Liberation Squares

L-R: 1, 2 - Athens, Greece | 3 - Chitral, Pakistan | 4 - Dublin, IrelandL-R: 1, 2 – Athens, Greece  | 3 – Chitral, Pakistan | 4 - Dublin, Ireland

What follows is the ninth in a series of opinion pieces in which Vishaan Chakrabarti casts key current events — the climate talks in Denmark, the Gulf Oil Spill, the canceling of the ARC tunnel project — as rallying cries in his evolving argument for urban density, for a Country of Cities. In this installment, he examines the protests unfolding across the Middle East in terms of how urban space, specifically spaces of public assembly, reflects the political priorities of those in power and enhances or prohibits social change. -C.S.

Tahrir Square, February 2011 | Photo: Al Jazeera English | Some Rights Reserved.
Tahrir Square, February 2011. Photo: Al Jazeera English. Some Rights Reserved. For a clickable interactive map of the protest camp in Tahrir Square produced by the BBC, click here.

As the revolution in Egypt has unfolded, much attention has been paid to the significance of Facebook and Twitter as organizing platforms for the revolutionaries. Indeed, the Mubarak government shut down the Internet over the past few weeks to limit communications, a move that proved futile in either suppressing the uprising or prolonging his rule.

Of equal, if not greater, importance has been the platform (a word that once referred to something exclusively physical) provided by Tahrir Square in central Cairo, the geographic epicenter of the revolt. The breathless images of men and women, young and old, civilian and military, galvanizers and galvanized, together setting up encampments and protests in Tahrir Square, also known as Liberation Square, give us faith not only in humanity’s common right to assemble but our common expectation that cities, by definition, must provide ever-restless places of assembly.

Public spaces like Tompkins Square, Tiananmen Square and Tahrir Square have been stages for history because they provide the loci for urban gathering, particularly for a city’s youth. After all, if the revolution is to be televised, from where else would it be broadcast? One could argue that without cities and the spaces they inspire, nations themselves would never change.

Escalators in a shopping mall, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia | Photo: Vishaan Chakrabarti

Escalators in a shopping mall, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia | Photo: Vishaan Chakrabarti

It’s hard to imagine a nation without public spaces that foster urban values of mixture and inclusion: the closest I have experienced is Saudi Arabia, where I traveled last year. While there are major developed cities to be sure, one must question whether they fulfill basic standards of urbanity. Such standards are not a Western invention or imposition. Islamic civilizations have created some of the world’s great cities, starting with the religion’s original site of refuge and political organizing, the city of Medina (which means “city” in Arabic), and its holiest site, Mecca, to which the pious make pilgrimages in their millions every year.

Yet the unique morphology of contemporary Saudi Arabia’s capital, Riyadh, by contrast, stifles the very development of a public realm. With four million inhabitants and growing, Riyadh is virtually devoid of the public space in which forbidden activities such as the sharing of facilities between men and women, fraternizing between unmarried couples, or protests by abused “guest workers” could ever occur. There are very few places of gathering on the streets. There are virtually no cultural institutions that invite the public, such as movie theaters or performance halls. The most significant convening spaces used by the public are shopping malls, prized of course for their air conditioning, but also for the tight control of public behavior by the religious police that malls enable. In other words, the great social and creative mix of cities extolled throughout centuries of urban thought is made impossible in the urban agglomerations of Saudi.

Deera Square, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia | Photo via Wikipedia
Deera Square, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia | Photo via Wikipedia

This is not to say there are not public squares in Riyadh. Perhaps the most famous is Deera Square, which ex-pats call Chop Chop Square in reference to the public decapitations meted out to criminals convicted of murder, rape, even witchcraft, for all to witness. For the state-sanctioned activities in Deera Square alone, Saudi Arabia would be an international pariah if it weren’t for the vast oil reserves that fuel our SUVs and McMansions.

Tianamen Square, Beijing, China
Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China | Photos, clockwise from top left by Flickr users Jere Dow, Aaron Olaf, Scott SM.

By contrast, Tiananmen Square, also the site of considerable oppression, plays a substantially more nuanced role in both Beijing and for greater China. To be sure, Tiananmen in the summer of 1989 witnessed one of the greatest crackdowns on public dissent in history, but it’s also a place where young children learn to ride their bikes. By dusk, couples stroll through the Square. One encounters the occasional drunk. Even the events of 1989 did not emerge from a unified opposition with a uniform vision of change: organized workers and elite students held down separate parts of the Square with separate goals in mind. To date, I have few Chinese friends who believe the country should have a one-person-one-vote democracy, and generally there is a degree of faith in the central government that would be unthinkable in the United States.

August 28, 1963 | Civil Rights March on Washington, D.C. | via arcweb.archives.gov

August 28, 1963 | Civil Rights March on Washington, D.C. | via arcweb.archives.gov

In the US, we tend to take public spaces and the activities they enable for granted. From the history of protests in Tompkins Square Park, to Martin Luther King’s 1963 “I Have a Dream” speech on the Washington Mall, to the makeshift memorial built in Union Square after 9/11, it is deeply embedded in our psyche that civil discourse should have a stage on which to play out. While some moments of dissent occurred in contained surrounds like Rosa Parks’ bus, the majority of democracies worldwide will continue to see their hopes and pains played out in sweeping public spaces.

Surrounding Tompkins Square Park, Lower East Side residents protest the forceful closure of Tompkins Square Park. June 1991.
Surrounding Tompkins Square Park, Lower East Side residents protest the forceful closure of Tompkins Square Park. June 1991. Photo by Q. Sakamaki, via Gaia Photos.

In the weeks and months to come, it would be wise for us not to take for granted any emerging democracies that may unfold upon the public squares of the Middle East. The past few weeks were not our best as a nation, with President Obama and Secretary Clinton contradicting each other over the desired timing of Mubarak’s departure. There has been a pervasive sense that our foreign policy establishment, which helped establish the status quo, would prefer that very status quo to the risks of Egyptian self-rule. Instead of giving full-throated support to Egypt’s protesters, some seemed to be arguing that stability may need to overrule democracy as a practical matter, a realpolitik that has consistently placed us on the wrong side of history dating back to our support for the Shah of Iran. People may wearily point to the rise of the Ayatollahs in post-revolution Iran, but do they consider that had we not actively backed a vicious dictator for so many decades prior, Iranians may have been less tempted by such an extremist government? Instead we continue to play the lead role in our “axis of stability” formed by the US, Israel and Saudi Arabia, which understandably wants to maintain our primary peace treaty in the Middle East, but is just as concerned about the movement of oil through the Suez Canal. Again, we seek this so-called stability to perpetuate a lifestyle the world can no longer afford, and we can only resolve by urbanizing our great nation. As Thomas Friedman wrote in Sunday’s Times, “stability has left the building…good riddance.”

And perhaps this is the primary lesson about public space. That beyond our day-to-day needs for it be clean, amenable, and safe, it also has to allow for the expression of instability, for the expression of a world ever in need of change. Change is the essence of urbanity, and Egypt has reminded us that urban space can drive us towards a changed, perhaps unstable, but in the end better world.

This is what we imagine when we imagine a Country of Cities: a country and a world in which urbanity drives us towards a new, untested reality. We imagine our nation as dense and transit-based, so that our needs for gasoline and home heating oil don’t cause our government to back oppressive Middle Eastern regimes. We imagine a country and world in which a horrifying place like Deera Square can someday truly be public. We imagine a world in which pharaohs exit, and liberty prevails.

Protests in Manama, Bahrain, February 2011. At the time of posting, protests were entering their third day in Pearl Square, a traffic circle in central Manama.Protests in Manama, Bahrain, February 2011. At the time of posting, protests were entering their third day in Pearl Square, a traffic circle in central Manama. | Photo by Flickr user Chan’ad

.

This is the ninth in a series of opinion pieces in which Vishaan Chakrabarti casts key current events as rallying cries in his evolving argument for urban density, for a Country of Cities. The views expressed here are those of the author only and do not reflect the position of Urban Omnibus editorial staff or the Architectural League of New York.

Vishaan Chakrabarti, AIA, is the Marc Holliday Professor of Real Estate and the Director of the Real Estate Development program in the Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation at Columbia University and the founding principal of Vishaan Chakrabarti Design Collaborative (VCDC, llc), an urban design, planning, and strategic advisory firm based in Manhattan. He is a registered architect in the State of New York and lives in Tribeca. Read more…



One Response to “Liberation Squares”

  1. Joe Nickol says:

    Relearning How to Use Public Space
    I recently had a chance to sit with former Charlottesville, Virginia, architect-gone-mayor, Maurice Cox. While the aim of the discussion was to discuss the role of architects in community leadership, the role of public spaces in our cities emerged as the most pertinent topic.
    Public spaces in towns have worn many hats in their evolution. They’ve gone from the common retail space used by merchants to forums for public life in Roman antiquity to the thresholds of community faith and government institutions and to manicured gardens. As the cities were bled at the hand of our modern urban renewalists, public spaces became associated with loitering, crime, and bed-places for the homeless. Rare are the organized or less formal assemblies in front of city hall to protest injustices or unwarranted tax hikes. The exurban growth at our towns and cities’ perimeters has failed to provide the next generation of public spaces sensible enough to foster such important civic behavior. Put simply, we have been deprogrammed how to occupy the public realm.
    Nowhere is this clearer than the mahem that took place in the likes of Tunisia and, currently, in Egypt. Facebook and Twitter have replaced the beer hall or community center where conflict is identified and retaliation is orchestrated. And this is the most civil part of the modern civic life. When transitioning from digital dialogue to physical assembly in public arena the breakdown we’ve seen over the past week occurs.
    This is no accident. There are no longer any cues from our physical environment on how to fruitfully use the spaces that are either contained or ill contained by the structures that surround it. Without such cues, we’ve lost the confidence to regularly occupy these places in even the most routine ways. Lost is the practice that comes from every day civil interaction with both strangers and acquaintances. As is the case in any sport, when the practice erodes, so do the games. In the place of meaningful demonstrations we have riots such as those in Egypt, Tunisia, Cincinnati, Detroit, and Los Angeles.
    Because of our inability to build environments suitable for us to inhabit regularly, we have lost the art of civic engagement. Instead of assemblies to act out against economic frustration, we have molotov cocktails through windows. Taking the place of activist speaches on the public rostra are the cries of violence. If we can’t sit in a public space to have a cup of coffee with a friend, we’re not going to be able to come together to debate our country’s future in any sort of productive or peaceful way.
    Maurice Cox knows this. In his stint as Charlottesville mayor, he developed a tool for “reprogramming”his city to sensibly use public spaces. Despite opposition from members of his own city council, he erected a public chalkboard in the space in front of City Hall. This frugal but important piece of public art in a public space offered a number of important lessons. First, it allowed for any citizen to write his grievance or applause for anything that might be on his or her mind. Second, it allowed for citizens to re-engage in collectively “policing” a public space through the occasional erasing of comments that were out of line. This is critical as public spaces cannot be safe through uniformed patrol alone. An essential component to civic life is assuming the responsibility to play a role in the well being of common space. The third lesson Cox’s chalk board teaches us is that thoughtful, thrifty, and useful public space design can pay huge dividends in the operation of a community. Taken together, this very simple gesture is successfully reprogramming Charlotteville’s psyche to responsibly engage in public life as a healthy foil to private life.

Leave a Reply


eight × = 48