninsulated walls, and uninformed and careless in-house water management. These all result in water leaks, seepage, cracked walls, destabilized foundations, and ulti- mately collapsed historic buildings. Normal municipal services projects can do a great deal to arrest such damaging factors of CH destruction. Traditional urban settlements across the Middle East and North African countries suffer from typical infrastructure and service deficiencies that facade s risemup:to nic hlfors.Thetall sap the durability of many historic buildings. The most frequent dys- buildings of Old Sana'a are built exclu- sively from hewn natural stones and functionalities are: baked clay bricks. 86 Michael M. Cernea * Water supply: defective systems, insufficient capacity, leaking pipes * Drainage systems: absent or dysfunctional * Sewerage: systems open to the surface * Streets: unpaved, become mudholes and disease-breeding pools in rainy months * Garbage disposal system: absent or insufficient, resulting in garbage accumulation * Housing stocks: deteriorating * Land tenure: complexities and uncertainties over ownership of land and structures hamper infrastructure improvement and maintenance. When urban infrastructure works undertaken to address these problems (under domestic or international aid programs) are designed with cultur- al sensitivity and heritage awareness, their contribution to CH preserva- tion can be long-lasting even if they do not invest explicitly in historic building restoration. The contribution is often modest, but it is real. This spillover effect often is a matter of how the project area is determined. Frequently, it is possible to select some locations in which defective or absent infrastructure systems, such as a routine water supply or drainage project, also put heritage buildings at risk of collapsing. The beneficial impacts of the same investment for one project can thus be multiplied. Such preferential selection presupposes awareness of existing heritage at risk, and may involve minor trade-offs. However, if such awareness is lack- ing when conventional urban infrastructure projects are designed, impor- tant potential benefits from infrastructure upgrading may be forgone."6 The implication for development agencies is that their entire urban infra- structure portfolio-not only one or another flagship urban cultural heritage Ar~~~F WY ~i ~~~~~~PP -t AA A Figure 6. Fish market in historic Sana'a. - -- Although it faces pressures from urban '. growth and new construction, Sana'a' s > . - original urban core is intact, economicaliy . 44Aq-i active, and vibrant. ~ . At the Cutting Edge: Cultural Potrimony Protection through Development Projects 87 project-does play a role, directly or indirectly, in the comprehensive endeavor of sustainably conserving heritage sites. For this reason careful consideration of socio-cultural variables and impacts of all "regular" projects is required, even when direct investments in cultural public goods are not envisaged. U Notes 1 This chapter draws on research for a large cultural strategy study about pat- rimony preservation and management in North African and Middle Eastern countries, to be published in 2001: M. M. Cernea, Development and Cultural Heritoge Preservation (Washington, D.C.: World Bank, forthcoming). 2 The criteria for deciding which route to take have been (1) the nature of the country's request to the Bank, (2) available objective opportunities, and (3) institutional strength in the cultural sector. 3 F. Navez, "Projet de Sauvegarde de la Medina de Fez, Evaluation Sociale," April 1995 (processed). 4 An earlier (1991-92) United Nations Development Programme study, "The First Conservation Project for the Fez Medina," identified these as critical problems that need to be addressed with priority. 5 See L. Levi-Strauss, "Sacred Places in Historic Cities," in this volume. 6 Navez, "Projet de Sauvegarde de la Medina de Fez." See also N. L. Tagemouati, "La Medina de Fez a-t-elle une valeur d'echange?" (processed). 7 D. Hankey, "Case Study: Lahore, Pakistan: Conservation of the Walled City," Environmentally and Socially Sustainable Development Network, World Bank, Washington, D.C., 1999. 8 Harvard University and Association Sauvegarde de la Medina de Tunis, "The Rehabilitation of the Hafsia Quarter of the Medina of Tunis," Project Assessment (mimeo), World Bank, Washington, D.C., 1994. 9 "Morocco: Fez Medina Rehabilitation Project," Staff Appraisal Document, World Bank, October 7, 1998. 10 Minutes of the Meeting of the World Bank Executive Directors, Staff Notes, November 1978. 11 The following excerpt from a presentation made by the project preparation team leader, Tufan Kolan, vividly describes the country situation and the team's reasoning: "When we first got into this project, we realized that Jordan did not have a coherent tourism strategy.... The Department of Archeology was working with some 19 donors, supporting excavations here and there, with great dispersion among numerous sites. The value added by the Bank resulted primarily from placing the focus on a coherent strategy for developmental tourism. I am referring to a three-pronged strategy which combines tourism development, cultural heritage enhancement, and urban regeneration. We suggested that a longer time frame would be nec- essary, thinking about the Bank's involvement over a ten-year period rather than preparing just a sporadic operation, and that we would favor phased investments starting with the highest priority and moving onward. Within Michaei M. Cerneo such a coherent strategy, we must have policies that support the private sector in tourism and we must have the right institutions. On the invest- ment side, the ten-year sector strategy should be accompanied by an invest- ment program which makes investments in phases. And the third step was to link policy, institutions and investments in determining the priority sites." 12 D. Gressani and J. Page, "Reconstruction in Lebanon: Challenges for Macroeconomic Management," Middle East and North Africa Social and Economic Development Group (MNSED) Working Papers Series 16 (April), World Bank, Washington, D.C., 1999. 13 See C. Delvoie, "Tunisia: Cultural Heritage Management and Valuation Project," Regional Operations Committee (ROC) Meeting for Project Completion Document Review memorandum, World Bank, Washington, D.C., September 21, 1998. See also F. Amiot, "Tunisia Cultural Heritage Project." ROC Review of the Project Completion Document Decision Memorandum, World Bank, Washington, D.C., October 7,1998. 14 M. Gautier, F. Amiot, and J. Taboroff, Back-to-Office Report, memorandum to Sonia Hammam, World Bank, May 4, 1999. 15 "Rapport Preliminaire: Projet de gestion et de valorisation du Patrimoine Culturel" (mimeo). (Diraset-Empreinte et Communication-Groupe Huit, Tunis, February 1999. 16 This aspect is distinct from the situations addressed in the World Bank's Operations Policy (OP 4.11) concerning safeguarding of heritage, which warns against "damage by commission" rather than by omission. These pol- icy guidelines explicitly require that infrastructure projects take safeguard- ing precautions prior to and throughout all civil works. Part III Rescuing Heritage at Risk: Reconstruction, Transformation, and Adaptation Editors' Note The chapters in Part 11 examine the built heritage at risk and the range of res- cue plans developed for its conservation, transformation, occasional recon- struction, and adoptive reuse. Although the destruction of a monument or an ensemble of monuments may be caused by natural disaster, most experts agree that vulnerability to decay is often aggravated by inadequate safe- guards, inadequate inspection procedures, and deferred maintenance-in other words, neglect. The first two chapters depict successful reconstruction efforts in Assisi, Italy, and in Lijiang, China, in the aftermath of intense seismic episodes. The second group of chapters covers transformation, adaptive reuse, and re-dedication of historic structures in Venice, Italy; Tampico and Tlacoltapan, Mexico; and Recife, Brazil. Giorgio Croci describes decisions made in sequencing the reconstruction of the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. These start with the examination af the structural damages and the engineering solutions proposed, especially the urgent measures taken right after the earthquake ta prevent a complete col- lapse of the vaults and tympanum. With the deformation of the structure it was feared that further destruction of the roof of the chapel would occur damaging the frescoes and works of art dating from fourteenth and fifteenth 89 90 Editors' Note centuries. The second stage of the work involved the consolidation and restoration of the Basilica's inte- riors using state-of-the-art technologies. Geoffrey Read and Katrinka Ebbe document and analyze the post-earthquake reconstruction and con- servation of the Old City of Lijiang, a project assisted by the World Bank. Lijiang's 800-year-old urban design of meandering canals and roads is home to 10 notional minority groups. Lijiang is o designoted World Heritage Site. In response to widespread destruction from earthquakes the Chinese government issued guidelines on how structures should be strengthened to make them sofer and more resistant to quakes. Regulations were also issued to upgrade the housing stock, and provisions were made to protect the historic character the Mu Fu Complex. The goal was to mobilize resources quickly and re-establish normal life in the city, while protecting its unique cultural heritage. Coordination among agencies, empowerment of the local community to participate in upgrading, assistance in heritage management tourism planning, and institutional capacity building are all priorities in this type of an intervention. Deterioration of the natural environment of the Venetian Lagoon is threatening the ensemble of mon- uments in Venice. Protracted deterioration of the city's marine environment, rising water levels (acqua alta), and high tides, as well as a massive loss of industrialjobs and of the resident population over 30 years, have damaged the city's economic capacity and hence its capacity to protect its unique heritage. Maurizio Sabini examines the rehabilitation of the Arsenale and the re-use of the historic warehouses of the old navy yard for a high-technology industry and information technology research center These new commercial uses are expected to generate jobs and pave the way for the economic recovery of Venice. Alfonso Govela provides a detailed account of the work of his team of architects in Tampico and Tlacoltopan, Mexico. In Tampico they rebuilt and adapted the old Customs House, orAduana, and the Edificio de la Luz, both structures refitted for new uses. Their experience shows how abandoned and neglected structures can be recovered by the private sector for useful and attractive use. The trans- formed buildings haveproved economically viable and are importantpoliticalsymbols of recovery in the downtown area. In contrast, the reconstruction experience of the historic centerof Tiacotalpan, because it was designated a World Heritage Site, attracted greaterscrutiny and involvement by experts and offi- cials. The firm's experience in Tlacotalpan demonstrated that preservation actions regulated by complex approval procedures by state, federal, and intemational agencies are often slow in being implemented. Carlos Alberto Vieira relates the identification through bibliographic and archeological research of an early seventeenth-century building in Recife, Brazil, which housed the first synagogue built in the New World. The Kahal Kadosh Zur Israel Synagogue was built by the community of Portuguese Jews brought by Prince Mouricio de Nassau in 1630 to Northeast Brazil. These PortugueseJews had immigrated to the Netherlands to escape the Inquisition courts. After the expulsion of the Dutch from Brazil, this commu- nity of Jews escaped by going back to Holland or by drifting into the Caribbean and eventually to New York, then known as New Amsterdam. Their legacy had been all but forgotten. Through the Funda,oa Safra, a private foundation in Brazil, reconstruction works are under way. The refitted building will house a seventeenth-century interior of a synagogue and a research and documentation center, with documents to be brought from Portugal and the Netherlands to celebrate the legacy left by the Jews in colonial Brazil. Reconstructing i the Basilica of Assisi he Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, the imposing pilgrimage Giorgio Croci church built in Italy from 1228 to 1253, is famous not only as a holy site but also for the wonderful frescoes by Cimabue and Giorgio Croci holds the Choir ofStructural * Restoration of Monuments ond Historic Giotto that cover its walls and vaults. These frescoes, which Buildings and is professor ofStructural represent scenes of St. Francis' life and episodes in the history Engineeringin theo culty ofEnginering ot the University of Rome La Sapienza; Is a of the Catholic Church, are considered milestones in the history of paint- consultant to UNESCO, ICCROM, the ing in the Western world (figure 1)i 1Council of Europe, and the Italian Ministry ing in the VVestern world (figure 1).1 ~~~~~~~~~~~of Foreign Affairs; and is president of the ICOMOS Internationol Committee of Analysis and Restoration of Structures in History, Damage, and Collapse Architectural Heritage, moil9giorgiocroci.com The Basilica of St. Francis has endured many earthquakes; yet none pro- duced damage as great as that of September 26, 1997. The quake destroyed the vaults near the facade, the vaults near the transept, and a portion of the left transept (figure 2). It also caused large cracks and per- manent deformation all over the vaults, leaving them in a very precari- ous and dangerous situation. Besides the accumulated impacts that past earthquakes of different characteristics may have produced on the Basilica, other factors in the past have increased their vulnerability. The tympanum consists of a cav- ity wall with two faces and an inner fill. Its partial collapse was caused by the decay of the mortar that joined the bricks of the external face with the inner fill. The first damage was produced on September 26, but it was the quake of October 7 that created a large hole in the wall. The collapse of the vaults was produced by a large volume of fill, main- ly broken tiles and other loose materials that had accumulated in the springer zones over centuries of roof repairs. Under seismic actions this fill, lacking any cohesion, slides from side to side, alternatively stressing the opposite side. Moreover, the loose fill follows the movement of the vaults, opposing their recovery, thereby causing additional permanent deformations. When the September 26 quake hit the Basilica, it is very likely that permanent deformations that reduced the curvature, and therefore the bearing capacity of the vaults, had accumulated as a con- sequence of previous earthquakes. 91 9-2 Grorgo Croci N Wif '~~~~~1 'A Figure 1. Frescoes on the walls and vaults After the September 26 quake a general model and a global stress analy- of the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. sis of the Basilica was carried out. A non-linear model of the vaults con- firmed the decisive role of the fill (figure 3). When the horizontal accel- pyartipally ,eSi eration reaches about 0.2 g (gravity acceleration), collapsed S ,<\ relevant tensile stresses are produced. The defor- / i: Cracked and mation shown by the mathematical model is per- rz n vaults fectly in agreement with the failure mechanism of the vaults filmed by Umbria Television. The failure .A Collapsed resulted from the progressive loss of curvature of \ a l, N vault the ribs. Then a "hinge" was produced in the mid- dle, and finally the rib collapsed, drawing the vault down with it. The collapses were concentrated on these specific zones as a result of the direction of the seismic action. It was mainly perpendicular to the nave axis; thus it behaved globally like a "beam," for which a kind of restraint at the ends was provided by the stiffness of the fac,ade and the transept. The result Ma n directionof seismic action \was that high normal and shear stresses were pro- duced there, in addition to the "local stresses" result- Figure 2. The collapsed vaults [one is hidden behind the bell tower) and the ing from the weight of the fill (figure 4). damaged tympanum in the Basilica. Reconstructing the Basilica ofAssisi 93 Urgent Measures Urgent measures were required immediately after the earthquake to prevent the global collapse of the tympanum and vaults. The surviving vaults all were affected by large cracks distributed both on the intrados and the extra- dos (figure 5). As already mentioned, curvature was lost in several zones. The danger that the standing vaults might collapse, and the consequent risk to human life, precluded the possibility of supporting the vaults from the ground level. Instead, a platform was suspended from the roof above the vaults with the double function of inspection and providing a base for working over the vaults (figure 6). The urgent measures taken in the first month after the main earthquake can be summarized as follows: ,~~ Figure 3. Stresses and deformation of the vault ; s s~A i~~~~ I Figure 43Oeo Streses moand deformations of the vault.c t j1 El o ~~~~~~'~~ ., : 5.5<. 2f:!- fi ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fgore 4 Ose of the modal deformations of the vaults caused by seismic actions. 94 Giorgio Croci * Removal of the huge load represented by the fill in the springer zones of the vaults . ,,,,< - * Filling the cracks with a salt-free mortar to limit possible damage to the frescoes i nw_ * Applying bands of synthetic fibers over the cracks of the extrados. * Suspending the vaults from the roof with a system of tie bars, having first inserted two springs to maintain the force at the design value, independent of thermal effects and minor vibrations. As regards the tympanum, the risk was that if it had collapsed, it would have destroyed the roof of the chapel below, destroying frescoes and works of art of inestimable value. After long reflection it was decided to use a Figure 5. Cracks and deformations in the vaults. huge crane 50 meters tall to reach the tympanum and remove the bricks and loose fill. .U il But such a crane could not pass through the narrow gate into the inner _ I,|hyard. This problem was resolved by using two cranes. The first, outside .^- .s.; '!t the Basilica complex, lifted the second one over the roof of the building and deposited it in the inner courtyard (figure 7). ~'-^ Organizing this operation involved anchoring two cantilevered steel trusses on the two walls of the transept. The trusses were designed to support a 4.5-ton steel frame structure in the shape of the tympanum, a triangle 8 meters high and 17 meters at the base. Then the empty spaces in the tympanum and big holes were filled with polyurethane foam to provisionally stabilize the masonry. -. w - Consolidation and Restoration Project Figure 6. The small flying bridge suspend- The problem of the definitive restoration and consolidation of the Basilica, ed fron the roof to inspect and strength- especially as regards the vaults, without risking damage to the frescoes and without compromising the historical value of the original vault structure, was very delicate. The choice has been to realize on the extrados a series of small ribs, following a pattern typical of Gothic structures (figure 8), leav- *i3Xj~ ing the original structure clearly visible. These ribs are made of a light and very strong composite material made of a central timber nucleus and aramidic fibers embedded in epoxy resins. The ribs are built in situ, so that it is possible to follow the deformed shape of the vaults. * iU '-t- -_ w As regards the cracks that have compromised the continuity of the vaults, it *-. '.. '- ~ w. was decided to complete the first injections in the emergency situation using - ~. a mortar that satisfied very specific and severe conditions. This mortar is salt- free and compatible with the frescoes. It is sufficiently fluid to penetrate and Figure 7 A crane lifts up a second crane to be placed in the inner diffuse in all the cracks and micro-cracks and to be injected in dry masonry courtyard of the Convent. (no use of water is allowed). Finally, it has good strength and bond capacity so that it can establish structural continuity through the cracks. Reconstructing the Bosilico of Assisi 95 - ... t' Figure B. Ribs made of a central timber * - . x W nucleus and external aramidic fibers. The reconstruction of the collapsed vault has been another major prob- lem. Fortunately, painstaking research identified several frescoed bricks that could be reused to rebuild the vaults. It has been necessary howev- er to produce new bricks with the same constituents and similar charac- teristics as the original ones. The Basilica was reopened to the public in November 1999, two years and three months after the earthquake. That is a record for swift action. It was possible because we were charged with all the responsibilities, and we had the powers to take any decision without waiting for any approval. Conclusions The operations carried out, first to save and then to consolidate and restore, the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi all have followed the same philosophy. That is to place the most up-to-date techniques and tech- nologies at the service of the culture in order to respect the historic value of the ancient building and to obtain adequate safety levels, changing the original conception as little as possible. Some of these technologies, never before applied in the restoration field, have been studied expressly for this occasion. They offer interesting new possibilities to safeguard architectural heritage and open new perspec- tives in the cultures of conservation and restoration. Envoi Most literature on preservation of built heritage refers to the meaning of the building to the people. However, few attempt to study the many nat- ural phenomena that put our architectural heritage at risk. An earthquake caused the collapse of the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. 96 Giorgio Croci : I :-- U .' l r Eleg 4 - Figure 9 (above). Bukhara Mosque prior to The effect of rising dampness associated with soil settlements caused the reconstruction, Uzbekistan. collapse of one of the four minarets of a mosque in Bukhara, Uzbekistan Figure 10 (above right). Reconstructed plan (figures 9, 10). During a UNESCO mission to Uzbekistan, we advised of of the seventeenth-centiry city center of Bukhara. the risk of this situation, but, unfortunately, a few months later, we were called again to look at the situation after one minaret had collapsed. Soil is also settling under the Tower of Pisa (figure 11). Through a restora- tion project using under-excavation, 10 percent of the tilt will be recov- ered. In this technique we remove bits of soil on the positive side of the inclination to produce an artificial tilt on the positive side. In a way this is going back to the future because, when we recover 10 percent of the tilt, the tower will be in the same position that it was three-and-a-half cen- turies ago. We have verified that this is a totally safe procedure. Decay and natural process are severely accelerated in the tropics. For example huge trees have grown over the structure of the temple in Angkor, strangling it (figure 12). In that case UNESCO suggested that the trees be protected as part of the cultural heritage so that the trees have to be maintained as well as the temples. The worst of all threats, however, are produced by human beings. Wars often deliberately aim to destroy not only the building as a material and physical entity but primarily as representatives of their culture. During the war in Croatia the United Nations flag could not prevent wide disasters. The old town of Dubrovnik, so quiet and peaceful, without any military Reconstructing the Basilica ofAssisi 97 _~~~~~~~~~4 ~ ~ * __ iFF_ lAl interest, was partially destroyed by bombs. It is quite pathetic that des- Figure 11 (above left). The campanile of perate attempts to protect a historic building can do little against a shell. Pisa Cathedra builtrin 1174, hasreght sto- to soil subsidence at its foundation the The destruction of the Sarajevo Library and the destruction of the Mostar tower leans dangerously to one side. Through under-excavation, about Bridge took place far more for their symbolic meaning as links between 10 percent of the tilt will be reversed. different ethnic groups than for their intrinsic architectural value. Figure 12 (above). Archeological remains of the temple in Angkor, Cambodia, are Too little is done to protect architectural heritage. Too often actions are taken the object of conservation work to expand knowledge of the ancient Khmer Empire. to repair, consolidate, or restore only after the damage, the decay, the collapse, Specialists have recommended preserva- and the spoiling of our architectural heritage have occurred. Rather, repair and tion ojf both the stone work and the over- applying global preventive measures and strategies should be ongoing. g g trees. However, even if prevention and conservation must remain our primary tasks, decay and destruction are not the only problems that we face. Habits and customs of people are changing. Traditional uses of buildings cannot be maintained in a modern society. Towns are growing rapidly. The environment is more and more aggressive towards cultural heritage. To preserve cultural heritage, education of the public and governments- local, national, and international-is essential. U Note 1 A visitor to the West Wing of the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D. C. will find in the rooms dedicated to the beginnings of Western art outstanding works by Cimabue and Giotto. Adaptive Reuse of the Arsenale Complex, Venice Maurizio Sabini he Arsenale, an old military shipyard and dock area, has exist- ed since the twelfth century and had been completely aban- Maurizio Sobini is an orchitect in pvate doned and in decay. The redevelopment of one small portion of proct,ce In Trieste, Italy r the complex has been one of the most economically successful * and culturally meaningful interventions in the upgrading of Venice (figure 1). Venice is a world-famous urban wonder, an architectural jewel miraculously set in the middle of a most delicate, complex natural environment, the Venetian Lagoon. The lagoon environment has fallen into severe jeopardy due to several factors. These factors are the industrial district constructed at Porto Marghera; deep canals dug throughout the Lagoon for large cargo and oil tanker traffic; pressure exerted by the construction of human settlements around its borders; and ecological problems caused by increasingly polluted Figure I Arsenale, Venire: aerial view. 98 Adaptive Reuse of the Arsenole Complex, Venice 99 river effluents. Moreover, in recent decades climatic changes resulting in a rise in sea level, combined with soil subsidence, have caused the City of Venice to suffer the now oft-recurring phenomenon of acqua alta, or excep- tionally high tides. In 1966 a record high tide, measuring 1.94 meters, brought the attention of the international community to Venice. The city also has suffered from an alarming deterioration of its social fabric and demographic structure, with an exodus of younger inhabitants from the historic city to other coastal cities. The outflow is due primari- ly to the unaffordable costs of rehabilitating old buildings to modern liv- ing standards, the mounting pressure of tourism on the property market and public services, and the limited job market increasingly dominated by public institutions and tourism (figure 2). In a drastic demographic shift over the last 50 years the resident popu- lation has dropped nearly 55 percent, from 150,000 in the late 1940s to 68,000 in 1998. By Italian standards Venice has a relatively low density of 90 inhabitants per hectare, compared with 200 to 300 inhabitants per hectare in other Italian historic centers. The average age of the popula- tion is increasing rapidly, from 35 in 1971 to 45 in 1997. To address the loss of the industrial and mercantile economic base and more than one-half of the population, as well as the environmental problems, the local administration took several actions in recent years. These were to (a) develop systems to control the high tides, (b) construct a new sewerage system and dredge the canals, (c) implement urban renewal projects, (d) diversify the urban economy, and (e) create more affordable housing to attract new residents to Venice. It is within this strategy that the redevelopment and reconversion of the Arsenale was conceived. Located at the edge of the historic nucleus of Venice, the Arsenale was established in the twelfth century for the construction of the first Venetian fleets, then venturing on the Crusades and conquering .. lj....Figure 2. Mass tourism, as here in Venice, -s - --------------benefits historic cities economically but i - k 11! | | i 11 F li also puts pressure on the property mar- .L kets and public services and can limit job markets. 100 Mourizio Sabini strongholds in the southeastern Mediterranean. At the end of the sixteenth century the Arsenale occupied 26 hectares, boasting one of the first exam- ples of industrial production based on the assembly line. At the time the 3,000 workers employed at the Arsenale could produce 7 warships every month. After World War I, with the limitations imposed by its historic structures and by the environmental conditions of the Lagoon, primarily the shal- low canals, the Arsenale ceased to be a major military shipyard. From then on, although it is still owned by the military, its dry-docks were used by private ship-repairing firms. In the early 1980s discussions about the redevelopment of the area were advanced. A more comprehensive planning concept began to emerge based on a broader system of urban relations across the Lagoon in which the Arsenale compound would be endowed with a mix of different uses. Several architectural visions were examined as to the feasible uses of the various Arsenale sectors and to phase in the implementation. In 1991 a consortium of private and public companies was formed called Consortium THETIS, with the twofold objective of developing technical projects and building the THETIS center itself (figure 3). The center consists of 4,500 square meters of covered area and 6,500 square meters of open space, thus accounting for only 3 percent of the Arsenale's overall area. The project introduced a host of modern technological facilities into the his- toric warehouse structures, one of which was built in the sixteenth centu- ry, while preserving the physical integrity of the old buildings (figure 4). Furthermore, the design followed a reversibility concept so that the old warehouses may be reconverted into new uses once the current project LIBRARY s _Ry _ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~LABORATORIE S i TRAINIhG ;ZLBA o_TEST APDEA POOL Figure 3. THETIS Center, Venice. Adaptive Reuse of the Arsenale Complex, Venice 101 ends. The THETIS center is built to house a new engineering company that Figure 4 (above left). THETIS premises, develops innovative products and technological applications in marine Vheonuisceexterior,showinhistor and environmental technologies, telerobotics, and laboratory test facili- ties, transportation safety, monitoring systems, environmental safety sys- interior. tems for coastal cities, and maintenance and state-of-the-art information systems. These services are planned for the local, national, and interna- tional markets (figure 5). The rehabilitation of the Arsenale has represented a great opportunity to upgrade the City of Venice and its lagoon environment, and THETIS is a particularly successful example of adaptive reuse. The success of THETIS is attributed to the following variables: 1. Careful planning of the operational, financial, and management aspects of the projects, with the cooperation of public and private agents, before starting the actual physical design. 2. Creation of an operating structure, the Consortium THETIS, prior to the construction of the center, thus enabling the consortium to ben- efit from a pre-existing portfolio of clients and contracts, and tech- nological know-how. 3. The market-oriented technological assets of the consortium and cul- turally sensitive overall development concept merited external finan- cial support from the European Union. 4. Synergies created with local research centers. 5. Adoption of structure-friendly approach of architectural design based on a reversibility concept. In sum the exemplary value of the THETIS project lies in a revitalization of the historic areas approach that is not simply tourist-oriented but, rather, eco-sensitive and focused on generating new productive activities and richer and more diverse cultural growth. - Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation in Lijiang Geoffrey Read and *n February 1996 an earthquake measuring 7.0 on the Richter Scale Katrinka Ebbe 3 struck northern Yunnan, China. It resulted in the loss of life and * widespread destruction of dwellings; businesses; schools; hospitals; Geoffrey Read, prncipol municipol I and the water, power, and transportation systems. This chapter engineer Urbon Development Sector Unit, East Asio and Pacific Region, World Bank, presents the results of a World Bank-assisted earthquake recon- Was task manarger for the World Bank's reconstruction project in Liaong. Katrinka struction program and community heritage conservation work in the Old Ebbe, oculturalheritageconsultantatthe City of Lijiang in Yunnan. World Bank, prepared the cose stody on the Lijiang project. The World Bank provided a credit of US$30 million to reestablish daily life and economic activity as quickly as possible by helping to reconstruct the Old City's basic service infrastructure, dwellings, and community facilities (figure 1). To comply with local historic conservation guidelines, the community decided that the city's buildings must be reconstructed in their traditional architectural forms. Moreover, US$7 million of the credit was set aside to rehabilitate cultural heritage assets that had sus- tained severe damage. The rationale for these investments was the local importance attached to preserving cultural heritage and the need to help the Old City reconstruct an efficient, supportive environment for daily living and enterprise. Cultural Heritage in the Old City Due to the harmonious fusion of different cultural traditions and its uni- formly traditional cityscape, in 1997 the Old City of Lijiang was desig- nated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The urban fabric of this 800-year- old city is uninterrupted by twentieth-century construction or other incompatible development. Old Lijiang is also unique because it did not 102 Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation in Lijiang 103 3> *4~~~~~~~~~ iij ' I -_ ,,ItA 4I Figure 1 The cost for earthquake reconstruction in Lijiang, China, was - t -e.. _estimated at US$482 million. evolve according to the same rectilinear pattern as many older Chinese cities on the Central Plains. Instead, its mountainous setting has shaped streets and lanes that hug the hills in natural topographical patterns. The Old City's remarkable water-supply system has also shaped its develop- ment. The Yu River brings water to the edge of Lijiang, where the river branches into multiple streams and channels providing fresh water to every part of the Old City (figure 2). The size and shape of housing parcels have been adapted to take advantage of this natural water source. Lijiang also developed a unique style of housing in response to local con- ditions and traditions. Since the city has always been prone to earth- quakes, the buildings' wooden frames are built to be flexible, and the upright timbers are canted slightly inward to increase stability. Special attention is paid to the architectural detail of homes, especially to gate- way arches, doors, windows, balconies, and roof beams. Most wooden elements (beams, pillars, railings, and eaves) are elaborately carved with representations of lions, musical instruments, flowers, birds, fish, and =|> ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~ 4 Y r t I Figure 2. Many of the Old City's 354 bridges are local gathering places, Lijiang, China. 704 Geoffrey Read and Kotrinka Ebbe vignettes from folktales. Courtyards are paved with colored stones depicting the same images in mosaic patterns. Lijiang County is known for its vibrant, living culture. The area is home to 10 national minority groups. The Naxi are the most numerous, accounting for just over half of the county's population. The Naxi have kept their tra- ditional way of life, and ethnic dress is widely worn in the area. Most Naxi subscribe to an eclectic mixture of Buddhist, Taoist, and indigenous animist beliefs known as Dongba. Dongba rituals and beliefs are record- ed in an ancient pictographic language that is still read and translated by Dongba priests. Naxi music dates back to the Han Dynasty (207 B. C.- 220 A. D.). Even though this music is forgotten in the rest of China, it is still played in Lijiang. Using ancient instruments, local music societies play for their own enjoyment as well as for tourists. Earthquake Damage and Response The 1996 earthquake caused significant damage to the Old City's historic buildings, bridges, paving, and infrastructure. However, most catastrophic was the destruction of numerous homes. Residents' low income levels and dislocation made rebuilding a daunting task. To aid in the rehousing, the World Bank worked with the Lijiang County Construction Bureau to support grants for home repair and provide guidelines on reconstruction techniques. In many cases the traditional construction technique of loosely attaching walls to timber frames allowed the frames to shake without collapsing. However, even though the frames stood, the mud brick walls often collapsed, resulting in some injuries and deaths. Consequently, the reconstruction pro- gram emphasized more earthquake-resilient materials and techniques. Within a few weeks of the earthquake the County Construction Bureau issued the "Design and Construction Technical Requirements for Houses in Lijiang Prefecture." This set of guidelines explained the reinforcing tech- niques and materials that should be used to make housing safer during future earthquakes. The recommendations included using vertical and hor- izontal reinforcement poles and netting in walls, and fired, hollow-cement brick instead of sun-dried mud brick. In support of the existing regulations on historic preservation residents were also warned against using nontra- ditional materials or visibly contemporary building techniques. To initiate the housing repair grant program a village committee appraised the damage on each house and placed homeowners in one of three grant categories. Depending on the degree of damage, homeown- ers received grants of US$95, US$120, or US$300 to purchase of mate- rials. In addition to the grant program residents relied on mutual self- help groups. Families organized themselves to focus on completing the repair of one house and then moved on to focus on another. Construction Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation in Lijiong 105 Box 1. Housing repair grants and earthquake-resistant construction A4- .~~~~~~ Ms. Li received US$300 from the housing repair grant program, Lujiang, China. Ms. Li reported that she was visiting friends in another village when the earth- quake struck, and that she immediately prayed to the gods that no one in her house was injured. When she returned home, she was grateful to find her fam- ily unharmed, but her 100-year-old house was badly damaged. All the interi- or walls needed to be rebuilt, the roof was leaking, and the timber columns were out of alignment. Pooling her $300 repair grant with those of the three other families living in her courtyard house complex, she bought the materials for repairs. Because of the high demand for construction materials, supplies were scarce and prices had gone up 30 to 50 percent. Even so, she and her neighbors were able to rebuild and comply with reconstruction recommendations by using fired, hol- low-cement brick for the walls. Bureau staff report that often the amount of private money put into housing reconstruction was 5 to 10 times the amount of the grants. Upgrading in the Context of Historic Cities It is important to note that the World Bank's earthquake reconstruction programs are designed to restore facilities only to the level existing prior to the earthquake. In the case of historic cities it is often difficult to strike a sensible balance between replacement and improvement, partic- ularly when existing facilities are outdated or inadequate. Whatever the degree of upgrading, however, two overriding principles in this work are that (1) urban development should not result in the loss of significant historic assets; and (2) infrastructure work should be designed to be 106 Geoffrey Reod and Katrinka Ebbe compatible with the local architectural scale, form, and materials and the existing social fabric. Homes and infrastructure in the Old City are severely substandard in com- parison with what is found in the adjacent, newer parts of Lijiang (figure 3). Since China is projecting increasing incomes and a rising standard of living over the next 20 to 30 years, it is especially important that the Old City be upgraded to keep pace with residents rising expectations. The Earthquake Reconstruction Program identified a clear need to develop activities and guidelines to improve housing and upgrade infrastructure while preserving the World Heritage quality of the city's historic buildings. There are several possible scenarios for an historic urban area with substan- dard conditions when its population has the opportunity for a higher standard of living. First, as incomes rise, ad hoc improvements made without clear con- servation guidelines could destroy Lijiang's chief cultural asset, its uniformly historic cityscape. Second, wealthy residents could move to more modern areas of the town, leaving the Old City with a population financially incapable of maintaining the historic properties. Third, if tourism increases (as planned by Chinese authorities), a substantial amount of housing could be converted into businesses, stripping the area of its residential and social character. These are classic patterns of decay in historic urban environments all over the world. Clearly, the ideal in Old Lijiang will be to facilitate the current population's ability to remain in place while encouraging upgrading that maintains the historic urban environment. A design study to develop appro- priate and cost-effective means of upgrading housing while maintaining the historic quality of the interior and exterior design would address: * Safe and aesthetic installation of basic services such as electricity and sanitation * Construction and material improvements to provide thermal insula- tion and increase wind- and waterproofing * Adjustments to the traditional layout of rooms to incorporate mod- ern lifestyles. Improvements to Lijiang's urban infrastructure also are needed to ensure the sustainability of the Old City as a safe and healthy place to live. To maintain the city's historic quality and atmosphere, unobtrusive routing and coordi- nation of these services is critical. Carefully considered design guidelines are, therefore, extremely important for this work. They should include: * Design solutions for the installation of street lighting, telephone lines, and water and drainage services compatible with historic streetscapes * High-quality materials and installation techniques to minimize the need for maintenance disruptions. Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation in Lijiang 107 Box 2. Increasing average age of the historic city's residents i4Z~~~~~~~~~~~~"A r ji@.r i'U Jr,.i Hr,..1 H,., wi. h.- ,re i.L,;ri)! rh,r,2 ianri .g;ng Huar familv rt3 lived in the same houjse in Li1;ang for 200 years. Mol (if the vounger generatiori has roved to n.:,dern apartments in the new part o,f the t j. but they like te,e old wa s and the atmosphere in the Old City. The9 uCe oCii 3nd charcroal for cooking arid hearing. M-lanj ilder co,uples lile the tangs care for their granrjchIdren in the Old C,t,' while their rnarrecd children lI.e anrd vj'jrk in newi L,13rg. riMiung couples ray trev reed the t,Time to. focus on k9jirt and like the idea that their ch,,ldren are tbeingL ra,ied in a tradit,onal environment E.en though many fanilies sir L,ianl still al,je the tra,ti,onal life hvie of the Old Cily. urtar, planner: knot, that the pre&.ent trend ,of outwV3rd mrrlratior. of the ,ounri i dangerous sign that predcts a dowinviard lide in income levels and alriliry to maintain housingi. An additional challenge, common to many historic cities, is Lijiang's extremely dense city plan and narrow streets, which lack adequate access for fire fighting and other service vehicles. Specialized small-scale, non- polluting service vehicles for emergencies and services such as solid waste collection need to be located or developed to address this problem. Tourism Development In addition to its population's rising expectations for an improved stan- dard of living, the Old City faces another challenge: the Chinese govern- ment's plans to focus on tourism in the Lijiang area. In 1998 1.53 million 108 Geoffrey Read and Kotrinka Ebbe 5.. A Figure 3. Much of tie housing in the 4.'- Old City lacks sanitation facilities and . - electricity, Lijiang, China. - tourists visited Lijiang Prefecture and generated US$11.36 million in tourism-related income. As is true world-wide, these numbers are increasing every year. Tourism holds great promise for positive outcomes in Lijiang. It can diversify and generate economic development, create jobs, supply the funds necessary to maintain historic sites and promote cultural understanding. However, tourism also brings the possibility of negative economic and phys- ical impacts on heritage assets and the host community. Possible negative impacts include destruction of inadequately managed historic or natural environments, congestion, pollution, and over-use of community facilities. Lijiang's most unique and valuable asset is its traditional ethnic community. The latter is also the most vulnerable to the negative impacts of tourism. As has happened elsewhere, residents of Lijiang could become hostile toward tourism if they are continuously confronted with visitors who have dissimi- lar lifestyles and higher incomes, or if their culture is not respected by visi- tors. The continuous presence of such outside influences may cause long- held social values to erode and age-old cultural practices to be discarded. The choice that must be made between economic development through tourism and maintaining a community's way of life is sometimes extremely difficult. One answer lies in the fact that the size and diversity of the tourism Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation in Liiang 109 market means that there are many different options in the type and scale of tourism development communities can pursue. Communities may choose to develop mass market tourism that is served by large hotels and provides many service sector jobs. In contrast, communities can choose "study group" tourism, which brings limited numbers of visitors who stay in locally owned and operated bed-and-breakfasts. A third alternative is the development of eco-tourism or adventure tourism, in which visitors "rough it," sleeping in tents and requiring little in the way of infrastructure or services. To enable Lijiang residents to plan for tourism development and effectively manage the changes it brings, several basic principles should be considered. Community Control Community residents must be involved in creating comprehensive tourism development plans. Ideally, communities will be in control of identifying the heritage assets, setting objectives, designing development strategies, implementing strategies, and evaluating success. Informed Choice Communities should have full information on the likely consequences of their tourism development choices. For instance, planners should help communities think through the differences between large hotels owned by outsiders versus small, locally owned bed-and-breakfast development. Impact and Feasibility Studies The potential for positive benefits, as well as negative consequences on the local population, heritage, and environment must be carefully considered through impact assessments. Rather than basing expectations for revenues on assumptions, feasibility studies that use tourism industry expertise should be done to evaluate the real potential of the tourism market. Community Benefits Development must be planned so that all residents have equal access to the benefits of tourism. Training and loans for local residents are one way to ensure that tourist hotels, restaurants, and shops are developed and controlled at the local level. Using tourism profits for community servic- es such as health centers or literacy classes is another way to distribute the benefits of tourism. Authentic ond Sustainable Development Heritage resources must be developed according to internationally accept- able criteria and standards of authenticity. The tourist experience should be authentic, reflecting the area's true culture rather than false or artificial images. The development must be sustainable, that is, have adequate plan- ning and funds for quality operation and maintenance over time. 110 Geoffrey Read ond Kotrinko Ebbe Respectful and Educational Programming Engaging educational programs and interpretation should be presented to assist visitors in understanding the heritage, culture, history, religion, and way of life in the local area. Visitors also should be given guidance on local taboos and cultural attitudes. Regional and National Planning Tourism development must be grounded in the realities of regional and national policies, priorities, and resources. For instance, even isolated sites are subject to the impact of national decisions on infrastructure development. New roads and services can encourage increased numbers of visits to historic sites but also create the opportunity for other devel- opment that results in pollution and overuse. The residents of Lijiang deserve respectful tourism that brings benefits to their community. The most effective way to ensure this is to facilitate their informed participation in the process of planning and developing the tourism. Because much of the value of the tourism experience in Lijiang lies in the culture and lifestyles of local residents, successful tourism development will depend on avoiding negative impacts on their way of life (figure 4). Historic Site Conservation: Mu Fu Complex One of the major tourism sites in Lijiang's Old City is the Mu Fu Complex. In 1382 a local ruling family by the name of Mu began building its administra- tive compound in the Lijiang area. For the next 340 years each successive Mu leader enlarged and embellished the 22,000-square-meter administrative center. The rectilinear site included administrative, ceremonial, religious, business, entertainment, and domestic structures that progressed up the side y -, . . - ^ of Shizi Mountain, culminating in an elaborate temple at the top. -,., In 1723, the local family was replaced by an imperial appointee, and the ,*-_, t - -- _)*, 5 compound began a gradual deterioration. Many buildings were destroyed or damaged by earthquakes and fire. After the formation of the People's Republic of China in 1949 some contemporary buildings were added to the site, and some existing buildings were converted to government offices. The 1996 earthquake caused additional damage, prompting local officials to use some of the earthquake reconstruction loan to restore the complex and develop it as a tourist destination. In 1996 the Mu complex was a large and important, but heavily damaged, site. The World Bank's advice on conservation of the Mu Fu emphasized the value of complete and reliable evidence for the work to be undertaken. Because the city was seeking UNESCO World Heritage designation for the Figure 4. Lijiang County is home to more than 10 nationa minority groups. Mu Eu complex, high standards for authenticity were especially important. Post-Earthquake Reconstruction ond Urbon Heritage Conservation in Lijiong Correct and authentic conservation was also crucial to ensure that the site could be meaningfully presented to the public. Architects and archaeologists from eminent research and design institutes in China were brought in to work on the site discovery and design. These pro- fessionals ascertained as much information as possible on the compound's site plan, construction techniques, architectural details, and decoration before any demolition or adaptation work was begun. Over a year Mu Fu conservationists used multiple methods for gathering information including: * Measured surveys of existing buildings and site layout * Detailed investigations using photography, archaeology, and ground- level examination * Interviews with Mu family descendants * Research of historical records including examination of photograph- ic collections, municipal surveys, newspaper articles, family papers, and other public and private archives. Conservation architects first focused on determining the appropriate "restoration date" for different parts of the complex. Conservation was com- plicated by the site's age, its degree of deterioration, and the fact that much historic material had been scattered around the complex and built into later structures. Thus, different amounts of information were available concerning each building, making different parts of the site restorable to different dates. The total budget for conservation of the Mu Fu site was $4 million, with $2.7 million funded by the World Bank loan and $1.4 million funded by a matching grant from the national government. The cost of materials accounted for 60 percent-the largest portion-of the budget (figure 5). Labor accounted for another 20 percent. Huang Naizhen, director of the Lijiang County Cultural Bureau, managed this large project and reports that he coordinated a work force of 2,800 people, most of whom were local area residents. Of these, 2,200 worked off-site in rock quarries, forests, and factories. Six hundred worked on-site doing everything from wood and stone carving to site preparation and construction. This large number of workers was employed to meet the World Bank's emergency loan requirements for swift project completion. Plans for the adaptive reuse of the Mu Fu historic buildings are not yet completed. However, new uses for two buildings have been determined. The building once known as Ten Thousand Volumes is to be a library again. Its first floor will be a reception area, and the second floor will house the original collection. The third floor will be set aside for reading and study. The pavilion, once used for formal ceremonial occasions, will be used to present Naxi traditional music. Another building will be furnished with Ming Dynasty period furniture and hung with the Mu prefects' portraits and family trees to present Mu family history to the public. 112 Geoffrey Read and Katrinka Ebbe IaL w_ _w~-~-- - -'4~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4 -~ _ - Figure S. The Mu Fu site during The World Bank advisors recommended that each building in the com- reconstruction, Lijang, China. plex be given an active use to ensure its maintenance and sustainability. It is of critical importance that the local community be involved in deter- mining these new uses. Historic buildings that perform a useful function and are of value to the community are much more likely to receive prop- er care and maintenance. Considerations in determining new uses include opportunities for public education, employment, commerce, pro- vision of public services, and the market for tourism. Conclusion Today the Old City of Lijiang appears to have substantially recovered from the earthquake. Schools, hospitals, clinics, and factories are functioning again. Chinese officials and the Lijiang community can take enormous pride in what has been accomplished. However, the clear need for further development in Lijiang has identified the importance of future work that combines multiple sectors including community education and development, heritage protec- tion, tourism planning, urban upgrading, and institutional capacity building. Notwithstanding the project's effective work to conserve the original Old City of Lijiang, there is a need to acknowledge that there is a certain inevitability to future cultural change. Hopefully, the transformations that will occur due to rising standards of living and increased pressures from tourism, among other influences, will recognize the importance of preserving traditions, as well as allowing for change by encouraging tol- erance for cultural experimentation and creative adaptation. Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urbon Heritoge Conservation in Lijiang 113 Appendix. Lessons Learned: Post-Earthquake Reconstruction and Urban Heritage Conservation Administrative Management and Coordination * Heritage conservation requires the effective coordination of govern- ment departments that often do not cooperate with one another, such as the Department of Public Utilities, Department of Finance, the Construction Bureau, and the Culture Bureau. Strong leadership and the time required for this coordination must be built into project planning. * For a consistent and effective strategy to be implemented, all depart- ments and bureaus with responsibilities in historic areas must be made aware of the value of heritage preservation and the importance of adhering to international conservation standards. Public Involvement * Local communities should be involved in establishing the goals, strategies, and policies for the identification, conservation, manage- ment, and presentation of their heritage resources, cultural practices, and contemporary cultural expressions. * To preserve and cultivate the public's appreciation of these assets, continued outreach in the form of information and interpretation of the significance and value of local heritage is important. Upgrading in Historic Cities * Rebuilding traditional homes without updating basic services such as sanitation and electricity has negative consequences for older neigh- borhoods in the long term, possibly causing them to be abandoned for newer housing. * Adding basic services to traditional buildings requires inventive design solutions to avoid unrealistic costs and damage to the historic nature of these structures. * Historic buildings must accommodate active uses if they are to be maintained. Buildings can be used for education, employment, com- merce, public services, or tourism, depending on where the greatest potential for community benefits and heritage conservation lies. * Infrastructure such as roads, drainage, and power lines in historic cities inevitably needs upgrading if these cities are to continue to offer efficient environments for safe and healthy living, commerce, and tourism. Upgrading must use materials and techniques that are compatible with historic streetscapes. Historic Site Planning and Management * Protection of heritage sites for their continued value and use is the ultimate site management goal. A site's physical carrying capacity (number and type of visits that can be sustained without damage) 14 Geoffrey Read and Katrinka Ebbe should be determined. Operation and management systems should then be designed to maintain the site at its optimal use level. * Financial planning should be based on expected income from entrance fees and other related enterprises, as well as subsidies. Long- term operation and maintenance plans based on realistic figures should then be planned. * All planning for site development and management must be done with an understanding of regional and national policies and priori- ties. Planned and potential investments in infrastructure, such as roads and airports, are especially important to consider. * Sites that offer the most educational value to local communities and tourists are based on careful research, authentic development, and engaging presentation. These steps often are ignored in development, much to the detriment of the sites' success. Tourism Development * Tourism is likely to be a strong force in most historic cities. It needs to be directed and controlled so that its economic benefits are cap- tured at the local level to preserve the heritage asset and benefit the community equitably. * When planning for cultural tourism, a multidisciplinary approach is necessary to determine site carrying capacity, project the costs for operation and maintenance, set fees, interpret heritage for visitors, and develop related services. This multidisciplinary approach should particularly involve the Culture and Tourism Bureaus. * The potential for tourism's positive benefits, as well as its negative consequences on the local population, heritage, and environment must be carefully considered through impact assessments. * In many historic settings the most unique and valuable heritage asset is the living culture. However, this feature is also the most vulnerable to the negative consequences of tourism development. During tourism planning communities should be enabled to make fully informed choices on the type and level of tourism development in their areas. * Social carrying capacity for tourism, or the ability of communities to maintain their desired way of life in the face of tourist visits, must govern the extent of tourism development. * Plans for tourism development at the local level should be evaluated by representatives of the tourism industry for their real potential to attract sufficient visits and spending to justify investments. World Bonk Involvement * Local project staff need expertise and support from the World Bank in the areas of heritage conservation and management, especially in planning for adaptive reuse of historic buildings, tourism develop- ment that maximizes community benefits, and urban upgrading that is compatible with historic areas. - Adaptive Reuse of Mexico's Historic Architecture: Tampico and Tlacoltapan first basic concept vital in our work in urban historic her- Alfonso Govela itage is that we are not dealing with archeology but with liv- ing cities. We are intervening not in the preservation of Alfonso Govefa is principol partner in Alfonso Govela Arquitectos, Mexico D.F, something that is dead and unrelated to us but in a city that alfonsogovela@mexiscom is alive and changing.' An ironic French intellectual once said that politics is the art of keeping people away from what really con- cerns them. Our team of architects working on cultural heritage projects takes the opposite view when we intervene in living cities: we encourage as much citizen participation as possible. Second, an architectural and urban intervention in a living city is direct- ly related to the professional preconceptions that we have of heritage, history, and conservation. Thus, addressing our preconceptions is as important as preserving or modifying the physical artifacts or the intan- gible aspects of culture. We have an important responsibility to perma- nently question, support, and modify the ways citizens and professionals think about heritage. The third basic concept is that preservation theory and practice is a rel- atively new field. It has evolved considerably over the past 50 years. Wim Denslagen links the issue of preservation to the distribution of prints and drawings, reminding us of the Society of Antiquarians debate for the restoration of Salisbury Cathedral at the end of the eighteenth century.2 Until then people had little opportunity to compare any transformation of a historic monument. Since then, some theorists have turned the 115 Alfonso Govela tables and transformed the monument itself into a living document. Over the last half-century the views and objectives of preservation have changed from isolated objects, or buildings, to central areas of a city, to the broad notion of a whole territory, encompassing different simultane- ous moments of history and geography. Thus, the role of heritage has evolved from a cultural to an economic asset, to become, especially in Europe, an indispensable component in citizens' quality of life. Regardless of ideology, class, or politics, three issues now are accepted throughout the world: ecology, collective mem- ory, and qualityof life. Because these issues cut across whole sections of the population, they have become extremely important to local and global politics. In what do we intervene? In some countries interventions have been only to conserve facades. This is the easiest to do and should be avoided. We should not restore or preserve only facades; neither should we preserve only whole buildings, which is better than facades only; neither should we intervene only in cities, which is better than in buildings alone. What we should do is promote quality of life and community development. How do we do this? Some development agencies now are involved in financing.3 Economists talk about externalities-the impacts that indi- vidual actions have on others-but rarely in an urban or cultural context. International development economists are beginning to speak of exter- nalities in the context of the economics of cultural heritage. Fortunately, the concept and the method of calculating cultural impacts as external- ities of investment in a country are beginning to be applied to cultural heritage.4 Architects and urban planners should learn more about eco- nomics and demonstrate politically that investment in heritage can be economically and financially sound. Finally, for whom do we intervene? Citizens have a right to a cultural identity as much as they have a right to health, sanitation, potable water, sewerage, and all the other infrastructure that local, national, and inter- national economic development agencies have promoted and financed all over the world. We should strive for a balanced mix of funds and par- ticipants and avoid gentrification. And we should always fight for the right to cultural identity. To illustrate my points, I will describe experiences in two cities in Mexico: Tampico and Tlacotalpan. Both are river ports on the Gulf of Mexico, one in the northeastern state of Tamaulipas, the other in the southern part of Veracruz. Adaptive Reuse of Mexico's Historic Architecture: Tompico Gnd Tlocoltopon 1t7 J.t- t ~ ~~ ~ ~ -,-, manner. - i3Figure 1. Customs House, Tampico: * _ _ ; _ 1 u ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~overall view after rehabilitation. Tampico Very rarely is conservation realized in a rational, sequential, well-planned manner. Nor did conservation happen that way in Tampico. Most of the time it is better if we proceed haphazardly and unplanned while being very alert to the opportunities that crop up as we do things one at a time. Tampico would hardly qualify as a World Heritage city. Most of the city was built in the early twentieth century, when most of the world's oil came from there. The big oil fields brought plenty of sudden wealth, which manifested in new construction. Tampico was founded along two rivers. A beautiful industrial cast iron Aduana, or Customs House, was built between them (figure 1). It is still in use by the Secretary of the Treasury. Preservation of historic heritage is not the main objective of the Secretary, but the Treasury operates through more than 1,200 buildings all over Mexico, some of which are of historic importance. We were asked to examine Customs House because we had demonstrated to the officials that it would be cheaper to rehabilitate a historic building than to build anew. That caught their interest. We went through the orthodox program of documenting the building in detail, and we did something that we like to do: we intervened in a his- toric context. We added new and modern designs. Interventions should not refrain from constructing new parts in old buildings or new architec- ture in historic areas. However, the proper way to do this is to find the "warp" of the historic "fabric." That is the basic structure through which one 118 Alfonso Govelo - ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ i ;C bon,~~~~~~~7n t - - ._,,~~~.j. - Figure 2. Customs House, Tampico: Aduana "knits" each intervention. Using computers, we carefully studied the origins corridor interior view after rehabilitation. of each "thread" in the existing forms of the building and discovered its 'warp," around which we were able to tie the "knots" of a new "tapestry." We used this principle to design, for example, a new floor to replace one that had disappeared without a trace (figure 2). We were not afraid to reinterpret principles of construction that we saw in the building. We completely restored the structure. New mechanical, electrical, plumbing, and air conditioning infrastructure was installed, hidden from view. While working on the new design for the building, we discovered many local tradesmen and craftsmen who worked in the shipyards. We used their knowledge to restore the architectural details of the building. After the building was rehabilitated, an unexpected event happened. Tampico is a traditional venue for spring-break vacations for both Mexican and American students. Spring break or Holy Week in Tampico is not holy there at all, because about 200,000 mostly young people go to watch the two-legged monuments on the beach. However, that year 5,000 young people requested permits to visit the Customs House. Realizing the importance of tapping a collective memory, the manager of Customs quit his job and ran for mayor. He campaigned on restoring the historic center, although such a center did not exist as such. He won. To concentrate its regional offices in one area, the Treasury then bought another building, the Edificio de lo Luz (figure 3), just across from the Customs House and near a central square, Ploza de la Libertod. Adaptive Reuse of Mexico's Historic Architecture: Tompico ond Tlocoltapan 119 -2 Interestingly, both buildings had been bought through catalogues. The Figure 3. Edificio de to Luz, Tampico: View nineteenth century may have had more wisdom in terms of pre-fabrica- of original porticoesto Plaza de )a nineteenth century may have had more wisdom in terms of pre-fabrica- 'Libertad after Rehabilitation- tion than we have. One could buy buildings by catalogue from Be.giUM, England, or France. They came unassembled and were assembled in a couple of months. In the United States 100,000 houses were sold by mail order from 1908 to 1940 by Sears, Roebuck, and Company.5 We were asked to assist with the second building. We followed the same preservation approach. We searched for the geometry, or "warp" of the building, restored its structure, and introduced new design elements. After completion of the work, people became aware of the few remaining porticoes and balconies in the downtown square. To some they looked sim- ilar to ones in New Orleans, and they were correct. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, commercial agents sold the same add-on archi- tecture all around the Gulf. Many components of historic buildings are not original, and as citizens became very interested in the history of their buildings, authenticity even became a public issue. In a wise decision to concentrate his efforts, the new mayor decided to work in and around that square. To draw in community participation, it is essen- tial to create a critical moss of projects. By that time we could have prepared a complete design for the square and all of its surroundings. However, as pro- fessionals we decided not to. City form is much richer as a collection of suc- cessive octions by different people. Aesthetic coherence probably would have been more appeal to architects, but it would have produced a less vital result. 120 Alfonso Govela L l1 Figure 4. Plazo de /aLibertad, Tampico: What did we do for the square? In New York I found a facsimile of one buildings after rehabilitation. of the original catalogues used by the nineteenth-century.' Therefore, we advised the municipality on structural stability and lent the catalogue to the owners, enabling them to rehabilitate their buildings around the plaza any way they wanted (figure 4). Another public space between the Aduana and the Edificio was trans- formed. We built a garage underground and a seafood market on top. This building was designed using the prototype of the Customs House. However, the municipality was so invested in publicity and speed that political deadlines destroyed the original project design. On the one had it is an example of architecture going terribly wrong. On the other it demonstrates an urban participation success. When inter- ventions in historic areas are done correctly, people become deeply inter- ested. In terms of collective memory, when we hit a community nerve, the people move much faster than an architecture firm can respond. The lesson of Tampico is that the whole process was not planned at all. We started with only one building. Because that building happened to be linked to identity of the whole town, when our design corresponded with, and even exceeded expectations of the community, their reaction was immediate. Politicians immediately became involved. They became very good lobbyists to raise funds from different sources. Some funds were Adaptive Reuse of Mexico's Historic Architecture: Tampico and Tlacoltapan 121 N A 4 1 ........ provided by the Secretary of Social Development. Financial agencies for Figure 5. Municipal Market Tlacotalpan: aerial view after rehabilitation. business development were convinced to promote housing. A trust was founded with a revolving fund. Once this started to operate, everything moved very fast. Tampico has a new pride and cultural identity, as well as more tourism and development. Tlacotalpan Tlacotalpan is a smaller but more beautiful town. UNESCO recently declared Tlacotalpan a World Heritage city. It is like a tropical Bologna, with columns and arcades in every street. The Spanish Agency for International Cooperation (AECI) funded the restoration of the market as a key building for the community. The agency asked us to do that project as well as others to rescue the river- front for public use. The riverfront was overrun with small restaurant shacks. We carried out the restoration according to all the orthodox rules of preservation (figure 5). By finding historic photographs, we did a precise restoration, keeping the original geometry of the structure but adding new structural design according to new building code requirements for earth- quakes and hurricanes (figure 6). Along the riverfront we designed a proj- ect for a community arcade, a site for public walks and events, as well as an ordered and dignified location for the original restaurants. 122 Alfonso Govelo A,, Figure 6. Municipal Market, Tlacotalpan: The lesson of Tlacotalpan is that every action has become more difficult as a result of its being in the international limelight. While in Tampico we had only municipal interventions, we were able to move faster and motivate the community. In Tlacotalpan both federal and state authori- ties have to approve what the municipality or anyone else proposes. It is a town one-twentieth the size of Tam pico with numerous new, lengthy processes for historic building permits. It lacks a group of trained admin- istrators and has no way to expedite a productive dialogue among the community members and all of the institutions now involved in the area. To conclude, I would advise others to be alert to opportunities and not to try to plan everything in advance in a totally rational manner. If we accept a scenario that may be haphazard, unplanned, and totally lacking in order but stay focused on what we can and want to do, we just may touch that nerve of the community. WVhen it is touched, the full commu- nity will respond and do exactly what we professionals would love them to do, even though it may be different aesthetically from what we have been trained to design. U Adaptive Reuse of Mexico's Historic Architecture: Tompico and Tlocoltapan 723 Notes 1 See I. Serageldin, "Very Special Places: The Architecture and Economics of Intervening in Historic Cities," Culture Unit, Social Development Department, World Bank, Washington, D.C, 1999. Also in this regard URB-AL is a new program created by the European Union to provide grants to subsidize the development of urban and preservation projects. The pro- gram involves cities in the European Union and Latin America. It aims to create networks of cities that share similar problems and interests and enable them to exchange useful experiences. Their web site is http://www.urb-al.com 2 W. Denslagen, Architectura, Restoration in Westem Europe: Controversy and Continuity, Amsterdam: Architectura and Natura Press, 1994. 3 See chapters by Rojas; Armaly, Pagiola, and Bertaud; and 1. Serageldin in this volume. 4 S. Pagiola, "Economic Analysis of Investments in Cultural Heritage: Insights from Environmental Economics," Environment Department, World Bank, Washington, D.C., 1996. 5 K. C. Stevenson and H. W. Jandi, "Houses by Mail: A Guide to Houses from Sears, Roebuck and Company," National Trust for Historic Preservation, The Preservation Press, Washington, D.C., 1986. 6 W. MacFarlane, "Illustrated Catalogue of MacFarlane's Castings," Glasgow, Scotland, 1882. Copyright Historical Arts and Castings, Inc., Salt Lake City, Utah, 1992. In addition Professor Gomes Da Silva has written a beautiful book about iron architecture in Brazil. Geraldo Gomes Da Silva, Arquitetura do Ferro no Brasil, Sao Paulo: Livraria Nobel S.A., 1985. First Synagogue in the Americas: Kahal Kadosh Zur Israel Synagogue in Recife Carlos Alberto Vieira A Pt the end of the first half of the seventeenth century, some Caes A r VPortuguese and Spanish Jews expelled from Spain and Portugal Carlos Albertoa ieirais president immigrated to the Netherlands to escape from Inquisition of the Banco Sofra of Brozil and serves as a consultant courts. The Dutch had occupied the province of Pernambuco in totheITT Group and Ford, Brozil. northeast Brazil, led by Prince Mauricio de Nassau (figure 1). Thus, between 1630 and 1654 many Jews chose the new territory as a refuge. Since its inception, the Dutch occupation of Pernambuco had the support of the Jewish community from the Netherlands, an enemy of Spain, which in 1580 had gained control over Portugal. The Jews lived in Brazil in peace until the Portuguese took over Recife and gave them three months to leave the country. Once again about 150 fami- lies set out to sea aboard 16 ships. Their intention was to return to Holland. During their many stops en route north, they started new communities. One ship stopped at Belem do Para in Brazil. Others stayed in the Caribbean Islands and in countries of Central America. After many months of storms and diseases, one of the ships, the Valk, with 23 Jews on board, was taken by Spanish pirates in Jamaica. Later, those Jews were liberated by the crew of the French ship Saint Catherine, which was heading to North America. It was by pure luck that eight months later the Jews who had left Recife arrived in New Amsterdam, a small village with approximately 1,500 inhabitants. The first Jewish community of North America, the Shearit Jewish Congre- gation, was founded in September 1654 (5415 in the Jewish calendar). Rosh Hashanah was celebrated in the place where New York was founded. 124 Cirst Svnrgoycg in ine Amcricas: kahon x~t., I neath."' It was named Kahal Kadosh Zur Israel, meaning the "Sacred tt.9 '* a ~ Community, Rock of Israel." Its construction began in 1640 and was con- cluded in the following year (figure 3). * , ft After the Dutch were expelled from the village, the houses on Jewish Street were donated to various Portuguese-Brazilian inhabitants. The houses that served as the synagogue were donated to Joao Fernandes Vieira. In 1679 he donated them to a congregation of Catholic priests. After that they belonged to the Holy House of Mercy. The synagogue, i l l - * which was identified after research coordinated by historian Jos& Antonio Gonvalves de Mello, has been expropriated and will be registered in the National Monuments listing by Brazil's National Institute for Historic and Artistic Heritage (IPHAN). Figure 3. View of the former Kahal Kadosh Zur Israel Syragogue in Recife, At the beginning of the twentieth century the modernization of the his- built 1640-1641. toric center of Recife, the port, and its access routes destroyed large parts of the sixteenth-century houses. Maybe not by pure chance, the old Street of Jews, by then called Good Jesus Street, escaped demolition (fig- ure 4). Although they were modernized, the houses still preserve intact their internal walls, constructed more than 350 years ago. The fact that the Jews in Recife built a street to live on and the first syn- agogue in the New World justifies all the effort to restore such rich his- toric references. Not only for Jewish people but also for Brazil and the world, they are symbolic landmarks of survival of a people persecuted for their religious convictions. The historic restoration of the synagogue's features and its subsequent opening to public visitation are not the only objectives of the cultural project developed by the Association to Restore Jewish Memory in the Americas. The association also plans to create, perhaps on another site, S;~~~~~~N Figure 4. Street sign on Rua do Bom Jesus indicating its former name of Rua des '^'_ ' Judeus (1636-1654). _ ...____ First Synagogue in the Americas: Kahal Kadosh Zur Israel Synagogue in Recife 127 a repository for archeological research and documents, now scattered throughout the world, that give evidence of the Jewish presence in the colonization of the Americas. It is not only Banco Safra's foundation Fundac5o Safra and some financial organizations that are interested in restoring and preserving historic sites of the Jewish tradition. We have the participation of the Ministry of Culture, the City of Recife, IPHAN, and the Jewish Confederation and Federation. We also have the very important participation of the Minister of Culture in Brazil and the federal government, which gives special incen- tives in terms of income taxes for developing culture and preservation. One of the amazing archaeological gems discovered in the basement of the two townhouses on Rua dos Judeus-which confirms the existence of a synagogue on the site-is a mikvah, a bath in which certain Jewish rit- ual purifications are performed. A Jewish tribunal has officially recog- nized the discovery. Research conducted by archaeologist Marcos Albuquerque of the north- eastern university, Universidade Federal de Pernambuco, led to the dis- covery of the well, practically intact, and the original drains. The mikvah in question was filled using pressure from water collected from river wells and channeled to the pool. Beyond its religious significance, the discovery of the mikvah is of the utmost importance for the Jewish community. The findings prove the degree of liberty given to the Jewish community during the Dutch occupation of the province of Pernambuco (1630-1654) and adds to the list of similar mikvah discoveries in Israel (Massada, first century), Germany (Worms, twelfth century), and Spain (Bessalu, four- teenth century). Other major secular findings were discovered below the two townhous- es on Rua dos Judeus (number 197 and 213): eight floors corresponding to the successive land reclamations carried out on the river Beberibe, as well as remnants of an incomplete stone wall that the Dutch had intend- ed to erect to protect the city. On the first floor of the renovated building a seventeenth-century syna- gogue will be exhibited for visitors. No religious ceremonies will be held there. The layout will mirror the simplicity of synagogues of the day, con- sisting only of chairs and the sacred Ark, where the Torah was kept. This stage of the project should be concluded before the year 2000. The second stage of the project will be marked by the opening of a research and documentation center. Original documents or copies will be brought in from the Netherlands, Portugal, and Spain to form an archive. The objective is to turn Recife, with its already rich religious history and ?28 Carlos Alberto Vietro natural attributes, into an international center for cultural information as well as a tourist attraction. Funda,ao Safra will provide support for the project to restore the Recife synagogue. Under Brazilian Federal Law (Lei Rouonet), companies are allowed to invest in cultural projects pre- approved by the Ministry of Culture and receive certain benefits: * A tax deduction equivalent to 40 percent of the donation, up to 5 percent of income taxes due. * Companies can calculate the value of the donation or sponsorship as an operating expenditure, reducing taxable income. a Note 1 "Inventory of Arms and War Ammunition That the Dutch Left in Pernambuco and in the Constructed or Restored Buildings Listed until 1654." Part IV Economic Transition and Urban Heritage Preservation Editors' Note Govemment's role remains essential in the preservation and sustainable use of cultural heritage and historic monuments. Only govemments can create the enabling environment for private investment, community action, and individ- ual initiative. In most successful cases over the last decade, national and local authorities made sweeping policy changes to adopt market-driven develop- ment strategies to attroct long-term investments to historic neighborhoods. Such government intervention is needed to create the public-private partner- ships critical to encourage private investment in ways whereby the quality of the public realm as a whole can exceed the sum of its parts. Michel Bonnette deals with the key strategies for sustainable urban preserva- tion, underlining that successful management of historic cities requires citi- zen participation in planning and decisionmaking that is fully understood and collectively endorsed. Fundomental decisions on urban conservation are made by local political leaders and are very sensitive to pressure groups. Bonnette suggests that this is part of the process of continuity, a concept that heritage plonners and conservationists believe to be a strong basis for good conserva- tion management practices. He suggests that the assessment of the universal value of a World Heritage City or Site is embedded in people's understanding of world history and their identification with it, and their appreciation of the his- toric and artistic merits of the heritage city. Bonnette proposes a set of work- ing principles for sustainable conservation practice: conservation, valuation, adaptability, continuity andparticipation through documentation. 129 130 Editors' Note Three chapters assess developments in the historic center of St Petersburg, Russio. Blair Ruble contrasts St Petersburg with Leningrad,juxtaposing the imperial capital city with its distinctive baroque city plan and an ensemble of wonderful architecture to the sprawling modern city built during the Soviet period. The subse- quent shift in nomenclature from Leningrad back to St Petersburg poses even greater challenges for those concerned with the preservation of historic and cultural heritage, as well as for those concemed with the fate of the city's residents and its fledgling economy Victor Polishchuk reflects on the challenges posed by propo- nents of urban redevelopment and those opposed to new interventions within the boundaries of the historic city He concludes that conservation should not prevent the emergence of new cultural and architectural expressions in the city Leonid Limonov describes the process adopted to formulate the Strategic Plan of Development for St Petersburg, controsting it with the Soviet plonning system. The plan's main objective, he argues, is to foster a favorable business climate that can stimulate economic growth and attract investment. Preservation of the historic center is part of a larger goal of social and economic development Rahul Mehrotra examines the dual structure of Bombay India. Established by the British as a trade center, the unplanned city grew incrementally and impulsively In the Western section efforts were made to impose a for- mal structure on growth, with perfectly aligned avenues, restricted building heights, and open public gardens. The Indian section was characterized by chaotic, haphazard growth and overcrowding. This classical dual city structure survived until the 1960s, when the sprawl of the traditional bazaarstarted to wear down the physical environment of the center districts and public arcades. Mehrotra describes the role of citizens' groups in the preservation of historic buildings, special planning zones, and fate of the bazaars in Bombay's Victorian arcades. He concludes, 'The challenge in Bombay is to cope with the city's transforming nature, not by inducing orpolar- izing its dualism, but by attempting to reconcile the simultaneous opposites, to see them both as volid." Armaly, Pagiola, and Bertaud use the case of the historic center of Split, Crootia, to research the eco- nomics of investing in heritage. Their task was to estimate the benefits from investments in a cultural heritage project and to analyze the project's costs. Contingent valuation surveys were conducted of both tourists and residents to determine their willingness to pay for the improvements to be made by the project. The authors lay out the detoiled stream of benefits and costs based on project economic assumptions. To support the project's economic viability study they also analyze the urban and real estate dynamics. A detailed conceptuolization of the model and the preparation of the economic analy- sis of a project is presented. Ali Shuaibi examines the impact of 50 years of urbonization and transformations of sacred sites in his- toric cities of Saudi Arabia. He contrasts the emergence of modemity in a traditional society through the physical changes in Mecca (MGkkah Al Mukorramah), Jeddah, and Riyadh, each of which has under- gone a different process of transformation of its urban space and modernization of its architecture. He examines the rapid demographic transition, the influx of worshipers to Mecca during the month of Ramadan, and the enormous number of pilgrims who arrive for the Hajj. These present formidable chal- lenges to the preservation of Mecca's sacred heritage and sites. Soad Eddin Ibrohim oddresses the social context, demographic changes, and historical transformations affecting preservation of the historic Cairo. While the population of Greater Cairo tripled in the last cen- tury to exceed 10 million people, the city proper grew from two square miles to only six square miles in the nineteenth century with the adoption of European-style urban design. The last 50 years have been characterized by a veritable explosion in both population and surface area, with the expansion and transitions largely determined by internal movements of wealthy and middle-class families into sprawl- ing new neighborhoods, while the low-income workers or "underclass" remain in the historic cen ter The latter are 40 percent of the urban population. The influences of radical fundamentalism are a serious threat to both the physical and the social fabric of the city Ibrahim concludes thot to attempt historic preservation without understanding the social fabric and involving the people leads to eventual failure. Social inclusion is the key to successful urban development and conservation. Strategies for Sustainable Urban Preservation wo of the most complex but fundamental tasks in managing his- Michel Bonnette toric cities are finding the right approach to urban conservation and ensuring that all the actors involved in the planning and ner,scienttfic drector ofathe Organzation decisionmaking understand and support it. of World Heritage Cities in Quebec, choir of the ICOMOS Historic Towns Committee, ond its representotive on the ICOMOS Writing legislation, making expertise available, and designing and imple- nternationol Committee on Historic Towns menting programs are but some of the tools historic city managers and nd Villoges (ClWIH). heritage planners can use to support their approaches to urban conser- vation. The real challenge is to define an approach and have all the actors, from top city officials to local citizens, agree to it and comply with it when they intervene in the city's urban heritage. This involvement of all actors has proven to be an ongoing exercise, as new people and new trends impact on decisionmaking and change the setting of policies and priorities sometimes faster than one can react to. I remind myself to never underestimate a political leader's capacity to decide against the obvious, and that nothing is more fragile and weak than his or her "strong beliefs." Fundamental decisions on urban conser- vation are made by local political leaders who are very sensitive to pres- sure groups and lobbyists. This is part of the game of continuity, a con- cept we heritage planners and conservationists often refer to as a strong basis for good conservation management practices. Continuity is a characteristic of the change process to which even his- toric cities are subject because they are living bodies (figure 1). If we do not agree that historic cities are living bodies and if we do not allow them to change and adapt to new lifestyles and new standards of living, then we sentence them to die, to be disregarded as artifacts of an old age, an exhibit of objects from another era, a museum. Who wants to live in a museum? The authorities who bear the responsibility for the preservation of his- toric districts are challenged, and to some extent condemned, to square 131 13z Av1.8l,chr ! ,n' r~~ F --- < c,. 1_ S , _- Figure 1. St. Petersburg Palace Square, the circle. On the one hand they are asked to preserve the authenticity formed by the Winter Palace and the General Staff Building. The uses of this and integrity of the city's historic fabric and to preserve the structures carefully preserved monumental square and events that bear witness to its past. On the other they have to face have evolved. This Sunday basketball tournament organized by the city and the pressure of change and allow these objects of memories to be altered sponsored by commercial firms attracts and to adapt to better respond to the new needs and realities of con- hundreds of athletes and thousands of spectators. temporary living. To illustrate this dilemma, a Russian friend of mine uses a drawing showing a flying snail. Imagine the weight of this responsibility on the shoulders of those who are involved in preserving cities listed as World Heritage. This is not just local heritage anymore. It is everyone's common heritage, and our chil- dren's and our children's children's heritage, the memory of humankind. These cities have been listed to be preserved for eternity, and they are now put under the spotlight of the tourism industry. That's good, says one mayor; it creates jobs and brings in new money. With this money we can rehabilitate our heritage. If this scenario works well and brings in a lot of money, then perhaps we can do a little more and make our her- itage look even better than it has ever been, beautify it. We can fill in some empty lots with new old buildings or rebuild lost buildings that have disappeared because people at the time, quite unfortunately, did not have our knowledge and our deep understanding of their importance as part of our city's history, says the mayor. Perhaps some of it was destroyed by war or by earthquake or because the symbolism it carried no longer fit the ideals of certain political regimes. struoeples for Sustinablc 'Jrb&n Preservao,on How long will people believe in the preservation of our old cities if we find out that much of the preservation is fake? What will our 300-, 400-, 500-year-old historic cities look like in 100 years if there are no framework or guidelines to govern what can be done to preserve them while keeping them alive and lively? These guidelines are the components of a global approach to urban con- servation. My focus is those that are fundamental to the practice of con- servation in an urban context, more specifically, in historic districts. In most of the many cities around the world that have been designated as historic cities, very few of the local people understand or even have any knowledge of what this concept means. If one asks them to explain how they perceive the historical value of their town and what exactly that designation refers to, one hears many different and sometimes con- tradictory answers. Ask the local citizens' committee for safeguarding the historic district and compare its answers to those from the chamber of commerce or the tourist and convention bureau. For the historian the historical value of a site is linked to its significance and its capacity to sustain a community's memory. But the historian may argue that the archeologist is destroying the historical value of a site when he or she is digging down deep to dis- cover and pull out from the soil all its valuable artifacts. For the entrepreneur the historic city is a work site, and its value rises if there is a great deal to do, whether demolishing, renovating, or building. For the artist the old city with its narrow and uncomfortable streets and dilapidated buildings is a symbol of life and inspiration, a palette of col- ors, a place for blues. Owners of historic houses spend their money making sure the boarding, the windows, and the doors of their houses are in perfect shape and look new. Yet when they travel, they take pictures of houses that look actu- ally old. Where does this historical value lie? Is there only one or are there many? I once was involved in planning for underground parking on a slope. In the middle of the property a chunk of rock stuck out from the grass. Some neighborhood children came to us asking what would happen to their rock. This was their magical rock they said. This was where they held their secret meetings. This rock was meaningful to them and would be forever a part of their childhood memories. We were giving this piece of property in the city's historic district an eco- nomic value that was destroying someone else's feeling of belonging to a city with deep roots in the past. How many of these memory-loaded 34 Michel Bonnette objects or places are we architects, engineers, and planners destroying every day? When we contemplate a World Heritage city, where does its universal value lie? The World Heritage Convention says that to be listed as a World Heritage Site, a historic site needs to show universal value. This means that all World Heritage Sites bear witness to our world's history, that each one of them is significant to all of us in understanding the state of our presence on Earth. That is obvious with the Pyramids, with Rome and Athens, but what about Bergen, Cuzco, or Quebec City? What do they mean to the world? Managing the preservation of a World Heritage city or of any historic city means preserving its value for the next generations to understand and appreciate. It is therefore the first duty of the people responsible to clearly assess and define these values and to share their views on these fundamental matters with those concerned-the local community first, the actors of the conservation process from top to bottom, and the visi- tors. Only then is it possible to act from a common vision. When the heritage planner knows which values are to be preserved-the universal value, the national values, the community values-it is possible to secure a long-term vision of the city's historic district's conservation project. This can be achieved only by someone with a great capacity to understand and integrate all aspects of urban life, including a deep con- cern for expressing the city's past and using it to build its future. This exercise can be achieved only by someone who thinks very strategi- cally, is very sensitive to the expression of needs and trends, and has a great capacity for leadership to be able to communicate and win over authorities as well as the community to his or her vision. Vision means both vertical and horizontal integration. By vertical integration I mean integrating the concept of and the con- cern for heritage conservation at all levels of planning and decisionmak- ing, from the policymaking and strategic planning to the master plan- ning, from neighborhood planning to site planning, to disaster planning, and into legislation, programs, and project design. Horizontal integration means infiltrating all sectors of urban activity- from politics to social, cultural, and economic development-with a con- cern for heritage. For optimal stewardship it is a clear target that her- itage preservation should become a fundamental component of govern- mental policies and programs regarding housing, transportation, com- mercial and industrial development, environment, tourism, recreation, and leisure, not only with respect to historic districts but for the whole city and the whole country. Strategies for Sustainable Urban Preservotion 135 If one checks the literature pertaining to urban planning in any one his- toric city and finds the word "heritage" written everywhere, there is a good chance that the concept is well integrated in the minds of the local people and in the city's decisionmaking process. If not, to achieve the vision, there is a need for a set of guidelines. Many rely on legislation, grants, and some technical support. Although I do not deny the benefit of those tools, I personally argue in favor of setting some tracks for others to follow. This not only guaran- tees that the vision will be achieved but also facilitates understanding by others of what the conservation project is about, where it is going, and how it is run. There are many ways to set up guidelines. From numerous charters and rec- ommendations that have been adopted and printed over the past 30 years, I have retained 4 main ideas or principles that I used during the years I head- ed the conservation program of the City of Quebec, plus one. 1. Conservotion. In principle, everything included in a historic district should be preserved as is. Like a puzzle, to understand the whole, the pieces are needed. To understand the evolution and history of the whole, all the pieces should remain in the same state as they were when the whole was designated a historic district. It should be agreed that the first option for any work to be undertaken on any component of an historic district should favor its conservation. This will lead to some difficult decisionmaking. For example, to what extent should a building be renovated? Should all contemporary addi- tions be saved? Can the asphalt-covered cobblestones of the old streets be re-exposed? Should the telephone and hydro lines be kept hanging from leaning wood poles? Should the 1960 rusted commercial signs be preserved as witnesses of a city's past? The idea of saving everything carries the obligation to debate what can be done with unstable, unaesthetic, and useless structures, as well as how much preservation and restoration work can be carried out on spe- cific structures to secure their authenticity and integrity. 2. Valuation. This brings us back to values. Perhaps what is most signifi- cant needs full protection and close surveillance during the restoration process. Perhaps less significant structures can be modified to adapt to new uses and new conditions. Perhaps those with very little significance could be demolished to make space for new buildings or for new open spaces. Age, style, artistic qualities, authenticity, integrity, uniqueness, occupation, and state of conservation are criteria that can help to set the value of a structure or a site and to classify it under a category from which it is then possible to set standards for its protection. 136 Michel Bonnette 3. Adaptability If the historic city is allowed to change, then its individ- ual components must also be allowed to adapt to fit new contemporary living standards. In most countries the interior of private buildings can- not be subjected to any legislation except what concerns the security or health of the inhabitants. Therefore, owners of historic houses that are not listed as individual monuments are free to do as they wish. Adaptability is then seen as a positive approach to conservation. It offers historic homeowners the capacity for change, while providing an oppor- tunity for some discussion with the conservation staff to avoid unneces- sary and sometimes disastrous work on the historic fabric of the house with consequent loss of value. 4. Continuity. In the process of change new structures have to be built to fill in empty lots or to replace dilapidated or unrecoverable buildings, and new landscape designs have to be integrated in the historic fabric of the city. Different attitudes are therefore possible, from imitation to contrast, from indifference to harmony, from pastiche to opposition. Any new building or new landscape design in any historic district should be clearly contemporary aesthetically as well as technically, but historic districts are no place for architectural acrobatics, unless perhaps the architect is Frank Gehry or Antoni Gaudi. New designs should always fit the unique and very delicate settings of historic cities like a glove fits the hand. Any new building or landscape in a historic district should carry the best of its time, as it is going to remain forever, in principle at least, a testimony to the wisdom and talent of the people of its time. What is expected is honest, aesthetically beautiful, and technically clever design. 5. Participation through documentation. Finally, I would like to set as one of the fundamental aspects of a good approach to urban conserva- tion the involvement and participation of the local people in the process. Over the last 30 years the concept of monument has grown from the individual building to the historic district to the cultural landscape. Slowly but surely, we will reach the concept of the ecosystem, in which it will become obvious that the preservation of a site, even a city as a his- toric city, can occur only if it is possible to preserve its environment and all the activities that have traditionally supported the life of the site. Why preserve the fisherman's town if the river is allowed to go dry or if the industrial plant upstream is allowed to pollute the river and kill the fish? In this more holistic perspective heritage preservation will need to be tackled not only by governments but by all the people. Heritage preser- vation is changing to be no longer a government initiative but a com- munity project. For this reason it is so important to support a communi- ty with the best information available. Citizens can do only as well as they are knowledgeable. Strotegies for Sustainoble Urban Preservation 137 When they are educated in depth about the history and consequent value of their properties and feel well supported in taking up their stew- ardship, owners of historic properties can be extraordinarily supportive to heritage planners and restoration architects. Documentation is central to involving individual citizens in any urban conservation initiative.' Note 1 The Organization of World Heritage Cities has developed a computer tool called UrbaVista to integrate, disseminate, and network multimedia databas- es related to the management of urban historic areas. The UrbaVista network is accessible from the OWHC homepage http://www.ovpm.org/ovpm/eng- lish/urbavis.html. The organization also is setting up regional secretariats to better link to its membership, which numbered 150 cities in 63 countries in 1998 with an expected 15 new members each year. St. Petersburg's Pasts Compete for Its Future Blair A. Ruble n a white night in June St. Petersburg inspires. The neoclassi- * cal facades of Peter the Great and Catherine the Great's tal- I,,:ur 4 H, j Rcrecc lo r the enncr, ented architects bespeak an age long past. Detached from lm,7sttct for Advinc-cd Ru,s,crn Stud!as_ c.t'tle Atonodrci' V fWsjr lneirnatUona_ their Imperial purpose, the grand palaces, churches, ministries, Conlr r ~c i t !arsC'O'i !ashwgton, D.C., and military headquarters that formed Petersburg's monumen- tal core now appear to be cozy and domestic in comparison to so much that has followed since 1917 (figure 1). Families and tourists mix, munching ice cream cones; clusters of slight- ly inebriated youth play out the latest mating rituals; pick-up bands per- form; and even a poet or two can be heard to shout. A muted northern light magically transforms St. Petersburg into the cities of its past. To walk along a Petersburg canal in June is to be lost in any century but our own. It is to be lost in a "cultural playground." Monumental St. Petersburg represents the best of planned European urban space. Walking around the historic city on a white night evening, one can believe all the myths about its being "a window on the West," a Figure 1. Palace Square city of elegance and humanity, the center of Russian democracy and lib- in St. Petersburg, a monumental civic space, is defined by the General Staff eralism (figures 2, 3). Building and the Winter Palace. This print depicts the dedication One can easily believe that St. Petersburg is a heroic city, staunchly ceremony of the A exandre I column in 1836. defending Culture and Civilization. The Petersburg Ballet is the best in the 138 St. Petersburg's Posts Compete for Its Future 139 -kAj lit~~~~~~~~~~d Figure 2. A protected historic monument, Smolny Convent was built in the Russian -. baroque style by Italian architect =Francesco Bartolomeo Rastrelli, St. Petersburg, 1748-56. world, its theaters the best in Russia, its poets the primary interpreters of the Russian soul. One can understand how one of those poets, Nobel lau- reate Joseph Brodsky, when writing about the use of "Peter" as the city's nickname, would say, "This choice of moniker is a further degree of domes- tication." "Peter," Brodsky wrote, "suggests a certain foreign-ness and sounds congenial." How could one not think about preserving this beauti- ful cityscape and about viewing the city as an economic asset? Yet Peter's fragile northern light distorts as much as it illuminates. Nothing in Petersburg is as it seems. In his 1913 symbolist novel named after the city, Andrei Belyi eloquently captured the unique quality of Petersburg light when he wrote, "The streets of Petersburg possess one indubitable quality-they transform figures of passersby into shadows." Soviet Period Petersburg is a city of shadows, and those shadows became ever more real during the Soviet period. The city's population declined from 2.3 mil- lion in 1917 to 720,000 in 1920 as a result of the Russian Civil War. Figure 3. A protected historic monument, the Cathedral of Ascension, or the Savior of7 the Blood, w~as built in R jssarr Nationalist style (Revival) by Russian architect Alfred Parland, St. Petersburg, 1883-1907. Pre-World War I population and economic levels were not re-attained until well into the 1930s, after Stalin launched his national five-year rapid industrialization plan in 1929. But the city that was coming into being was a very different city than what existed before. Leningrad exploded in the 1930s as peasants fled a countryside devastat- ed by militarized collectivization. They fled into all Soviet cities, into heavy industrial plants surrounding pre-industrial, pre-Soviet cities. By 1939 Leningrad's population stood at 3.4 million. But more important, the sin- gle metropolitan area had been shattered. There was no longer a St. Petersburg. There was no longer one city. Indeed, this metropolis came to embrace two quite distinct realities: that of the historic center and the pre-revolutionary values it embodied and that produced it, which became known in shorthand as "Petersburg"; and that of the new Soviet industrial St Petersburg's Pasts Compete for Its Future 141 city, which surrounded the historic city and represented all the values of the Soviet Union and rightly came to be called "Leningrad." The worlds of Petersburg and Leningrad have stood in opposition to one another ever since. That opposition is seen in cultural, economic, and political wars that remained deeply buried under the screen of authori- tarian control until the late 1980s, when they burst forth. The conflict between Petersburg and Leningrad continues to bubble to the surface. It infuses tension into everyday life in the city. This is the point at which practice, reality on the ground, and philosophy meet. It is a battle- ground that is much larger than local legislation about historic preserva- tion. It is larger than the city itself. Yes, we need to talk about specific legislation in specific contexts, but preser- vation often raises issues that transcend the community and the city, and that involve national and international politics as well. Unless we place leg- islative acts within such larger political context-both national and in some cases international-the legislation will have no impact whatsoever. The city's Stalinist growth hardly benefited the traditional Petersburg of myth. City planners moved to abandon the historic city altogether for a more grand, neoclassical Stalinist town center to be built on higher ground south of the Neva delta. One can see portions of the city as one drives in from Pulkovo Airport along Moskovskii Prospect, which was built and was the center of the plan. This boulevard was to replace his- toric Nevskii Prospect as the city's main street. Post-World War 11 The German blockade during World War II ended these plans. By the late 1940s a tattered Petersburg still stood, broken down and impoverished, yet largely intact. Stalinist hostility turned into more benign neglect. Propaganda points could be scored by a Soviet regime seen as recon- structing buildings destroyed by the Wehrmacht a few years before. A new local leadership could care less about the historic city, as it wanted to build a first-rate center of defense industry. So Petersburg remained, receding ever more into the background of an increasingly provincial Soviet factory town. Leningrad was emerging as predominant. A turning point came in the battle between Petersburg and Leningrad dur- ing the Leningrad Affairs of 1948 and 1949. There were extensive purges against associates of former Leningrad party chief Andrei Zhdanov, elimi- nating any remnants of an independent local political elite. The new polit- ical team was oriented toward Moscow and toward creating defense industries that could support the Red Army. They bound the city's future to 142 B/air A. Ruble the city's heavy industrial plant and to the city's local scientific research centers, which became ever more oriented toward military innovation. This was a major change in policy, but it is not to be found in any legis- lation. This was a transformation that very much affected how the city would develop. But once again, such a shift suggests that legislation, although important, is embedded in a much larger context. The result was a new Soviet city appropriately named "Leningrad," a community that was in opposition to everything that Petersburg had stood for. Leningrad Frol Kozlov vigorously advocated this new Leningrad throughout the 1950s, initially as local party boss and later as First Deputy Prime Minister of the Soviet Union. He envisioned a local community focused around a handful of technologically specialized defense industries. The city would serve as an innovator and producer of high-quality industrial goods tied to the defense effort. This economy, of course, now lies in ruins, and has undermined much of the city's prospects for the future. Yet we should not be overly dismissive of Kozlov's vision. By the mid- 1970s Leningrad led the Soviet Union on a per capita basis in the annu- al economic impact of technologies; the number of new types of machines being created; and the number of new, automated production lines. By the early 1980s nearly 10 percent of all new Soviet production technologies were developed in Leningrad. This Soviet Leningrad imposed an enormous aesthetic cost. The city attracted tens of thousands of migrants from across the Soviet Union to work in Kozlov's new defense plants and research institutes. By 1951 an average of 3.3 families lived in each Leningrad apartment. Following the lead of Nikita Khrushchev's new housing program in the late 1950s, city officials addressed the housing problems; and they were innovators. They developed industrialized construction techniques that became the model for the entire socialist world. Looking at any Soviet- era concrete apartment block from Prague to Pyongyang, one will see the footprint of Leningrad across the globe. Once again, these construction plans were not to be seen in legislation; not in legislation as we understand it. Indeed, again, the practice in Leningrad demonstrates the limits of legislation. Local planners turned to vacant sites beyond the city's traditional boundaries in the search for land for their new housing projects. Over time, as they developed on new land, the city expanded as a coral reef builds up on itself. The city expanded more than 100-fold from a late nineteenth-century walking town of 105 square kilometers in 1917 to a St Petersburg's Pasts Compete for Its Future 143 massive metropolitan agglomeration extending over 1,300 square kilo- meters by 1980. People eventually followed housing out of the city center. The percent- age of the total population of the city living in traditional central dis- tricts declined from over 50 percent in 1959 to less than 20 percent by 1980. This is the city that one speaks of trying to restore. Meanwhile, people were inhabiting these new Khrushchev- and Brezhnev-era Leningrad apartments on the outside of the city (figures 4A, 4B). Tension between these two distinct urban realities simmered under the surface until Gorbachev and Glasnost came along. Pitched battles erupt- ed between everything that traditional Petersburg represented and everything that new Soviet Leningrad represented. This divide rose to the surface in the mid-1980s and would change the course of local history and perhaps national history as well. Tensions exploded in 1986 as discussions over the quality of urban life began to dominate local politics. In the summer of 1986 the Leningrad = _- .~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A Figures 4A, 4B. Apartment buildings constructed on Vasilyevsky Island, St. Petersburg, in the 1970s and 1980s during the Brezhnev era. Ill_k w j > * *G, . I 11[ X t i|~|st: i , * =, - 144 BicirA. Rub6e Division of the Union of Architects, which was a monopolistic profes- sional organization for local architects, held a very stormy Congress at which delegates excoriated local leaders for their past mistakes. Local architects used the forum to decry what had happened to the city and to suggest that the only way the city could be changed and salvaged in the future was through the creation of a higher urban planning culture, which could be rediscovered from the traditional core city. Not only professional architects were involved in this. Politicians and people on the streets also turned a debate over aesthetics and historic preservation into a discussion of the future of the Soviet Union. In March 1987 scaffold- ing went up around two of the city's most historic hotels-the Astoria and the neighboring Anglatera. From the bar of the Astoria John Reed had watched the Bolshevik Revolution unfold, and in room number 5 of the Anglatera, poet Sergei Yevsenin had committed suicide, writing a last verse in his own blood. Immediately following the appearance of construction equipment around these two hotels, the local newspapers began to get phone calls asking what was going on. As it became clear what was happening, hundreds, even thousands, of demonstrators began to show up day and night, shout- ing "Save our monuments, save the history of our city." Out of these demonstrations emerged a vibrant democratic movement, which would eventually bring down Communist power in Leningrad. The genie was out of the bottle. National, local, and international politics began to coalesce in a potent mix around the issue of historic preservation. What exactly is the meaning of this city of "St. Petersburg?" What is its meaning for Petersburg, and what is its meaning for Russia as a whole? Post-Soviet Period The grassroots movement that emerged out of these battles voted every senior Communist Party leader out of office in 1989, an election which broke the back of Communist domination throughout much of the Soviet Union. Since that time Leningraders and Petersburgers have played an important role in liberal politics and democratic politics throughout Russia. Everywhere else, opposition to the August 1991 Communist coup was really much less than it seemed at the time; not so in Leningrad, where one-third of the city's population crowded into Palace Square in front of the Hermitage Museum. August 1991 was a genuine revolution- ary moment in this city-it was Petersburg rebelling against Leningrad- and the subsequent renaming of the city was more than symbolism. It was the reemergence of a metropolitan community that had been driv- en far underground in the recesses of Soviet reality. These events took on national and international significance as people who participated in that movement, such as Anatoly Chubais and many St. Petersburg's Pasts Compete for Its Future 145 other reformers who have become familiar to us, emerged to positions of national power. But again, the issue was really politics. It was politics at a national level, at the local level, at the international level that tran- scended efforts to enact legislation. Legislation is important but only if it can be enforced. The city's realities are never quite so simple as they appear on a June evening when every- body is enjoying the "cultural playground" of St. Petersburg. They are never so simple as changing a street name or changing the name of a city, because what has happened over the history I have just described is that Petersburg can no longer exist without Leningrad. Its economic base is too small, its population too limited, its physical plant too much in need of extensive repair. "Petersburg" cannot rely on its own resources, while the Russian nation- al economy has collapsed. "Leningrad," cannot exist unless it can break out of its Soviet mold. Such issues really are not local; they are nation- al. What better model of a post-Soviet future can there be than the starkly beautiful, if decrepit, imperial city lying in Leningrad's midst? After the hotly contested 1996 mayoral election in which Vladimir Yakovlev, the deputy mayor at the time, defeated internationally known incumbent Anatoly Sobchak, the city moved toward trying to develop the kind of planning structure that would permit the enactment and enforcement of the kind of legislation we are discussing today. Bridging the Gap between St. Petersburg and Leningrad Importantly, the city's custodians began to understand that there could be no Petersburg without Leningrad, and vice versa. A slow but steady bridging of the gap that began in 1917 commenced. Planners tried to develop strategies that would meld two very distinct yet entwined urban realities. Their strategies became most apparent in a new strategic plan for St. Petersburg ratified in 1998. That plan came into existence within the framework of the World Bank-assisted project for the rehabilitation of the historic city center. It is very important for understanding what legislation can and cannot do. It provides the context within which the legislation that will determine the details of historic preservation can take place. As much of an achievement as the city's new strategic plan may be, problems of politics and economic decline remain. The City Council has been rent by factions that do not relate to historic preservation issues but have immobilized local legislative process. The Russian State is weak and collapsing. The Russian national budget is one one-hundredth of the United States' federal budget. Where is the money to undertake all the plans and dreams that can be put into legislative acts? Blair A. Ruble Legislation is important but it is also necessary to look at legislation in its political and economic contexts. The city's new strategic plan provides a realistic approach to saving the cityscape, to saving that "cultural play- ground" that everybody can enjoy on a white evening. It points in the right direction in arguing that, to make these plans reality, there needs to be a comprehensive approach. This approach should bring together the old city and the new city, recognize the value of historic preservation while speaking of the importance of a vital metropolitan economy, and provide the basis for melding public and private interests between the local state and the local business community. At the end of this very tortuous century for one of the world's great cities, the St. Petersburg model underscores the importance of viewing the preservation of historic cities and sacred places as part and parcel of overall regional development strategies. It may be that Europeans will be working 3 days a week with 5-day salaries, but it is unlikely that anybody in Petersburg will receive 5-day salaries for 3 days of work. Indeed, at the moment many people in St. Petersburg receive 3 days' salary for 6 days' work. This is an important reality that underlies the need to try to save historic and sacred places in these sorts of contexts. None of these trends is exclusive of another. What the muted northern light of St. Petersburg shows is that the shadows can blend. These vari- ous components can come together, and the lessons of twentieth-centu- ry St. Petersburg become not necessarily what one might think about as one walks around Palace Square on a June evening. St. Petersburg's fate in this new century is about complexity. It illustrates the importance of the historic and the sacred in today's world, while sounding a cautionary note about the limits of the possible. U Development and Preservation of the Historic Center of St. Petersburg t. Petersburg may not be considered a typical Russian city. After Victor E. Polishchuk all, it was designed and planned by Italian, French, English, and S German architects. However, for more than 200 years it was the VictorE. Plishchuk is an architect, planner, and designer; since 1992, he has worked capital of the Russian Empire. with the St. Petersburg CityAdministration Commitee for City Planning and St. Petersburg is a large metropolis with an estimated 5 million inhabi- Architecture, rootCrdecb.kga.neva.ru tants. As in any great world capital the city faces difficult challenges. One of these is to find solutions for its future development. Another is how to reconcile new construction and the preservation of its unique ensemble of historic buildings. St. Petersburg has universal historical and cultural importance not only because of its extraordinary artistic and architectural treasures but also due to its being symbolically the bridge between East and West. The city was founded in 1703 by Peter the Great as a "window to the West" from a coun- try that had been cut off from Europe for centuries. The "Grandfather of the City" selected a strategic location on the mouth of the Neva River delta and the Bay of Finland to build his new capital. The city was laid out as a sys- tem of islands and canals, with the civic center built along the waterfront. The urban scale was monumental, appropriate to such a vast country. The Palace Square was in the center of the Empire's capital. The General Staff building, an architectural complex that housed the High Command of the Army during the Empire, and the ensemble of buildings on Rossi's Street were designed and built by Carlo Rossi, an Italian architect (figure 1). St. Isaac's Cathedral and the Alexandre I column at the Palace Square were designed and built by Auguste Montferrand, a French architect (figures 2, 3). These are only a few examples of the monumental architectural ensem- bles of historic, cultural, and aesthetic value in the city. Valued by the inter- national community, they are also inscribed on the World Heritage List. We 147 148 VlctorE Polishchuk St -~~~~~~~~~~ Figure 1. Architect Rossi Street (formerly in St. Petersburg are very cautious in the ways we balance preservation, Theatre Street), laid out by Italian archi- tect Carlo . Rosi ;n 1828. The street has rehabilitation, conservation, and future development projects. long expanses of identical facades on both sides with exceptional proportions When looking for solutions or a compromise, I return to my family's expe- built in the neo-classical style. rience. Every city, every country has its public sacred sites. On a personal level Ihave a revered place in my home: the library and my father's desk. A renowned mathematician, he died more than 20 years ago, but I tried to keep all his books and objects in the same position to keep his memory alive. My son is also a mathematician, and my nephew is a physicist. They use my father's books. WVhen they repeatedly did not place them back on the shelves in the same order, I was disappointed and saddened. Finally, after much struggle, I understood that it is more important that these young stu- dents read these books than that they keep them in order. Using the books is more important than keeping some semblance of my father's memory. All cities have similar challenges. How should they combine development and new construction with adequate preservation of historical monu- ments? How can they save the historical shapes of the past-open space, natural environments, and architectural ensembles-without closing the paths to new culture and new architectural styles? St. Petersburg was built as the magnificent capital of the Russian Empire The Baroque and Classical architectural ensembles shaped the image of the capital city of the Tsars. In the late nineteenth century modern archi- tecture, including Art Nouveau and Jugendstil, was introduced and became the first stage of the intervention of new architecture in St Development and Preservation of the Historic Center of St Petersburg 149 Petersburg. On Nevsky Prospect, the main avenue, the buildings had always reflected a variety of styles. Another building boom in the last decade of the nineteenth century grew out of considerable economic progress experienced in the city. The city grew rich and industry devel- oped. Urban plots were sold, and new banks, offices, and apartment buildings were constructed. The advent of the market economy and dem- lll ocratic processes in the 1990s have begun to alter the face of the city. The economic upturn is the basis for a renewal process. The new stage of democratization and reform in Russia is bringing back the town-planning trends that took place at the beginning of the twen- tieth century. The sale of real estate, including historic buildings, and land parcels; the construction of rental units; and the new development -- projects create interventions in the historical environment. Figure 2. St. Isaac's Cathedral built by French architect Auguste Montferrand A good example is the proposed design of a Swiss business center on the between 1818 and 1848 is the largest historical Smolny Embankment. In one neighborhood three distinct epochs church in St. Petersburg. Built in neo-classical style, it has a Greek-cross are unfolding, and three Italian architects will meet. In 1748-64 plan, and each of its facades features an immense columned portico of Finnish Bartolomeo Rastrelli erected the monumental ensemble of the Smolny granite topped by a sculpted pediment. Monastery. In 1806-08 Giacomo Quarengi built the Smolny Institute. In Ihe gilded dome was inspired bybVestern models. 1999 Mario Botta designed an ultra-modern complex for a Swiss business center, which was submitted to the town planning council and received a divided evaluation. Many architects in St. Petersburg interpreted this as a 7 positive step forward, overcoming the excesses of conservatism. Others felt that this project would set a precedent toward "the large projects of St. Petersburg" reminiscent of "the large projects of Paris." As the twentieth century drew to a close, there were no new investments in St. Petersburg and no building boom. For six years I looked out my office window at a cluster of buildings across the quay of the Fontanka River. Most are decaying. Six severe winters have left their traces even on stone and brick. Some builders had intended to "defreeze" one of the sites with the proposed construction of new offices or perhaps a hotel, but the win- ter of 1999 was too cold and no construction was to be seen (figure 4). * Figure 3. Arched gate toward the Palace Square with Alexandre I column. Figure 4. Cluster of buildings of an abandoned reconstruction effort on the embankment of the Fontanka River, St. Petersburg, 1999. Strategic Plan of St. Petersburg Leonid Limonov he main challenge of St. Petersburg is to attract more econom- * ic activities and development, rather than to protect monuments Leonid Limonov is director-coordinator from excessive development. Russian cities have declined and of Reseorch Progrommes at the Leontref d Centre, linternotional Centre forSocial suffer from lack of public funding. Meanwhile, the Soviet and Economic Research, St. Petersburg, Russia, limonovCaleontiefru arrangement of ascribing responsibility for the wide range of activities related to the preservation of cultural heritage and monuments to the authority of the State has been exhausted and is no longer viable. This essay reviews three alternative modalities of private investment in monument preservation. In the first model work is done incidentally by the elite, but this is neither sustainable nor profitable investment. The second model is national policy on heritage preservation with state fund- ing or subsidies for state programs. This model also is not sustainable due to financial uncertainties. The third model is to initiate public-private partnerships and attract private investment in more sustainable, long- term cooperation. Ironically, St. Petersburg is moving from the second phase to the first, rather than to the third. The main challenge is how to promote public- private partnerships in the current environment, in which state funds have dried up and engaging private investment is essential. The future of St. Petersburg's historical monuments and sites is only part of a much larger problem of the deteriorating living conditions and well being of the residents of the City Center and its visitors. The City Master Plan, prepared during the Soviet period and based on command and control, clearly became inadequate during the economic transition. To promote market-driven development, the City of St. Petersburg needed a new vision and planning and management instru- ments. A new Strategic Plan was introduced to achieve greater develop- ment effectiveness. First it aims to set up partnerships. Second, the plan defines strategic objectives and programs to set priority actions linked to the public investment program (figure 1). 150 Strategic Plan of St. Petersburg 151 t~~~~~~~~~~~ ,r,.* 'Iv ; I I Gult f otldd The planning process was based on the new principle of involving, to the Figure 1. Map of Zones of Urban greatest possible extent, the participation of all stakeholders in working iDevhelopint nde construction committees. It was developed jointly by the city administration and 250 St. Petersburg, 1997 principal stakeholders, representing a broad spectrum of organizations. A World Bank-assisted project to rehabilitate the historic center helped to generate momentum for a reform-minded group of experts working closely with city officials to prepare the terms of reference for the Strategic Plan for Development of St. Petersburg. The fundamental differences between the new Strategic Plan and the typical Soviet planning documents are: 1. The Strategic Plan does not contain detailed instructions (assign- ments) as to who should produce how much of what and for whom. It is a plan of action carefully chosen on the basis of a system of goals adopted by consensus broadly representing the city's commu- nity. Each project and measure contained in the plan, whether investment, organizational, legal, or informal, contains indices that make it possible to monitor and evaluate the success of its imple- mentation and its effects. 2. The Strategic Plan is not a long-term planning document. All meas- ures in it demand either immediate or short-term implementation. In this context "strategic" does not refer to the long term but only to importance. The word underscores the fact that the plan is not 152 Leonid Limonov Figure 2. Rebuilding the public tram sys- all-encompassing but concerns only the strategically most important tern and preserving historic buildings in tne historic center of St. Petersburg, 1999. problems, for which it proposes the most essential actions (figure 2). 3. The Strategic Plan is not a law. From the legal standpoint the Strategic Plan is a contract in which the different branches of power, business circles, public organizations, and others make a commit- ment to promote jointly realization Of strategic projects and other measures. In sum, the Strategic Plan is a contract of public consent, the instrument of an organized community of interests, which includes authorities, business community and city's residents, work- ing through a process of consultations and public hearings with a high degree of transparency. 4. The Strategic Plan identifies a set of priority objectives: cultural and city center revitalization; development of the city, including the sea- port, into a transport hub, as a gateway into Europe; economic devel- opment through improving the business climate by making regulations and requirements more transparent and facilitating procedures; and public safety, which includes environmental health issues. In December 1997 the Strategic Plan of St. Petersburg was completed and approved by the General Council, and was officially launched by the city's Legislative Assembly. The main goal of the new strategy is to estab- lish a favorable business climate in St. Petersburg. The plan recognizes that the city's business climate must stimulate economic growth and become the main factor in attracting resources to and investments in St. Petersburg. To transform the business conditions and to make full use of Strategic Plon of St. Petersburg 153 the productive elements of labor, land, and capital, the proposed strate- gic objectives of the Plan consist of measures aimed at improving: * Conditions for entrepreneurial activity in a competitive environment * The local taxation system by lowering tax burden, while collecting more effectively * Real estate and city planning regulations * Labor markets and labor relations * Mobilization of investment funds on the capital markets. U Bazaars in Victorian Arcades: Conserving Bombay's Colonial Heritage Rahul Mehrotra ombay was not an indigenous Indian city. It was built by the Rahul MehrotrG is the principalt of Raul British expressly for trade. Like settlements that are not Mehrotra Associates. architects and rb,an expected to become large towns, it was not planned. It came designers, in Bombay, and fnder of the into being with every step of its growth being impulsive and omboay Colloboratile, a conservation _ architecturol practice that consults on his- incremental. In its form it expressed the idea of the city as a toric buildings, rohu1@born3.vsnLnetin field of human enterprise. The result is that Bombay is many cities-cities within cities that have their own distinct architectural characters. Bombay is a conglomerate of precincts, sacred sites, vernacular architec- ture, and ethnic neighborhoods. Structuring the Core The advantage of this open-ended development was that correction and adaptations could be made to real needs and perceived deficiencies in the physical environment as the city evolved. The most significant such adaptation was made during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries when the colonial government reshaped the city through a series of distinct, planned architectural and urban design projects. The old Fort Area of Bombay got particular attention in the renewal process, because besides marking the origin of Bombay as a city, this area had always been the commercial center and is today a symbolic center of the Bombay Metropolitan Region. The renewal of the Fort Area dates to 1864, when the removal of the for- tifications that surrounded the city was finished. Removal of the ramparts symbolized a change of purpose for Bombay, which no longer needed to serve as a land-based defense fort and whose growth as a prosperous trad- ing and manufacturing city had been constrained by the fortifications. Removal also precipitated a strategic plan to restructure the city center 754 Bozaars in Victorian Arcades: Conserving Bombay's Colonial Heritage 155 that included widening and improving roads, adding new open spaces, Figure 1. The High Court and Rajabai constructing public buildings, and imposing urban design standards. Tower, grano oubtic buildings that were reclaimed by demolition These renewal efforts projected perhaps the first such urban design ges- of the fortification. ture in colonial India. At the western edge of the Fort Area, along the Back Bay waterfront, several public buildings were put up on land made vacant by the removal of the fortifications. In fact, the government used every opportunity to use buildings and infrastructure to establish a cohesive urban form that responded to the unprecedented increase in commerce, industry, and political power that Bombay experienced (figure 1). Dual City However, simultaneously Bombay was two separate cities-Western and Indian-with parallel residential, commercial, religious, and recreational areas. In these two separate networks of spaces these different worlds existed with minimal conflict. In the Western quarter all efforts were being made to impose a formal structure on the city-reinforcing the axes, controlling building edges and styles, instituting traffic regulations, and encouraging large corporations to open offices (figure 2). In contrast, the Indian city was characterized by chaotic, haphazard growth and overcrowding. Here, unlike the city center, little control was exercised over the sites being developed for housing or industrial use. Residential, commercial, and religious activity patterns were integrated in a tightly knit urban fabric like a traditional Indian bazaar town (figure 3). 156 Rahul Mehrotro 1 *~~~~~~~*O I. ik~~~~~~~~~~~s ___ _ _ 9 L w _lbr t; ~~~~' '~ bj -b _ Figure 2. The renovated Fort Area This classical, colonial, dual-city structure survived until the 1 960s when was a transplant of a European model replete with buildings, a bandstand, the unprecedented scale of distress migration from rural areas to Bombay and a carriage, and other urban centers completely altered the exclusivity of the two domains. The bazaar became an instrument that absorbed migrants, cushioning their entry to the city, and swept across the city-sprawling along transport lines, slopes of hills, underutilized land, undefined pave- P_ ments, and even the arcades in the Victorian core. I" W- The bazaars blurred beyond recognition the physical segregation of the dual cities. They wove the two worlds together with a system of shop- -|+- . ping and recreation spaces that infused their own architectural and visu- al character wherever they spread. The arcades in particular provided a condition most appropriate for the bazaar. The supporting columns of the arcade gave definition to the amorphous spaces of the bazaar and 2ift - defined the territory of individual hawkers. Thus the bazaar-a chaotic marketplace comprised of shops, stalls, and hawkers-can be seen as the symbolic image and metaphor for the phys- ical state of the Indian city. The chaos and apparent disorder of the bazaar is precisely the quality essential for the survival of vending. More Figure 3. A street scene from the native importantly, physical proximity of seller and buyer symbolizes positive Indian town in Bombay, much like a tradi- tional Indian town. Typica. features are energy, optimism, and a will to survive outside the official system. the carved awnings and bracket as well as the use of the steps and plinth as a The spread of the bazaar into the Fort Area transformed the intensity and buffer zone between the crowded streets and the private inner realms. patterns of use there and began to wear down the physical environment Bazoars in Victorian Arcades: Conserving Bombay's Colonial Heritage 157 MvM ~~~~~- - -S with overlays of an alien imagery and building materials. Today, shrineS Figure 4. Contemporary view of the Fort Area taken from the Rajabai Tower, 1997. and stalls abut the splendid Gothic buildings and fill the spaces in their Except for three or four high-rise buildings, arcades. vercrowdng has atered trffic paterns andmade theclarity he larger urban form and fabric of the arcades. vercrowdng has atered trffic paterns andmade theclarity Fort Area has remained basically intact. of the colonial city unrecognizable. The physical degradation was accelerated by the imposition in 1942 of the Rent Control Act, which froze rents and gave tenants legal protec- tion. As a result, it became uneconomical for landlords to maintain build- ings, which are now subdivided to accommodate the swelling population of the city. Furthermore, the formulation of building regulations such as setbacks and floor-area ratios and their generalization throughout the entire city have resulted in the destruction of the street edge. This has happened in spite of the implicit and explicit rules for building that have been followed in this precinct for the last century (figure 4). Contemporary Context Today in the Bombay Metropolitan Region the Fort Area is seen as the city's financial center. This has occurred despite the Bombay Metropolitan Region Development Authority's (BMRDA) aggressive poli- cies to create a polynucleated structure for the region. The state govern- ment's failure to implement this policy of creating "polycentric growth" has accelerated the concentration and importance of the Fort Area as a financial center, with an increasing number of commercial establish- ments opting to be located here. The 1995 BMRDA survey revealed that RaGru1 Mr hReotru 100,000 new jobs were created in 23 square kilometers in the southern tip of the city between 1981 and 1991! Furthermore, with the recent liberalization policies of the government, multinational corporations, especially banks and investment companies, are opting to locate in the Fort Area, usually in historic buildings. The companies acquire and renovate heritage buildings in order to be locat- ed in a historic environment, which instantly gives them an identity and a connotation of having been around for a while. Simultaneously, to service the city's global clientele including yuppies and expatriates, art galleries, specialty restaurants, boutiques, and travel agencies are appearing rapidly in the Fort Area. Meanwhile, with the additional pressure on the southern tip of the city, the infrastructure in the area is being overstressed to the point of col- lapse-traffic and the physical state of public spaces being the most obvious stressors. Thus, while the Fort Area is becoming a more exciting place to locate in, it is fast deteriorating physically. In response to this deterioration and the resulting demolition of historic buildings in the 1970s and 1980s, some citizen groups took it upon them- selves to list important buildings and petition the government to protect them through legislation. In 1991 the Government of Maharashtra listed approximately 700 buildings, and a draft notification was published. The government list, which recognized and identified primarily individual buildings, did not address safeguarding the physical form of the precinct or the context in which these buildings are situated. Conservation Legislation To counter this shortcoming, the Urban Design Research Institute (UDRI) together with the Bombay Environment Action Group (BEAG) lobbied the government and created detailed studies to petition the state govern- ment to include area conservation legislation as part of the heritage laws for the city. In 1995 this legislation was accepted-the first in the coun- try in which eight areas were designated and seven additional zones identified for protection, with the Fort Area being the largest (approxi- mately 3.5 square-kilometers). Interestingly, of 624 buildings in the final list in Bombay, approximately 200 are located in the Fort Area-a third of conservation-worthy buildings in Bombay! Fifty percent of the total number of Grade I buildings and an almost equal proportion of Grade II buildings are in the Fort precinct. In short, the concentration of listed buildings demanded that the Fort Area be treated as a "Heritage Precinct" with a special designation as a Conservation Zone. By protecting the buildings in the Fort, the city administration takes care of approximately half the city's listed stock. Bazoars in Victoiaon Arcades. Conserving Bombay's Colonio! Heritoge 159 This legislation has been operative for almost four years. Besides the usual grumblings against additional bureaucratic processes, it has drawn virtually no criticism from the builders and landlords. The only criticism, usually voiced informally by citizen groups concerned with heritage and conservation issues, concerns the flexible approach taken toward authentic architectural and material conservation by the implementing authority, in this case the Heritage Conservation Committee, which advises the municipal commissioner. This contrast between general conservation standards and the "more purist approach" is highlighted by the precedents set by the multina- tional banks and financial institutions that increasingly locate in old buildings in the Fort precinct. They are committed to the "complete" restoration of the buildings they occupy. In addition, their financial capacities facilitate conservation projects that, unfortunately for the cit- izen groups, which usually are composed of highly educated upper- income people, are setting benchmarks in conservation standards. This causes the conservation movement to be perceived as elitist and carry- ing financial implications. Over the last several years the legislation has been fully understood, and a number of architects and planners have been facilitating implementa- tion of the legislation. Grappling with the transforming nature of the city and the issues related to conservation of sub-areas in the conservation zone have emerged. Besides achieving improvements in the physical state of the environment, these exercises are shifting the debate from architectural conservation to urban conservation-drawing the conserva- tion movement closer to the planning process. Restoring the Oval Maidan The first sub-area to undergo such a process was a Grade I open space, the historic Oval Maidan (playing ground), which up to 1996 had been under the jurisdiction of the state government. As this is a city-level open space (used chiefly for cricket), local residents do not feel respon- sible for its upkeep. The space had deteriorated to a spot for drug deal- ing, prostitution, and gross misuse. A citizen group, comprising mainly of elderly women residents of the area, petitioned the state government to maintain the space. The state government did not respond, resulting in the citizen group's taking the state government to court. The court ruled in the group's favor and directed the state government to either main- tain the space or hand it over to the citizen group. The citizen group took over this space, after which plans were drawn up for the area and to use money raised to fence the space, put up signage, and introduce a walk- ing track, all within Heritage Conservation Committee guidelines. The walking track became the element by which one could then engage the residents of the area to use the space and look after the space. Besides 760 Rahul Mehrotra effectively using the legislative and judiciary systems to conserve this space, the one intervention of a walking track connected a whole con- stituency to this Grade I open space and engaged it in the conservation process (figure 5). Using Participation to Facilitate an Art District The participatory approach to conservation in Bombay is exemplified by the Kala Ghoda area. The area derives its name from the statue of King Edward seated on his black horse, although this icon no longer exists in the area. With the support of the UDRI a group of young professionals carried out detailed surveys of traffic, land uses, and gallery spaces. They discovered that this area contained the largest concentration of con- temporary art galleries in the country. They formed an association to combine their resources for conservation. The association petitioned the government to officially designate the area an art district. It now hosts an annual art festival whose income is used to improve the area as well as bring attention to its intrinsic values. This process has been success- ful both in raising money as well as initiating the conservation and restoration of both the public spaces and buildings. The Art District bought to the public galleries that had been perceived as elitist. Introducing pavement galleries, holding street activities, trans- forming parking areas into concert spaces with the historic buildings as backdrops created new public space and transitions between existing buildings and the public realms by animating interstitial spaces. It reor- ganized the environment for a new global culture and the localization of phenomena particular to Bombay. Existing components were conceptu- alized differently, initiating a process that has become a model for many other areas in the Fort District as well as in Bombay. In two other projects, the Ballard Estate Area, which is an office district, and the Horniman Circle Area, the formation of associations facilitated people in the areas talking with one another. They pooled their resources to spread improvements more evenly, rather than their being concen- trated in small pockets, resulting in a greater impact and well being of the environments. These four cases in the Fort Area highlight that unless the community is completely engaged in the conservation process, it will not be effective, despite legislation. Similarly, identifying a contemporary purpose or use as the engine to drive this process has been quite successful in facilitat- ing conservation as well as in addressing current realities and issues in these areas. Bazoors in Victorian Arcades: Conserving Bombay's Colonial Heritage 16 Specialized Planning Zones ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Figure 5. View of the restored Oval Maidan with the High Court in the background, Bombay. Breaking large conservation areas like the Fort Area into smaller units reduces the number of interests acting on a particular part of the city. This idea of specialized planning zones versus blanket planning ideas for the city is perhaps the most important lesson that the conservation process of the Fort Area has brought to the planning process in Bombay. Using the heritage legislation, 1977 the state government declared the Textile Mill District of Bombay a special planning zone to save the social and physical fabric of this historic district. This process also brought the fore a fundamental issue of dealing with conservation in post-colonial situations. In these cases the conservation movement invariably grows out of the environmental movement, not out of a cultural desire to preserve historic icons. In fact, for an entire gen- eration of citizens, the Victorian core of the city represents repression and exclusion. The buildings are clearly icons of our colonial past. To oth- ers, the historic center is a bit of the city in which the cohesiveness of urban form and the integration of architecture and urban design create a pleasant, or at least potentially beautiful, environment by sheer con- trast to the laissez-faire growth that characterizes the contemporary Indian urban landscape. In this context conservation approaches have to treat their "object" purely in terms of "building and environment as resource," devoid of its 7 min~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i ~~~ 1..- ,I Figure 6. View of one of the iconographic or symbolic content. Many worlds inhabit the same space ceremonial routes along the Fort Area .rlai in which the i lusion of the Victorian in the city, relating to it and using it in different ways (figure 6). To facil- arcade is basically intact. itate conservation, it is critical that conservation strategies encourage the recycling of buildings. The interplay of this discipline of keeping the external illusion intact while adapting the inside to evolving social needs and contemporary aspirations is worth serious consideration. This process will drain the symbolic import of the edifice while deepening the ties of architecture with contemporary realities and experiences. General architectural interventions can transform a particular urban typology and place it in the service of contemporary life and realities. Bazaars in Victorian Arcades The bazaars in Victorian arcades in the old Fort Area are emblematic of this phenomenon. They not only force a confrontation of uses and inter- est groups but also demand new preservation approaches. For the average Bombay resident the hawker provides a wide range of goods at prices considerably lower than those in local shops. Thus, the bazaars in the arcades that characterize the Fort Area are thriving busi- nesses. For the elites and for conservationists the Victorian core repre- sents the city center, with icons complete. As the city sprawls outward, dissipating the clarity of its form, these images, places, and icons have acquired even greater meaning for these groups as crucial symbols of the city's fast-deteriorating historic image. Consequently, hawking is deemed Bazaars in Octorian Ac cdes: Conserving Bombays Ca/anic/l Herrt age 163 illegal by city authorities, who constantly attempt to relocate the - bazaars (figure 7). The challenge in Bombay is to cope with the city's transforming nature, not by inducing or polarizing its dualism, but by attempting to reconcile simultaneous opposites, to see them both as valid. The existence of two worlds in the same space implies that we must accommodate and over- lap varying uses, perceptions, and physical forms. For example, the arcades in the Fort Area are a special urban component that inherently possess a capacity for reinterpretation. As an architectural or urban design solution, they display an incredible resilience: they can accom- modate new uses while keeping the illusion of their architecture intact. The original use of the arcades was two-fold. First, they established a def- inite position in terms of building-street relationships. Adoption of this Figure 7. View of the Victorian arcade architectural and spatial element mediated between building and street. early in the morning. Hawkers'belongings Second, they were a perfect response to Bombay's climate: they served as are stored in the boxes. a zone protecting pedestrians from both the harsh sun and lashing rains. One design solution might be to re-adapt the functioning of the arcades. They could be restructured to allow for both easy pedestrian movement and hawker activities. They could contain the amorphous bazaar encased in the illusion of the disciplined Victorian arcade. With this sort of planning, com- ponents of the city would have a greater ability to survive because they could be more adaptable to changing economic and social conditions. There are no permanent solutions in an urban landscape charged simul- taneously with duality as well as rapid transformation. At best, we can constantly evolve and invent solutions for present uses and safeguarding the crucial components of our historically important urban hardware. In fact, "Bazaars in Victorian Arcades" could become an authentic symbol of this preferred reality: an urban landscape that internalizes the past for a sustainable future. U X ' ~~~~ko wampp6 Economics of Investing in Heritage: Historic Center of Split his chapter chronicles the birth of a project to restore the his- Maha J. Armaly, toric core of the City of Split, Croatia, and the method of Stefano P. Pagiola, preparing the economic analysis of its costs and benefits. An and Alain Bertaud urban and real estate analysis also is included at the end of the chapter. Mhah1J. Armaly Is an operations officer in chapte. *the Infrastructure Sector Unit in the Europe and Central Asia Region of the World Bank. Split originated from Diocletian's Palace in Split. Built in the early fourth Stefano P. Pagiolo is an economist in the Environment Deportment of the World century A. D., the palace is among the best preserved Roman monuments Bank. Aloin Bertaud, o formerseniorurbon in the world. It has attracted the attention of scholars since the sixteenth development specialist at the Worid Bank, is o consultaint. century and is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site (figures 1-3). The palace remains the living core of the city. Miraculously, the architec- tural fabric of the city has never suffered the physical destruction of wars or natural disasters. This fortunate status has resulted in seventeen cen- turies of building activity during which richly significant architectural structures from all historic periods were erected. The Municipality of Split aims to use the one thousand, seven hundredth anniversary of the palace construction period to undertake an ambitious program of upgrading the City Core. This is being done as a means to improve the quality of lives of the residents and to prepare the city for this new millennium. Project Genesis, Objectives, and Description The City of Split is located on Croatia's Dalmatian coast. The city developed within the walls of the palace of Roman Emperor Diocletian and combines Roman, medieval, and baroque architecture. Unfortunately, many parts of the historic core of Split have deteriorated and are in urgent need of repair. Facing page. The precinct of the Many historic buildings within the core are in poor condition, and some are Diocletian's Palace in Split, Croatia. in danger of collapse. Others are closed to the public. Still others require When the Roman Emperor Diocletian left office around 303 A. D., he moved reconstruction and rehabilitation to reveal their historic and artistic impor- back to his birthplace, where he built a majestic residence in which he lived tance or to increase accessibility to visitors. If nothing is done, many val until his death in 312. As the city around able historic and architectural monuments will become inaccessible to the palace grew, its walls became submerged in a maze of alleys and visitors and lost to future generations. narrow buildings, 1906 photo. 165 7 ahu !. ,Armn!,; 5tftFo P Pcgcolg, wldAI'l,r Brrtowd The Municipality of Split requested World Bank support to rehabilitate the urban historic core of the City of Split. The Bank proceeded to pre- pare the project in cooperation with the Government of Croatia. The municipality indicated that it wishes to be the direct borrower of the loan, which would be possible provided the government provides a guar- antee for the World Bank.' The ultimate objective of the proposed project is to promote an enabling environment for enhanced social, entrepreneurial, and tourist activities in the area. The project would invest in physical improvements of Diocletian's Palace and other significant cultural assets of the city, largely concentrated in the historic core (figure 4). The project cost is estimated at about US$15 million (excluding taxes), of which the Bank would provide $9 million as an International Bank of Reconstruction and Development (IBRD) loan. The project would pursue two complementary objectives. First, it would support the conservation of cultural heritage assets, including rehabili- tation, restoration, and preservation of archaeological sites and historic buildings. Second, it would contribute to the growth of economic activ- ities in the area, such as the creation of new small- and medium-size enterprises and the development of tourism. The extensive program of conservation and restoration in Split's historic core will include: * Completing the excavation of the cellars of Diocletian's Palace and the restoration of areas that have already been excavated, making the entire substructure accessible to visitors. Work in the cellars will include rehabilitation of the Roman sewer system. * Undertaking structural improvements to many buildings threatened with collapse, preserving them for posterity, removing ugly scaffold- ing, and increasing visitor access (figure 5). * Restoring the South Facade of Diocletian's Palace, bringing to light the original Roman architecture and the medieval wall that was built atop it. * Making accessible to visitors many valuable collections, such as that of the ethnographic museum. Project Preparation In preparing the project, several requirements had to be met and exten- sive consultation held among specialists from the Bank, conservation specialist institutions, municipal officials, and local stakeholders. A meeting of the minds was needed to satisfy different view points. The Bank approached the project as a development project that would need to be economically justified and to have a sound financial and imple- mentation plan. Conservation specialists were more concerned with the Economics of Investing in Heritage: Historic Center of Split 767 /7. I, -~~~~~~~~~~Fgr .Mp fteSlt ia 65 Figure 1. Map of the spatial development of Split, fourth century. _. t. " ' Figure 2. Map of the Split Riva, 1675. 'I_ Am.. -~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~Fgr 3 Ma of th-pta eeomn __ of Fpigtr 19Mpo8he5 aildeeomn 168 Maha J. Armaly, Stefono P Pagiolo, and Alain Bertaud XW aa;- _. =~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~7 Figure 4. Diocletian's Palace, Split, Croatia, technical aspects of the project, an area in which the Bank does not have fourth century A.D.: bird's-eye view of interior courtyard. a comparative advantage and relies on partners to provide. Given the his- toric importance of the area, and the role the historic core plays in the economic and social interactions in Split and the surrounding area, local officials and residents were quite convinced that the project is econom- ically justifiable. From early in the war in the Balkans, tourism in Croatia suffered, affecting economic and social aspects in the life of every town. The Municipality of Split looked again to the urban historic core to revitalize the city and the population. A social assessment was undertaken that confirmed the popu- lation's views with regard to the important role that the historic core plays in their lives. The social assessment also formed the basis for the econom- ic analysis of the project, in that it attempted to measure the value assigned to the improvements planned under the project in the minds of the local population and foreign visitors. Summary of Benefits and Costs Costs. The project will undertake a variety of activities designed to conserve and enhance the cultural heritage of the City of Split. The most important component concerns the historic core of the city, which UNESCO has desig- nated a World Heritage city. In Split the project would finance: Economics of Investing in Heritoge: Historic Center of Split 169 * Completion of the excavation of the cellars of Diocletian's Palace and the restoration of areas that have already been excavated, making the entire substructure accessible to visitors * Structural improvements to many buildings threatened with collapse, preserving them for posterity, removing ugly scaffolding, and increasing visitor access * Restoration of the South Facade of Diocletian's Palace, revealing the orig- inal Roman architecture and the medieval wall that was built atop it * Construction and rehabilitation of public facilities, making accessible to visitors many valuable collections, such as that of the ethno- graphic museum. The costs involved include the investment costs incurred in carrying out the conservation and enhancement, and the additional estimated long- term maintenance costs. In present value the total costs of the Split pro- gram come to about US$12.1 million, excluding taxes. Benefits. This project will generate two major types of benefits: 1. Work on the historic buildings will generate benefits to both residents and visitors. Many of these benefits are intangible-they will increase the overall enjoyment that residents and tourists derive from living in or visiting the site. These intangible benefits will be reflected in observable variables-for example, in higher property prices within the site, higher sales prices for goods sold at the site, increased visi- tation, and increased tourist spending-but only imperfectly so. 2. Structural work and renovation of existing buildings and construc- tion of new structures will create additional space that will be avail- able for a variety of public and private uses. Several of the activities will have additional benefits; for example, restoration of the Roman sewer system will have a public health benefit, while structural work on several buildings will improve public safety. Due to lack of time and resources, no effort has been made to estimate these additional benefits. The most difficult aspect of the economic analysis is to estimate the ben- efits from the investments being made to improve the cultural heritage of the historic city, since the majority of these benefits are not reflected, or are imperfectly reflected, in market transactions. To undertake this, contingent valuation (CV) surveys were conducted of both tourists and residents to determine their willingness to pay (WTP) for the improve- ments to be made by the project. In a CV survey respondents were presented with detailed information on a cultural heritage site and its likely prospects in the absence of inter- vention. They were then presented with an alternative scenario that explained what interventions were being considered and what their 170 Mahai J Armoly, Stefono P Pagiolo, ond Alain Bertaud rn5 -awe FigureS5. Conservation of architec~u,tual A heritage includes structural improemets .- to buildings threatened with collapse. likely effect on the site would be. They were asked how much they would be willing to pay for the specified improvements. This approach enables analysts to focus in very closely on the issue of interest. CV has been used in several previous Bank operations, including notably the economic analysis of benefits to tourists from improvements made in the Fez Medina, Morocco. CV also was used in a previous Bank project in Croatia to value the benefits to tourism of protection and reconstruction measures for coastal forests. Benefits to tourists. The analysis showed that tourists expressed a rela- tively high willingness to pay for improvements in the historic core of Split. The mean WTP was about $44, with a 95 percent confidence inter- val between $37 and $51. This can be compared to the WTP of $70 expressed by tourists visiting the Fez Medina. That WTP should be lower at Split is not surprising since, unlike at Fez, cultural heritage was not the primary reason for a visitor's trip. Visitors to Petra in Jordan pay a $30 per person for visits that generally last a single day. Economics of investing in Heritage: Historic Center of Split 17l For the purposes of the economic analysis for Split, a conservative WTP value at the lower end of the estimated range, $35 per person, was used. Since these are benefits to foreigners, however, only the portion that is captured locally should be counted as a benefit to Croatia. For the base case calcula- tions, it was assumed that 50 percent of the benefit was captured locally. By combining these estimates with estimates of the number of tourists visiting Split, the stream of benefits deriving from the cultural heritage improve- ments could be estimated. Under the assumptions given, an annual income stream of about $5 million would be generated. Assuming it takes five years for the full benefits of the project to be experienced, the value of this income stream in present value terms is about $41 million. Benefits to residents. The Social Survey showed that residents of the his- toric core attach considerable importance to its preservation. The Resident Survey quantified this interest by asking residents of the his- toric core their willingness to pay for the improvements to be made by the project. The results show that residents have a relatively high will- ingness to pay for improvements in the historic core. The mean WTP for the proposed improvements was $158, with a 95 percent confidence interval of $117 to $198. It is not surprising that the residents' WTP should be higher than that of visitors since: * It is their own cultural heritage being preserved and improved, so it is reasonable to expect a higher intensity of preferences. * Residents will enjoy the benefits of the improvements year-round, rather than only for a week or so, as in the case of visitors. * Some residents obtain at least part of their income from the tourist indus- try and are likely to benefit monetarily from the improvements. Assuming a WTP of $115, at the bottom end of the estimated range, an annual flow of benefits to residents of the historic core of about $0.25 million will be generated. Assuming that full benefits will be achieved 5 years after the beginning of the project, this represents a present value of $2.1 million. Residents of Split who do not reside in the core itself also can be expect- ed to benefit from the improvements made there. The Social Survey had shown that the historic core remains a principal commercial and recre- ational center for the city's inhabitants. Since non-residents will have a lower exposure to the improvements made by the project, however, it is reasonable to assume that their WTP for these improvements will be lower than that of residents. Assuming conservatively that the WTP of non-residents would be only 10 percent of that of residents, an addition- al annual benefit to inhabitants of Split of $1.7 million would be gener- ated, or $14 million in present value terms. The much larger number of beneficiaries offsets the much smaller levels of benefits per capita. These results are summarized in table 1. It shows that the estimated net pres- ent value of the project, using a 10 percent discount rate, is about US$47 mil- lion. The estimated internal rate of return (IRR) is about 50 percent. 7 72 Maho J. Armaly, Stefano P Pagiola, and A/ain Bertaud It should be stressed that these benefit estimates are conservative for two reasons: 1. Conservative assumptions were made in estimating the individual benefits. 2. Several important benefits have not been included. In particular, the benefits obtained by Croatians who are not resident in Split have not been included. Likewise, the individual benefits created by many of the individual sub-components, such as the public health benefit of restoring the sewer system, have not been included. Because of this second point in particular, actual benefits are likely to be much higher than the estimated project benefits. Table 1. Estimated costs and benefits of the restoration of historic core of Split Present value of flows (US$) Benefits Site Costs Tourists Residents Other Total Net Internal present rate of value return Split 12.1 40.6 16.0 3.0 59.5 47.4 49 Moin Economic Assumptions 1. That CV accurately captures tourists' and residents' WTP for improve- ments. Although CV has many of the potential weaknesses inherent in survey approaches, considerable experience in the use of CV meth- ods in the environmental field allows these potential weaknesses to be minimized. The surveys conducted at Split followed closely the recommendations of the U. S. National Oceanic and Aeronautic Administration (NOAA) "blue-ribbon" committee on CV, which is generally considered authoritative on its appropriate use. 2. That tourism will recover to pre-war levels within five years. In areas surrounding Split tourism has already made a substantial recovery, albeit not yet to pre-war levels. Recovery within the city itself is hampered by the poor condition of hotels and other facilities, which were used by refugees. Since a large portion of visitors to Split con- sists of excursionists from surrounding areas, this is less constraining than it might have been. A resurgence of conflict in the area could affect the recovery of tourism. 3. That a significant portion of benefits to tourist can be captured locally. A number of market mechanisms will come into play, for example, allowing hotels and restaurants to charge a premium Economics of lovesting in Heritoge: Historic Center of Split 173 thanks to their location. Entry fees will be charged to some of the new facilities. However, an entry fee to the sites of Split and Trogir as a whole would be impractical. Current law prevents the munici- pality from imposing a tax; a study will be undertaken of the desir- ability of such measures. Sensitivity Analysis and Switching Values of Critical Items Tourism benefits. The benefits derived from tourism are the most impor- tant. These estimates depend on the three sets of assumptions above: the recovery of tourism to at least pre-war levels, tourists' WTP for the improvements made by the project, and the proportion of this WTP that can be captured locally. 1. In the base case, tourism is assumed to recover to pre-war levels within 5 years, which is also the time needed for the project's improve- ments to be ready. The Split investments have positive net present values (NPVs) even if tourism takes as long as 20 years to recover to pre-war levels. The Split component would be justified even in the absence of any recovery of tourism. 2. In the base case, tourist WTP for improvements at Split is assumed to be $35 per person per visit, which is at the lower end of the 95 per- cent confidence interval for the WTP estimated in the tourist survey. This is already a conservative assumption. The Split component would have a NPV of $6.8 million even if there were no tourist benefits. 3. In the base case, 50 percent of tourist WTP is assumed to be captured locally. If only 25 percent of this benefit were captured locally, the PV of tourism benefits would be about $21.3 million. The project NPV would fall to $24.5 million, and the internal rate of return (IRR) to 27 percent. As with the previous assumption, the project would still be justified even if none of the tourism benefits were captured locally. These estimates show that the results for the project are extremely robust, even despite major changes in the assumptions regarding WTP and the fraction that is captured locally. Resident benefits. Since the populations of the cities involved are known, resident benefits depend on only the per capita benefits obtained by res- idents. For residents of the historic core the base case assumptions for Split take a conservative estimate of WTP of $115, at the bottom end of the estimated range. The assumptions take well below the estimated mean WTP of $158, and an even more conservative estimate of 10 per- cent of this amount, for other residents. The Split component would be justified on the basis of resident benefits alone, with no tourist benefits, if the willingness-to-pay of residents of the historic core were at least $88 per person. If any tourist benefits are received at all, the assumed benefits to residents can fall even further. Tourism benefits would have to 774 Moha J. Armaly, Stefono P. Pagiolo, and Alain Bertaud be less than a third of those assumed before any resident benefits are needed to justify the project. It should also be stressed that benefits to Croatians who are not resident in Split are not included at all. Even though these benefits are likely to be even lower per person than those of Split residents who do not live in the historic core, the large number of people involved would still result in a significant benefit. Analysis of the Urban and Real Estate Dynamics of the Project Despite the stagnation of tourism, real estate prices in the historic core have been increasing. There is apparently a strong demand for office and commercial space. Prices in 1998 reached about US$11,000 per m2 in the prime location retail areas. These very high prices were confirmed from several sources. By contrast, in some areas of the core, residential prices are declining. This is due to lack of sanitary facilities in about 20 percent of apartments (although water and sewer reticulation is adequate in the area), and the high cost of making major repairs in the city core. However, the current market price of the best apartments should consti- tute an incentive to renovate the worst structures in the area. Rent control, still imposed on a number of apartments (about 50 percent of the residential space according to some estimates), is certainly the major hindrance to the private-sector rehabilitation of the worst hous- ing stock. The possibilities of removing rent control or finding compen- sating mechanisms to enable tenant mobility under rent control are explored earlier in this chapter. If more detailed surveys confirm that 50 percent of the residential stock is under rent control, dealing with the physical decay inherent in rent control may be the major issue con- fronting the permanent upgrading of the historic core. During the implementation of the project the Agency for the Historic Core (AHC) should monitor the evolution of real estate prices in various parts of the historic core and identify the number, area, and location of rent-controlled apartments. The choice of alternative solutions will depend in large part on the quantitative aspects of this problem, in par- ticular in the rent differential between controlled and free market apart- ments. A large differential would enable rent-control tenants to receive adequate compensation for their property interest. A small differential would tend to perpetuate the status quo. Regulations Affecting the Historic Core The municipality prefers to preserve the current area under residential use and does not wish to increase the floor space under commercial use (retail and office space), but it has no legal means to enforce this policy. The reason for this preference is to avoid complete commercialization of Economics of Investing in Heritoge: Historic Center of Split 175 the historic core, which would deprive it of its lively social character and could increase incidence of unwanted behavior particularly at night when commercial establishments close. However, there is much more demand for office and retail space than for residential use. It is hoped that the general environmental improvements resulting from the project will boost demand for residential use. Land Use Change Regulations While it is certainly desirable to maintain a residential population as large as possible in the historic core, it is difficult to do so by regulations alone. Until conditions are created to make the area attractive to a seg- ment of the residential market, slowing down land-use changes by reg- ulations or red tape may not be the best policy. Systematic monitoring of land-use change requests, transaction prices, and rents in the historic core provides enough information to enable the local authority to take an informed decision on the subject of land-use changes. This monitor- ing should be part of the Geographic Information System (GIS) database planned under the project. Regulations Affecting Repairs of Public Areas, Signs, Size, and Aspects of Buildings Regulations concerning the building aspects are considered inadequate and maladapted to market conditions. Although a new set of regulations eventually should be prepared, it is recommended to concentrate on the regulations concerning repairs and maintenance of pavements, place- ment of electric and telephone cables, openings of retail space entrances and show windows at ground level, and installation of air conditioners cantilevered on street space. A working group will be constituted by representatives of the Ministry of Cultural Affairs, the municipality, and the district to draft a proposal concerning priority regulations focusing on the topics mentioned above. The working group also will detail the legal steps required to obtain offi- cial approval for the new set of regulations. The regulatory proposal will be presented for approval to the relevant authorities during project implementation. The proposed project could provide expert assistance to review the draft regulations and provide a summary of international experience in regulating historic cores in market economies. Approval by the relevant authorities of a set of amended regulations could become a project implementation benchmark. The proposed project will finance the rehabilitation of a number of his- toric monuments, improve drainage, and add about 9,600 square meters of floor space to the historic core for cultural facilities. The total cost would be US$15.0 million. The cost of rehabilitation work and drainage is about US$5 million. This cost represents about 2 percent of the total 176 Maha J. Armaly, Stefono P. Pogiola, and Alain Bertaud current real estate value of the areas privately occupied in the historic core.2 The average cost of construction of the new floor space (US$1,000/m2-assuming, of course, that the Emperor Diocletian initial investment is considered a sunk cost) is well below the average market value of floor space in the area (US$1,500/mi). The total cost of rehabil- itation, drainage, and additional public facilities construction (US$15 million) represents about 6 percent of the total current real estate value of the privately occupied historic core. The characteristics of the real estate markets in Split are not yet com- pletely clear. However, the rehabilitation component would produce an IRR of 15 percent if the work resulted in an increased estate value of 2.1 percent over the next 5 years in the city core alone. If we add the cost of constructing new floor space to the cost of rehabilitation, the same IRR of 15 percent would require an increase of 7 percent in real estate value attributable to the project over 5 years. These figures assume that (1) entrance tickets and space rental would cover maintenance only and not contribute to capital cost, and (2) the benefits of the additional new floor space would be entirely captured by real estate values in the core only. These assumptions on the increase in real estate value that could be attributed to the project seem reasonable. Factors attributable to the projects that may contribute to an increase in real estate value are: 1. The rehabilitation will put to use the only area of the historic core that is obviously blighted. It will remove some of the humidity prob- lems, improve street lighting, and improve the appearance of historic monuments. 2. The rehabilitation of the Diocletian Palace substructure would create 3,800 m2 of temporary exhibition space of exceptional quality (the largest usable covered space in the world built entirely in Roman times). 3. The creation of the ethnographic museum and other facilities will increase pedestrian traffic in the historic core, thus increasing the commercial values of retail space and the cultural prestige of the area. 4. The rehabilitation effort together with the new legislation to protect the historic environment will demonstration the local government's determination to maintain a high standard of urban quality in the historic core. The increase in real estate value depends on the future attractiveness of the area for both commercial and residential use. Commercial use-retail and office buildings-represents about 82 percent of the market value of the core. Recent surveys show that the historic core remains the pre- ferred center for quality shopping and food markets, entertainment, and cultural activities for the Split population. The selection of sites in the historic core by chains of foreign retail franchises confirms the econom- ic vitality of the area and the survey results. The two areas of Split with Economics of Investing in Heritage: Historic Center of Split 177 the highest residential real estate values are located within walking dis- tance east and west from the historic core. These combined factors sug- gest that an increase in real estate value of 6.6 percent over 5 years in the core only is a conservative scenario. Therefore, the investment in his- toric preservation made by the municipality seems economically sound. The capital cost might be recovered through tax on business, sales taxes, or increased property tax. A key factor in the increase of real estate value will be the municipali- ty's ability to maintain and manage the about 9,500 m2 of public facili- ties built or rehabilitated under the project. The flow of local, national, and foreign visitors to these facilities outside normal business hours should greatly enhance the value of commercial space. The Agency for the Historic Core (AHC) will begin to monitor the evolution of real estate prices in the area to ascertain the effect of rehabilitation. The munici- pality may want to use some part of future real estate taxes to finance the routine maintenance of historic buildings for the long run. The method proposed to calculate the rate of return of the investment in Split is based on the following principles: 1. The rehabilitation component in Split would create tangible and intangible benefits. The tangible benefits would be derived from a direct increase in commercial flows and hence in rents. Most of these benefits will be concentrated locally, although some might incur out- side Split. The intangible benefits are generated by an increase in his- toric knowledge and cultural awareness. These benefits would be spread across Croatia and indeed throughout the world. The calcula- tions of the internal rate of return presented here are restricted to an evaluation of the tangible benefits occurring locally. The other ben- efits-tangible outside Split and intangible-are ignored in the calcu- lation of the IRR. 2. Real estate prices within the historic core should capture most of the flow of benefits generated from the rehabilitation of cultural monu- ments, the infill of derelict areas, the drainage work, and the new regulations on street maintenance and displays in public areas. 3. The upgrading or construction of public facilities such as museums, theaters, and exhibition floor space also will generate tangible ben- efits captured by real estate prices because of the increase in pedes- trian traffic and tourism they will generate, in particular outside nor- mal business hours. It is assumed that the sale of tickets and the rental fees of exhibition space would only cover maintenance costs and therefore would not contribute to a flow of tangible benefits. Intangible benefits for these components are probably important. These type of investments are usually justified entirely on the basis of their high intangible benefits. However, in this exercise we found that the tangible benefits of public facilities on real estate values 178 Moho J. Armaly, Stefono P Pogiolo, and Alom Bertoud might also be significant For this reason we have made two calcula- tions of the IRR, one excluding facilities, the other including them, with the understanding that large intangible benefits are not taken into account in the second calculation. 4. Because of the short history of real estate markets in Split and because of the exceptional nature of the investments in historic monument upgrading, it is not possible to predict the effect of the upgrading on real estate prices. However, it is possible to conduct a sensitivity analysis to calculate the IRR that would be produced by different hypothetical increases in real estate prices. A judgment could be made to select the range of price increases that seem "rea- sonable" and the corresponding rates of return. The application of this method has been possible because of the detailed inventory and survey of floor space already conducted by AHC. (A detailed map exists for every building at every level). The result of the inventory allows to divide the floor space into seven salable categories disaggregated by type of use and amenity quality. Public facilities and public space have been excluded from the valuation. The total market value of all the private buildings in the core is calculat- ed by putting an average market price for each of the seven categories of floor space. The rounded value of the private floor space is thus eval- uated at around US$250 million. The total cost of the project Split component, US$15.0 million, is divid- ed into two types of costs: 1. The rehabilitation of cultural monuments, infill of derelict areas, drainage work, and new regulations on street maintenance and dis- plays in public areas repair works (US$5.0 million) 2. Construction and rehabilitation of floor space for exhibition and public facilities (US$10.0 million). The internal rate of return has been calculated separately for the first type of costs alone (rehabilitation) and for the total cost of the compo- nent including the two types of costs (rehabilitation plus new floor space for community facilities). U Economics of Investing in Heritoge: Historic Center of Split 179 Notes 1 Since preparation of the project in 1998, the Kosovo crisis and government changes in Croatia have affected the project in many ways. In 1999 tourism in Croatia dropped severely. Early readings of the 2000 season and beyond are very positive, and have exceeded the most optimistic expectations. The recent change in the government brought additional enthusiasm and sup- port to the project on the part of the Municipality of Split and the Ministry of Culture. However, given the increasing challenges and priorities of the new government, the project has been postponed. In addition, the project concept and objective may change to increase emphasis on municipal devel- opment and capacity upgrading, while keeping the social objective through investments in the historic core. 2 This figure assumes that about 50 percent of the residential space current- ly under rent control stays that way. If rent control could be progressively removed, the real estate value of the core would significantly increase, but the cost to rehabilitate the former rent-controlled apartments also would also significant. Models of Transformation in Saudi Arabia Ali Shuaibi he impact of urbanization and modernization on historic and * sacred cities in a developing country such as Saudi Arabia can Ali,Shub isapartnerr u'Beeo aConsuitag, a be understood only when compared to their impacts in devel- an arc'7,'ectura/ firn in S ucididrabta, as nel aschairmanof sneSaud Society for U oped countries. While the population curve is shooting up in Architects and Ploaners (A!-Umran) and a member of tne Execitive Cornn;ttee of developing countries such as Egypt, Indonesia, or Nigeria, it is ICOMOS,ashuambiCahotmailcom virtually flat in developed countries such as Denmark, Japan, or the United Kingdom. This dichotomy reflects the challenge and the interest of the population of both societies. Developed countries have less volatile urban population growth; accordingly, conservation becomes a realistic endeavor. However, for developing countries with massive urban growth, most of their governments' efforts go to address problems of increasing urban population, poverty, and physical change. Until the 1950s Saudi Arabia was a medieval society. It entered the Renaissance and Modernism only in the last 50 years, after the end of World War II. The transformation of three rapidly growing metropolises in Saudi Arabia, namely Makkah Al Mukarramah, Jeddah, and Riyadh, illustrate some of the issues (table 1). Makkah Al Mukarramah Makkah Al Mukarramah has been the spiritual and physical focus of all Muslims at every prayer for the last 14 centuries. It was a holy city even before Islam began. It is a city within a shrine. A prayer in the shrine is equivalent to 100,000 prayers outside. The function of the shrine is to enable pilgrims to circumnavigate the Ko'boh (black cube), and to hold collective prayers in circles around it. The population of the city grew quickly in the early centuries of Islam, reaching about 100,000 during the Abbasid dynasty (750-1258 A. D.) It was stable at that number for the last millennium. A comparison between a map of the nineteenth centu- ry by Burckhardt and another of 1948 shows that very little change in the historic city had happened until the 1950s. 180 Models of Transformotion In Saudi Arobia Table 1. Rapid transformation of Makkah, Jeddah, and Riyadh in Saudi Arabia following World War II 4 i - I i- 3 -- - - . - __ 2 - 1 - - - t- - -t t- i- - 2 - - 2 r_ - ir .C, I , , . S / sS, g ---- 1- - -r --.- - 0' > > > > o > \ > o Years Population growth Makkah Al Mukarramah had beautiful buildings from the Mamluk (1250- 1517) and Ottoman (1300-1922) periods (figure 1). The forbidden area dedicated to prayers is known as the Holy Mosque. Historically, secular buildings were built immediately abutting it. Until the Abbasid period, in every cycle of growth the mosque and other secular buildings around it were demolished to allow for expansion. Later, only reconstruction was done by the Ottomans. During these centuries buildings in the city were like trees in the fC,est, where old ones die and new ones replace them. In the 1950s buildings were hardly older than few centuries, with the exception of columns in the Holy Mosque, which had been retained since the early centuries of Islam. In the late 1950s with the increase in the number of pilgrims, Saudi Arabia decided to carry out the largest expansion ever for the Holy Mosque, which was in four levels; below grade, main, second, and roof levels. This first modern expansion of the mosque was thought to be suf- ficient for the coming centuries. But the rapid growth of numbers of pil- grims and local population of the metropolis rendered it insufficient even before it was completed, calling for another round of destruction of the historic buildings to allow for expansion (figure 2). More than two million worshipers attend prayers simultaneously, and the number is increasing. This historical model of growth was clearly unworkable for the modern phenomenon of continuous growth. A new model was needed. The city found that an integrated mode of expansion is the only viable alternative. This model recommends the retention of the existing buildings of the Holy Mosque. But in the future, every new construction should be a multilayered (storied) development Besides 182 4!i SPOGibi ~jjJutiaL4ib - r' - -w _ '- Figure 1. Makkah is thousands of years old ' , and antil rhe post-World War 11I transformation had beautiful buildings , 71 from the Mumluk and GOttoman periods. ' tj Figure 2. The ra pid go wth E of Mukkhr called for the greatest expansion in the history of the Holy : S F-E Mt sure. khie sarethnesmofqyeai s surrounded byd prilgrims arrisinofor theaHajj Models of Transformotion in Soudi Arabia 183 prayer space, it should include all necessary transport facilities, pedestri- an circulation, local services, special uses, and housing. It is hoped that this model that integrates the sacred with the secular will permit future growth and conservation to coexist. Jeddah Jeddah was the pilgrims' port until the 1950s, when it became Saudi Arabia's main commercial port. Since that time its population has grown from about 50,000 to more than two million. It was a walled medieval town with high-density, four- to five-story towers, mainly from the nine- teenth century. Pressure of the early growth of the city resulted in the demolition of its walls and some buildings to make room for new wider streets or taller buildings. Even though Saudi Arabia does not have a for- mal policy for historic preservation in urban areas, the city's master plan of the early 1970s called for historic conservation. While the city upgrad- ed the infrastructure and improved the roads and traffic management, it also encouraged property owners to conserve their buildings. The pres- sure of growth was quickly absorbed in the vast land development away from the historic city, thus contributing to the viability of its conserva- tion scheme. Riyadh Riyadh in the early 1950s was a walled desert hamlet built for pedestri- ans, built entirely of adobe walls and timbered roofs. The walled historic city had a population of about 5,000 inhabitants. The city was the nucle- us of the unification of Saudi Arabia, which was ruled over by King Abdul Aziz about 100 years ago. Its population is now about 3.4 million. Possibly ashamed of its modest architecture, coupled with the extreme fragility of its adobe buildings, which required immediate repair after every rain, the city decided to modernize itself. The main mosque and the Justice Palace (Governor's Office) were immediately rebuilt with more durable materials of stone and concrete. Streets were literally cut into the urban fabric. Some buildings gave way to parking lots. Two-story court houses along the newly created streets were replaced by walk-up concrete apartments. In the late 1970s the city realized that it had lost its historic center and was left with a shredded fabric, plagued by traffic congestion. An Italian architect was hired to design a new city center that included a plaza, city hall, and a cultural center. The proposal was rejected because the design ignored the surrounding area and had no cir- culation plan. My company was hired to create the urban design for the area. Our design included suggestions to: * Widen the boundary to integrate the area with main roads * Attempt to restore the traditional fabric 184 Alt Shucnbi * Preserve the memory of the city by maintaining the original location of all major buildings * Conserve the fort * Avoid through traffic * Create a new network of pedestrian walkways bridging neighboring areas, a plaza, a series of open spaces, and integrating parking * Integrate parking with shopping and multiple uses at upper levels that include housing and office facilities in a contiguous mass suit- able for the hot, arid climate of the city. By the early 1990s the city had successfully completed the second phase of the design, which included the main mosque and the Justice Palace by Rasem Badran. It won the 1995 Aga Khan Award for Architecture. As a result of this success, the city decided to expand its experiment to include Al Murabba Palace of the late King Abdul Aziz as a gift to its cit- izens for the occasion of the country's centennial. With Rasem Badran Beeah developed the urban design with the intent to create a cultural center in the area, which will also act as a magnet. The Justice Palace was planned as the administrative center, Al Murabba as the cultural center, and the traditional area between the two centers as the folk and craft center. The Cultural Center included the National Museum by Canadian architects Muriama and Tachima, The King Abdul Aziz Documentation Center (Ad-Darah) by Rasem Badran, and the Library by Omrania. (The urban detailing and landscaping were done by Boedeker and Speerplan of Germany, and the restoration of the existing adobe buildings by Beeah (figure 3)). With this development the city hoped that it had compensated its residents for the lost historic buildings by restor- ing the values and memories of its historic city. The three cities in Saudi Arabia each had different functions-the reli- gious capital, the economic capital, and the political capital-in their development and experienced different transformations in their historic centers. Makkah preserved the historic building of the mosque; Jeddah preserved its center; but Riyadh for the benefit of its future population revived the memory of locations, rather than the physical structures. The transformations in the historic centers of these three rapidly developing metropolises provide distinctively different models of intervention for other cities in developing countries. - Models of Transformation in SaudiArabia 785 w ~~~~~~. -. -9~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~L- Figure 3. Urban detailing, landscaping, and making foundations and roofs resistant to rain were part of restoring and modernizing old adobe buildings to create a cultural center in Riyadh's Al Murabba palace area. Addressing the Social Context in Cultural Heritage Management: Historic Cairo Saad Eddin Ibrahim n protecting and preserving cultural heritage and historic cities, it is imperative to consider their social contexts (figure 1). The word SuadEdd.9ilbim;ersaparofessor "social" in this context refers to patterns of association and disasso- oi saocvogy at the American University onCairo and chairman ofthe ciation, integration and disintegration, cooperation and conflict, !no Xhealdaun Certer for Development . i a Stdiest at heniversity. vasion and succession, stratification, and classvariables in conflict. The city is the stage and the reference point in time for all of the soci- ety's interactions. The city is defined by population density, the produc- tion and accumulation of wealth, and the concentration of wealth and power in a relatively limited space. Cairo illustrates the complexity of the relationship between urban soci- ety and historic places. The concentration of people, power, and wealth represents a focal point in the drama of any city, especially in a historic city like Cairo with over a millennium of uninterrupted human habita- tion. I am restricting my observations to the Islamic and specifically to the contemporary, reality of Cairo. Cairo is considered to be a conurbation or an amalgamation of several smaller cities that developed and evolved over the last 1,500 years. In each of these cities the rich lived in the center and next to them lived their soldiers. Cairo experienced successive cycles over that period in which the rich moved from the center to the north or northeast, between the Nile and the Mokattam Hills. For example, the conqueror Amr Ibn-al As built the City of Fustat in 641 A. D., which later was abandoned by the rich, who moved northeast to Al Askar. One hundred years later the rulers moved once again to Katai or Tulun and, finally, to Al Qahira, the Fatimid capital, founded in 969 A. D. This sequence of moving continued with subsequent moves being less dramatic than these first three moves. The urban expansion gradually 186 40dressxiq the Soculo Cur:r,,,C4ffi^,. . - ^", . mercial space, emptying historic town cen- ters of businesses and undercutting their economic foundations. 204 Kennedy Smith Figure 2. A vacant Main Street -P building will cost its community - more than $250,000 in lost indirect economic activity. ; - E --a Moreover, many communities make economically foolish choices about the kinds of businesses they recruit and develop. A locally owned busi- ness returns more than 60 percent of its profits to the community in which it is located. A chain store, however, returns only about 20 percent of its profit; the remainder typically is distributed to shareholders or invested in corporate expansion (figures 3, 4). Discount superstores return even less economically to the community; estimates range between 5 and 8 percent. Ironically, communities that attract discount superstores in hopes of expanding the employment base or increasing sales and property tax revenues find that they are actually impoverishing them- selves. They are shifting jobs and tax revenues from a place already served by municipal infrastructure and services (the town center) to a new place in which services must be expanded or duplicated. When a downtown is vacant, it is not just struggling or bankrupt busi- nesses that suffer. The indirect economic impact on the entire communi- ty is deep and severe. A typical two-story vacant Main Street building, for example, will cost its community more than $250,000 in lost indirect economic activity, including diminished property taxes (meaning less money for social services, education, recreation, and other civic priori- ties); lost salaries and diminished wages; lost advertising revenue; lost loan demand; lost bank deposits (discounters and chains usually deposit their daily till overnight in a local bank but wire it out to their home office the next day); and lost utility collections. Wl4hat Happened to Main Street? 205 Main Street Program The Main Street Program was created because of the profound changes that retail transformations were bringing about in America's historic downtowns. In the mid-1970s the National Trust for Historic Preservation's Midwest Regional Office noticed a steadily increasing number of calls from people concerned about their downtown areas. Buildings were deteriorat- . ing, and no one knew how to stop the downward cycle. The National Trust put together a demonstration project-the Main Street Project-to find out what was really happening and develop some possible approaches. The z-AW new program targeted three Midwest communities and assigned a full- time manager to each city to try to unravel the problem. Initial analysis showed that previous approaches to downtown revital ization had failed primarily because of one of three factors: they were too narrow in focus (for example, addressing only physical improve- Figure 3. It takes more effort, planning, and partnering on the part of local and ments); they relied on the "big-fix" solution du jour (the pedestrian mall, regional governments to develop locally convention center, festival marketplace, or marina); or they were the owned businesses than to recruit chain stores. However, locally owned husinesses work of either the private or public sector alone. contribute much more to the economic and cultural stability of the community. Working with the three demonstration communities in the Midwest over three years, the Main Street Project developed a matrix for organizing revitalization activity: the "Main Street Four-Point Approach." It revolves around four broad areas in which work must take place simultaneously and gradually: 1. Design, covering all physical aspects of the downtown: rehabilitating existing buildings; building compatible new buildings; improving signs, parking, and public spaces; making window displays and in- store merchandise displays more enticing. 2. Organization, which involves building collaborative partnerships among a broad range of public- and private-sector groups, agencies, individuals, organizations, and businesses; mobilizing volunteers to play active roles in the ongoing revitalization process; and obtaining full-time, ongoing professional staff to coordinate the program. 3. Promotion, the marketing component of the Main Street approach, involves letting residents, investors, and visitors know what the downtown has to offer. 4. Economic restructuring, or strengthening the downtown's existing economic base while finding ways to expand it: conducting retail market analysis to identify market opportunities, strengthening existing businesses, developing new businesses, and diversifying the economic uses of the district's buildings. The Main Street revitalization process begins gradually, with small-scale, low-cost, but often high-visibility physical improvements and festivals and special events that bring people downtown-not necessarily to spend 206 Kennedy Smith -.'i - iiii51 Figure 4. A chain store returns only about 20 percent of its profit to the local community. i * - money but just to have a good time. At the same time the local Main Street organization is learning about the downtown's best market oppor- tunities and developing a solid, realistic, and achievable strategy to strengthen existing businesses, develop new ones, and find new types of uses for downtown spaces. Unused or under-utilized upper floor spaces, side-street locations, or abandoned warehouses or other industrial build- ings are of special interest. During the first few years of the Main Street revitalization program, par- ticipants build the basic skills and develop the basic tools they will need to help the program tackle larger challenges down the road. These chal- lenges include, for example, rehabilitating "white elephant" buildings; overcoming regulatory barriers that sometimes make it easier to develop commercial space on strips than in downtown areas; and helping inde- pendently owned businesses thrive in an era in which almost 20 percent of all retail sales are made by mail-order. The process never ends and requires full-time management. The Main Street Program is a truly incremental process of economic transformation. During the first few years of a local Main Street revital- ization program a community usually sees only very modest amounts of new investment, but after the third year investment climbs steadily upwards, and eventually plateaus. Today 43 states and Puerto Rico have launched statewide Main Street programs. The program also has served as a model for similar initiatives in Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, and Venezuela. The cumulative economic gains these communities have made are aston- ishing. Through the end of 1999 historic commercial districts participat- ing in the Main Street program had experienced over $12.8 billion in new investment, a net gain of 193,000 new jobs and 51,000 new businesses, and over 62,000 building rehabilitation projects. Most important, every What Happened to Main Street? 207 dollar that a participating community spends to support its Main Street revitalization effort is leveraging an average of $38.34 in new investment. The three most recent U. S. administrations have named the Main Street program as one of the most successful economic development strategies in the nation. However, the program is really focused on historic preser- vation, and it proves unequivocally that preservation is one of the best economic development strategies a community, state, or nation can fol- low (figure 5). What Lies Ahead? In spring 2000 the National Trust surveyed people in the 1,500 Main Street communities to find out what kinds of economic (or other) changes they had witnessed over the past year. More than 90 percent of respondents expressed optimism about their downtowns' futures. They shulencompthe businheritage also said that they were experiencing significant increases in profession- ment as well as the physical environment. Boston, Massachusetts has created a city- al offices, retail businesses, and housing within their districts. Occupancy wide program called "Our Fortune Is levels were higher than in the previous year; retail sales had increased Made," highlighting family-owned busi- nesses operated by multiple generations and more people were attending promotional events and festivals in the that provide unique products and services. town center. One of the most amazing trends to emerge from the survey was the rapid growth of "location-neutral" businesses in Main Street districts. A "loca- tion-neutral" business is one that can be located nearly anywhere because its customers do not necessarily live in the community. Such companies might be fund managers, publishers, mail order fulfillment companies, consultants, or any of a host of other businesses that, because of overnight delivery services and the Internet, can locate almost anywhere. In increasing numbers these companies are seeking out historic downtowns in which to locate. Among the reasons for this trend are that overhead is usually lower in cities than in strip malls; the buildings are unique; and downtown areas offer walking-distance access to banks, post offices, office supply stores, restaurants, and other servic- es needed by small businesses. This trend is a true win-win for America's downtown areas. It gives proper- ty owners another source of rental income, which makes it easier to afford building rehabilitation and maintenance. By increasing the number of work- ers in the downtown area, this new trend bolsters the downtown's conven- ience-oriented businesses; and it puts business owners in close proximity to the services they need. A surprising 84 percent of survey respondents reported that there were more businesses in their districts using the Internet now than just one year ago, which leads to the third retail trans- formation affecting historic downtowns: the Internet. Just as shopping malls redefined the relationship between manufactur- ers and retailers, the Internet provides a new way for retail businesses to 208 Kennedy Smith reach customers. Unlike the two previous economic transformations, which hurt most American downtown areas, the Internet offers new opportunities to expand their sales. An example is "Nine Lives," a consignment store in a Main Street communi- ty in California that sells upscale, second-hand clothing. Using the store's website, customers can indicate what they want to buy, as well as size, color, and other preferences. When new consignments arrive, they are entered into the database and the computer matches merchandise to customer's "orders." Other examples include a business located in downtown Beatrice, Nebraska that recharges toner cartridges for printers and fax machines for customers from several states; a drugstore in downtown Miami, Oklahoma that allows customers to refill their prescriptions online; and a business in Coronado, California that offers specialty merchandise through its website to customers throughout the world. By enabling people to shop more easily, regardless of where a business is located, the Internet expands a small, independently owned business's mar- ket reach from the immediate community to, theoretically, the entire world. Operating a website is much less expensive than mail-order marketing because it eliminates printing and postage charges. This new technology also provides a way for small businesses that might not be able to survive solely from local sales to augment income by finding customers who may never visit their store and thus do not exacerbate downtown parking and trans- portation problems. For many specialty businesses in particular, increasing sales by as little as 5 to 8 percent can make the difference between remain- ing viable and failing. The Internet also makes it possible for downtown com- panies to do business 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Obstacles and Challenges Although most of the communities surveyed by the National Trust for Historic Preservation were optimistic about their downtown's future, obstacles still lie ahead. The regulatory environment often makes it eas- ier to develop commercial and mixed-use space on a strip than on a Main Street. Zoning laws may make it illegal to develop upper-floor housing over a commercial storefront. Inflexible parking regulations can make it difficult to bring some uses downtown, including housing, restaurants, and small-scale industry. Building codes designed to regulate new con- struction after World War 11 sometimes make it difficult to rehabilitate downtown buildings for new uses. Financing may not be available for downtown projects, particularly those involving mixed uses (such as ground-floor retail uses and upper-floor housing). One of the greatest challenges facing America's Main Streets today is complacency. People believe that things are going well enough, so they What Hoppened to Main Street? 209 let things slide and fail to pay attention to the dramatic economic trans- formations taking place around them. Or people believe that "progress is progress" and that they are powerless to guide the ways in which change and growth occur. Others believe that keeping our town centers and communities healthy is someone else's job. Downtown revitalization is everyone's job. Everyone plays a role in the process, and, ultimately, everyone benefits. As Margaret Mead once said: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." U Involving the People and Municipal Bonds in Development and Preservation in Ahmedabad Keshav Varma hmedabad is truly a unique city, a warm blend of cultural A \ heritage and a modern business center. With its population for the East Asia Urban Development of 4 million and its 600-year history, Ahmedabad is the pre- Division at the World Bank. mier city of the western-most state of India, Gujarat. The city has been known for its textile industry, its several profes- sional institutes, two of the most prestigious of which are the Indian Institute of Management of Ahmedabad and the National Institute of Design. The old city, formerly the Walled City, prides itself on its wooden houses known as havelis with beautiful facades and cool and welcoming interiors. I had the honor of serving as Ahmedabad's Municipal Commissioner from 1994 to 1997. 1 joined at a rather intense period when the aftereffects of the plague in nearby Surat were having their repercussions in our city. People were impatient with poor delivery of services and the deteriorat- ing quality of infrastructure. The Municipal Corporation was the obvious target. Corporation staff were demoralized. The challenge was to create hope, pride, and camaraderie (figure 1). History Ahmedabad was a rich city with a poor municipal body. It had suffered from cash losses for over two decades. Most of the revenue of the cor- poration was being directed toward meeting administrative costs and performing minor repairs. The challenge was inviting. The strategy was to create immediate and visible results that would have an impact on the psyche of the citizens and infuse a sense of confidence in the staff. The 210 Involving the People and Municipal Bonds in Development and Preservation in Ahmedabad 211 Ahmedabad, India. choice was either to run the city from the cool confines of the Municipal Commissioner's chamber or to move into the streets, meet the people, face the anger, and do something about it. WVe decided to move into the field and confront the vested interest, the builder lobby, the mafia that was involved in the octroi operations.' Within a very short time a com- puterized management information system was developed that helped tighten the recovery of municipal taxes and octroi More than 40 Masters of Business Administration, chartered accountants, and engineers were recruited to infuse new blood and a new management culture in the organization. From this success emerged a municipal body that was credible in the eyes of its citizens. The improvement n major roads and lighting; night checking by Municipal Corporation staff and tax recovery inspectors to prevent theft of revenue from the octroi posts by the mafia; and a campaign to keep the city clean and totally free from litter in the congregation areas, especially the night markets, helped create a sense of civic awareness. 212 Keshav Varma Effective Municipal Management Municipal management is about openness and inclusion. It is like an act in which one has to perform center stage. Progressive municipal manage- ment generates outreach and communication and removes the layers of mystery that generally engulf city administrations. We reached out to the press, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), and professional groups. They responded warmly and strongly because they saw the fabric of the city undergoing a visible change. We reached out to children, politicians, opposition leaders, community groups, and teachers. Our message was, 'This is your city, a city with a great heritage in which you have to do your part to improve your own quality of life and that of the generations that will follow you' Our message also was that we meant business in terms of our intent to be financially sustainable in all our strategies. We also made it clear to the staff and to the trade unions inside the Municipal Corporation that the municipal body existed not to serve its own individual ends but to service the people and the city. This is an important message, and if heeded well, creates miracles. Traditionally, city halls tend to be rather inward-looking. They are perceived as corrupt, mysterious, and unresponsive. It is only when the institution turns its face toward the city and starts responding to it that an emotional link is created between the institution and the people. This emotional link is the essence of city management. We emphasized and worked on this issue. We built on the inherent pride and a traditional business sense of the people of Ahmedabad; we built on the great heritage of the city both in terms of culture and built her- itage. We built on the role the city had played when Mahatma Gandhi led the freedom struggle from Sabarmati Ashram in Ahmedabad. Once this emotional partnership comes alive and sublimates itself, city man- agement becomes a joyful adventure of creativity and innovation and an extremely gratifying personal experience. Within five months the city's overdraft was cleared, and people lined up in overwhelming numbers to pay the tax arrears. Within 3 months the municipal income shot up from 3 million rupees per day to 6 million rupees per day, stabilizing at 10 millions rupees per day. An interesting dimension of this volunteerism was that citizens started removing their encroachments from the city roads. Of course, firm action was taken to clear major city roads from unscrupulous land sharks. The water tariff was raised almost three times, as well as the sewerage and solid waste management charges. There was not a murmur of protest. In the ensuing three years over 340 kilometers of roads were paved, some of them redesigned to international standards with private sector sup- port. Hundreds of thousands of trees were planted with the help of Involving the People ond Municipal Bonds in Development and Preservation in Ahmedobod 273 ~~~~~~~~~~~11 ,t ~~~* ~~~--- - - corporate entities. Gardens and parks were upgraded, and the water and Figure 2. A plain strip of asphait: sanitation system was rehabilitated and augmented (figures 2-4). CG Road before improvement, Ahmedabad. The pols polio immunization program covering the entire city was suc- cessfully carried oUt.2 Preliminary medical examinations of 300,000 chil- dren in 500 municipal schools were conducted and followed up with the help of three hospitals run by the Municipal Corporation. The Municipal Corporation hospitals were upgraded and technically refined. These hos- pitals received more than 3 million patients per year, the majority of whom were poor. The water distribution system was upgraded and organized and indisci- pline was firmly curbed. One of the schemes launched at that time was Porivortan, meaning "change," an ambitious project focused on slums in the city covering 2,412 locations and 1.2 million urban poor. The idea was an innovative one of creating a triangular partnership among the benefi- ciaries, the private sector, and the municipal body. The Self-Employed WVomen's Association (SEWA) came forward to support this initiative, which has now taken root in several slums and is moving ahead steadily. I feel this is one of the few urban slum initiatives that has the capacity of scaling up and should prove to be sustainable. Once the finances of the Municipal Corporation stabilized, a corporate perspective plan for the next 10 years was built with a total outlay of 7 Keshav V'rmao Figure 3. A more efficient CG Road: billion rupees (at that time the rupee was 26 to US$11). WVe needed inno- the manl comrca stethmdbd theman omercalstee, Ameabd.vative solutions to service this and, quite by accident, decided on the municipal bond. The idea came from Mr. Dave, former Chairman of United Trust of India, who happened to visit Ahmedabad and spent some of his precious time with me. He followed up his suggestion by request- ing CRISIL, the premier credit rating agency in India, to visit us and explore the possibility. CRISIL followed this opportunity with great com- mitment and passion. Their team spent over six months reviewing the finances of the Corporation and the process of building up the criteria of credit rating municipal bodies such as ours. After six months we waited like schoolboys for the results and were elated to learn that the rating was A+. This rating was received with a great sense of pride and jubila- tion by the city. What followed was a process of moving towards launch- ing of a municipal bond, an exercise very ably and professionally sup- ported by a USAID team headed by Earl Kessler and Kamran Khan. The process took some time getting through the bureaucracy of the State Government, but finally we ended up with a credit rating of AA. Interest on the bond was 14.25 percent. The political wing supported the process, although traditionally municipal bonds are not considered "con- venient" by politicians and administrators because of the need to be very transparent and responsive. Bonds create a benchmark in terms of effec- tiveness and efficiency and, most importantly, they involve the residents in improving the city's infrastructure. Involving the People and Municipal Bonds in Development and Preservotion in Ahmedabad 215 Ahmedabad began with a small municipal bond of US$33 million, for which the city did considerable advertising. Interested parties began to say that instead of US$33 million, the bond should be issued for US$100 million. This idea generated much support not only locally but also among professionals from Ahmedabad who live in the United States. Moreover, expatriates began returning to the city, investing, buying back hovelis, and restoring them. Eventually, the bond was completely subscribed, despite the bank's raising the interest rate to 16 percent. The experiment was suc- cessful, and it came in handy in financially supporting the water intake line from the Mahi River to Ahmedabad city. Ahmedabad's experiment came to be viewed as a best practice on solid waste management, municipal credit and finance, and revival of an old city. Just as important, public attitudes and behavior changed, and a real sense of civic pride exists. People in the Walled City feel more integrat- ed in the mainstream of the city. They are changing a 600-year-old city into a productive place. The city is much cleaner, tourism has grown, and epidemics have greatly decreased. Moreover, since 1993, the city has been calm. The communal tension that used to occur there, primarily in the Walled City, has subsided. Ahmedabad's example has led several other Indian cities to obtain credit ratings, and some are trying to float bonds. The concept is also being pro- moted in the Philippines and Thailand. The important thing to remember is that bonds should not be seen simply as financial instruments; they should be seen as instruments to bring people together and create partnerships. Built Heritage On the side of built heritage, city authorities took on a number of historic preservation challenges: restoration of the Walled City gates, heritage walks, encouragement of community initiatives to protect heritage, adap- tive reuse of colonial mansions, and a comprehensive plan for revitalizing the Walled City. One of the main issues was popular involvement to ensure that residents became more aware of their heritage and under- stood its importance. Laws are not enough. In Ahmedabad builders destroyed a 400-year-old, incredibly beautiful haveli even though the city had issued a stay. Yet there was no outcry from the public. One of the municipality's first steps was an effort to create awareness and involve youth, encouraging them to think about cleanliness and the poten- tial for tourism. The city brought the private sector, NGOs, and young peo- ple together in public meetings to increase their awareness and solicit their support. A local NGO and the Cruta Foundation, which had done similar work in Calcutta, started working to restore one of the havelis. To create a symbol that would attract community participation and bring communi- ties together, city authorities offered a property-tax concession and a 216 Keshov Varnm i4; -t - e- w' 4~~~~~~~~ 1-n - La.-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~ Figure 4 "Corporate citizens" worked to restoration grant to cover the cost of upgrading the building. Eleven pols impov paksandgaden, hmeabd.were cleaned up and opened for "heritage walks" by tourists. Residents soon noticed the difference and spoke positively of the effort. Components of Success What were the key factors in making Ahmedabad a success story? Leadership, commitment, passion, and popular involvement made the difference. City authorities were determined to turn the situation around. Their efforts and commitment sparked interest and involvement by the private sector and civil society in general-and discouraged criminal activity. Even schoolchildren helped by bringing important environmental messages home to their parents. The municipal bond played a key role, in part because it increased accountability and changed perceptions about city management. Sitting in my office at the World Bank, I often reflect on my experiences in Ahmedabad. Words like enthusiasm, optimism, hard work, pride, joy, partnerships, commitment, and passion come to mind. People are sick of Involving the People and Municipal Bonds in Development and Preservation in Ahmedabad 217 pessimism and with the tendency, which is one of the biggest problems in India, toward inaction and risk aversion. A city is a living organism. It has a cultural core; it has a professional core; but most importantly, it has a mind and a heart of its own. Municipal management is about stimulating the heart and the mind. Then the rest becomes easy. The suc- cess story of Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation is the success story of its people, some of whom also work in the Municipal Corporation, and the joy and pride they take in what they do. U Notes 1 Octroi is a local tax levied on all commercial goods entering the city boundaries. 2 A pol is a traditional built form in the old city typified by narrow streets and closely built houses. Pols were constructed for defense from attack from criminal riots and for community interaction. Many household activities also take place there such as washing clothes and utensils. Treatment of Cultural Landscapes in the United States Charles A. Birnbaum ~ he United States National Park Service Historic Landscape Initiative (NPS/HLI) promotes responsible preservation practices ChariesA B;rnbicm. 1SLA, isaorna n tGr that protect our nation's irreplaceable legacy. This legacy HRstor,c Lnanscalve bl0flt hve, H,,roric Prc.snrvCalnServiccs, L S Nutior,Purk includes three categories of landscape: designed landscapes, SeLv'cape AfrchofthecAnd,oeninstru,cr,t Ior such as parks and gardens; vernacular historic landscapes, such the Natioanl Preservabonq st;tu(t, as farms and industrial sites; and ethnographic landscapes, such as Charles Ba' bhasm@anrs pa sacred religious sites and massive geological structures. In partnership with federal and state agencies, professional organizations, and colleges and universities, the Historic Landscape Initiative (HLI) achieves its goal by developing and disseminating guidelines for significant historic landscape preservation. The potential benefits from landscape preservation are enormous. Landscapes provide scenic, economic, ecologi- cal, social, recreational, and educational value. The ongoing preservation of historic landscapes can yield an improved quality of life for all, and, above all, a sense of place or identity for future generations. Management of Cultural Landscapes "The Secretary of the Interior's Standards for the Treatment of Historic Properties" and the "Guidelines for the Treatment of Cultural Landscapes" represent important contributions to historical preserva- tion.' The "Standards" are neither technical nor prescriptive but rather promote responsible preservation practices that help protect irreplace- able cultural resources. They cannot be used to make essential decisions about which con