Future Challenges of Cities in Asia 9789048544912

Citation preview

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

Publications The International Institute for Asian Studies (IIAS) is a research and exchange platform based in Leiden, the Netherlands. Its objective is to encourage the interdisciplinary and comparative study of Asia and to promote (inter)national cooperation. IIAS focuses on the humanities and social sciences and on their interaction with other sciences. It stimulates scholarship on Asia and is instrumental in forging research networks among Asia Scholars. Its main research interests are reflected in the three book series published with Amsterdam University Press: Global Asia, Asian Heritages and Asian Cities. IIAS acts as an international mediator, bringing together various parties in Asia and other parts of the world. The Institute works as a clearinghouse of knowledge and information. This entails activities such as providing information services, the construction and support of international networks and cooperative projects, and the organization of seminars and conferences. In this way, IIAS functions as a window on Europe for non-European scholars and contributes to the cultural rapprochement between Europe and Asia. IIAS Publications Officer: Paul van der Velde IIAS Assistant Publications Officer: Mary Lynn van Dijk

Asian Cities The Asian Cities Series explores urban cultures, societies and developments from the ancient to the contemporary city, from West Asia and the Near East to East Asia and the Pacific. The series focuses on three avenues of inquiry: evolving and competing ideas of the city across time and space; urban residents and their interactions in the production, shaping and contestation of the city; and urban challenges of the future as they relate to human well-being, the environment, heritage and public life.

Series Editor Paul Rabé, Urban Knowledge Network Asia (UKNA) at International Institute for Asian Studies, the Netherlands

Editorial Board Henco Bekkering, Delft University of Technology, the Netherlands; Charles Goldblum, University of Paris 8, France; Xiaoxi Hui, Beijing University of Technology, China; Stephen Lau, University of Hong Kong, Hong Kong; Rita Padawangi, University of Social Sciences, Singapore; R. Parthasarathy, Gujarat Institute of Development Research, Gujarat, India; Neha Sami, Indian Institute of Human Settlements, Bangalore, India

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

Edited by Gregory Bracken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

Amsterdam University Press

Publications Asian Cities 11

Cover illustration: Tiara property development at Longsheng Station in Shenzhen (25 November 2014) Source: Clément Musil Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden Lay-out: Crius Group, Hulshout isbn 978 94 6372 881 2 e-isbn 978 90 4854 491 2 (pdf) doi 10.5117/9789463728812 nur 740 © Gregory Bracken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2020 All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the author of the book. Every effort has been made to obtain permission to use all copyrighted illustrations reproduced in this book. Nonetheless, whosoever believes to have rights to this material is advised to contact the publisher.

UKNA was funded by a grant awarded by the Marie Curie Actions “International Research Staff Exchange Scheme” (IRSES) of the European Union (2012-2016).

About the Three UKNA Volumes This book is part of a series of three edited volumes published in the Asian Cities series of Amsterdam University Press and the International Institute for Asian Studies (IIAS), and coordinated by editors from the Urban Knowledge Network Asia (UKNA): – Volume 1: Ideas of the City in Asian Settings; – Volume 2: Cities in Asia by and for the People; – Volume 3: Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. The UKNA was established in 2012 with a grant from the European Union’s Marie Curie Actions International Research Staff Exchange Scheme (IRSES) mobility scheme to bring together scholars from thirteen universities and planning institutions in greater China, India, Europe and the United States around collaborative research on urbanization in Asia.1 Since then the network has expanded to include also other partners in Northeast Asia, South Asia and Southeast Asia, and today represents a broad coalition of scholars and practitioners united by a common objective of promoting “human flourishing and the creative production of urban space.” The focus is on cities across Asia, as well as cities beyond Asia in comparative perspective. UKNA seeks to influence scholarship on cities as well as on policy by contributing insights that put people at the center of urban governance and development strategies. The emphasis is on immediate problem solving as well as the identification of long-term, transformative processes that increase 1 The original UKNA partners that participated in the research staff exchanges covered by the IRSES grant comprised: Ambedkar University Delhi (India); College of Architecture and Urban Planning, Beijing University of Technology (China); China Academy of Urban Planning and Design (China); CEPT University (India); Centre for Urban and Regional Studies, Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences (China); Development Planning Unit, University College London (UK); École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Paris-Belleville (France); Department of Architecture, Hong Kong University (Hong Kong SAR); International Institute for Asian Studies, Leiden (the Netherlands); Indian Institute for Human Settlements (India); School of Architecture, Tianjin University (China); Faculty of Architecture, Delft University of Technology (the Netherlands); and the Sol Price School of Public Policy, University of Southern California (USA).

the scope for the active engagement of people in the creative production and shaping of their cities – particularly in the realm of knowledge. UKNA seeks to develop a new, multidisciplinary body of knowledge on cities, one that goes beyond the “scientific” approaches transmitted in the curricula of classic urban studies programs. It seeks to encompass alternative epistemologies of the city rooted in everyday urban life. These epistemologies seek to embrace non-Western knowledge and traditions and the contributions of a wide range of methods of investigation in the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences. These three edited volumes represent the output of urban scholars who participated in the UKNA mobility schemes from 2012 to 2016, as well as other scholars who were invited to contribute to the series through separate calls for papers. The diversity of essays in these volumes represents the diversity of the UKNA itself, which brings together young scholars, including PhD candidates and postdoctoral researchers, as well as established contributors from over 20 countries and from a multiplicity of backgrounds and interests. The wide range of topics covered in these three volumes, reflecting cross-disciplinary perspectives and different kinds of expertise, embodies the “diversity of ways to read the city” that UKNA propagates. The three volumes would not have been possible without the generous support of the European Union in making possible the exchanges of scholars that were at the basis of the collaborative research that led to many of the book chapters. In addition, UKNA wishes to acknowledge the following institutions and UKNA partners for their financial support and initiatives in bringing together the chapter authors and editors: the Rockefeller Foundation’s Bellagio Center; the Asia Research Institute of the National University of Singapore; the Development Planning Unit of the University College London; and the International Institute for Asian Studies in Leiden. Paul Rabé, D.P.P.D. UKNA Coordinator and Editor, Asian Cities book series

Table of Contents 1 Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

13

2 Human Agency in the Asian City

23

3 Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable City Scenarios

39

4 Cultural Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regeneration

65

5 Housing as Heritage

99

An Introduction Gregory Bracken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

Shiqiao Li

The Transformation of Urban Villages in Shenzhen Lei Qu

From Liulichang Cultural Street to Qianmen Street and Yangmeizhu Oblique Street Wan Liu

The Great Urban Dilemma of the Global City of Shanghai Non Arkaraprasertkul

6 Not an Act of God

131

7 The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

155

8 Assessing Flood-Related Vulnerability of the Urban Poor

183

9 The Ecological Future of Cities

209

Lessons from a Disaster in the Settlements Planning of a River City Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

Danny Marks

Hendricus Andy Simarmata, Anna-Katharina Hornidge, and Christoph Antweiler

Evaluating the Role of Green Infrastructure in Promoting Sustainability/Resilience in India Ian Mell

10 Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Property” Development

243

11 Large Infrastructure Projects

277

Index

299

A Model for Financing Public Transportation in Developing Cities in Southeast Asia? Clément Musil

The Emergence of Corridors in Asia Amogh Arakali and Jyothi Koduganti

List of Figures and Tables Figures Figure 3.1

Maps of (A) China, (B) Shenzhen, (C) Hubei Village, and (D) Qingshuihe District Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd Figure 3.2 Locations of urban villages and planned industrial areas in Shenzhen Source: Shenzhen Comprehensive Planning on Industrial Distribution 2007-2020, Shenzhen Planning Bureau, redrawn by the author Figure 3.3 The formation process of urban villages in Shenzhen and the image of Hubei village Source: Drawings from Zhang, F., 2013: P.24, P.25 Photograph taken by the author Figure 3.4a, b, and c Urban vitality perceived in streets/alleys in Hubei Village Photographs by the author Figure 3.5 Collaboration of local government and urban villages in improving public spaces and public facilities in Dalang district Photograph taken by the author Figure 3.6 Spatial conditions in urban villages facilitating livability and urban vitality Photograph taken by the author Figure 4.1 (A) The old city in Beijing region (B) location of the three cases in the old city of Beijing Source: Wan Liu

41 42

45

47

56 60 74

Figure 4.2 Figure 4.3 Figure 4.4 Figure 4.5 Figure 4.6 Figure 4.7 Figure 4.8 Figure 4.9 Figure 4.10 Figure 4.11 Figure 5.1 Figure 5.2

Figure 5.3

The area of Liulichang Cultural Street Photograph by Wan Liu Homogeneous business lack of vitality, East Liulichang Street, 2012 Photograph by Wan Liu The antique-style façade, East Liulichang Street, 2014 Photograph by Wan Liu The area of Qianmen Street Photograph by Wan Liu Large scale construction at one time, Qianmen Street, 2008 Photograph by Wan Liu High quality but empty street, Qianmen Street, 2013 Photograph by Wan Liu The area of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street Photograph by Wan Liu Small-scale and micro-circular renovation in Hutong renewal, Yangmeizhu Oblique Street, 2018 Photograph by Wan Liu Resuming the Vigorous People’s Life, Yangmeizhu Oblique Street, 2018 Photograph by Wan Liu The “Unremarkable” Streetscape of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street after renovation, 2018 Photograph by Wan Liu A map of China showing the location of Shanghai (above) and a map of Shanghai showing the location of the city on the Yangtze River Delta (below) Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd A scene in a branch lane similar to that of this 72-year-old retired cadre where senior residents have set up a table for others to join in and engage in conversations or communal activities Photograph by the author An aerial view of the International Settlement of Shanghai, circa 1934 Source: Virtual Shanghai Project (Image ID: 2024; Title: Bird’s-eye view of the Public Recreation Ground and surroundings; repository: Institut d’Asie Orientale)

75 76 76 80 81 81 85 86 86 87

101

103 108

Figure 5.4

Figure 5.5

Figure 5.6

Figure 5.7

Figure 5.8

Figure 6.1 Figure 6.2 Figure 7.1 Figure 8.1

An aerial photograph of a surviving traditional Shanghainese low-rise neighborhood known locally as the lilong. This photograph shows this centrallylocated neighborhood surrounded by high-rise buildings similar to those surrounding Tranquil Light 110 Photograph by Sue Anne Tay of Shanghai Street Stories A computer-generated rendering of a cross-sectional view of a typical row house in Tranquil Light showing both the courtyard on the south-facing side 111 frontage of the house and the space on each floor Rendering by Steven Y.N. Chen The lanes of Xintiandi where the stark contrast between the “old” lilong houses in the foreground and the new modern high-rises in the background 113 can be visually experienced by all visitors Photograph by Kenneth Niemeyer Another scene in a branch lane similar to that of Mr. Hu where senior residents have set up a small grocery shop to sell household items as well as for others to join in and engage in conversations or 116 communal activities Photograph by the author A construction blueprint showing one of the eleva117 tions of the Tranquil Light Source: Shanghai City Planning and Land Resources Department/Authority (The document number, architect, and other details are concealed to protect the anonymity of the neighborhood) Map of (A) The Philippines, and (B) Cagayan de Oro City 135 Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd Cagayan River 136 Source: Elpidio Paras Map of (A) Bangkok, (B) Thailand, (C) Bang Khun Thian165 Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd Maps of (A) Location of KKM and KMB in North Coastal Jakarta, (B) Indonesia, and (C) North Jakarta Administration Area 190 (A) and (B) drawn by Ariel Shepherd (C) Source: Hendricus Andy Simarmata

Figure 8.2 Figure 8.3a Figure 8.3b Figure 8.4 Figure 9.1 Figure 9.2 Figure 9.3 Figure 9.4 Figure 9.5 Figure 9.6 Figure 9.7 Figure 9.8 Figure 9.9 Figure 9.10 Figure 9.11 Figure 10.1 Figure 10.2 Figure 10.3

Flood occurred in KMB Jakarta on 19 January 2013 Photo taken by Hendricus Andy Simarmata Elevated road and house floors Photo: Dimastanto, 2013 Man elevating road access to his house Photo: Dimastanto, 2013 Calculating the number of vulnerable people Location map of (A) India with key cities, map of (B) Sabarmati River and Ahmedabad, and (C) Yamuna River and New Delhi Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd Sabarmati Riverfront Photograph by the author Riverfront Park Photograph by the author Street Trees on Ashram and SM Road Photograph by the author Kankaria Lake Photograph by the author Riverfront Park, Sabarmati River Photograph by the author Parimal Gardens Photograph by the author Promotion of street trees in New Delhi Photograph by the author Newspaper article criticizing street tree removal in New Delhi Photograph by the author Urban trees in India Gate, New Delhi Photograph by the author Lodi Gardens (central New Delhi) Photograph by the author Hong Kong location Map drawn by Ariel Shepherd Hong Kong Station integrated development Design by the author, adapted from Ho (2011) MTRC Hong Kong Network; MTRC operating network with future extensions and location of property development owned and managed by the corporation Design by the author, adapted from MTRC (2014)

192 197 198 201 219 220 220 223 225 226 226 230 230 233 233 247 247

248

Figure 10.4 Figure 10.5 Figure 10.6

Figure 11.1 Tables Table 7.1 Table 10.1 Table 10.2

Commercial estate areas produced with the development of urban rail, statement in 2006 Adapted from data presented by Cervero and Murakami, 2008:12 by the author Tsing Y station; in addition to the metro station, this podium links the residential towers and a large shopping center Photograph by the author, March 2014 MTRC project in Shenzhen (Mainland China); on an 8.9 hectare plot located on the train depot of Line 4 operated by the MTRC in Shenzhen, the “Tiara” will host a shopping mall and 1,700 flats; the project and the construction phase Source: http://www.tiarasz.com.cn Photograph by the author, September 2014 Corridors in (A) India, (B) Japan, and (C) Malaysia Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

252

254

267 278

Emissions values and indicators of major global cities 168 Source: Croci, Melandri, and Molteni, 2011 Contribution to MTRC profits by segment 255 Sources: MTRC, 2012; MTRC, 2013b Cost and funding mechanisms of the current MTRC projects259 Sources: LegCo, 2008b; LegCo, 2014a; LegCo, 2014b; SCMP, 25 August 2014; SCMP, 11 August 2014

1

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia An Introduction Gregory Bracken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang Sometime in the next year or two, a woman will give birth in the Lagos slum of Ajegunle, a young man will flee his village in west Java for the bright lights of Jakarta, or a farmer will move his impoverished family into one of Lima’s innumerable pueblos jóvenes. The exact event is unimportant, and it will pass entirely unnoticed. Nonetheless it will constitute a watershed in human history, comparable to the Neolithic or Industrial revolutions. For the first time, the urban population of the world will outnumber the rural. – Mike Davis, Planet of Slums (2006)

In his book Planet of Slums, Mike Davis forecasts a bleak, almost apocalyptic urban future – one where there is widespread inequality and deprivation, where a majority of the urban population lives in squalor with inadequate access to basic services and with precarious employment. Although this future has not yet come to pass, there are large sections of urban populations that are increasingly vulnerable due to growing inequality, poverty, and environmental risk. However, urban regions also offer opportunities to tackle these challenges. Cities have been called “engines of economic growth,” with the ability to foster equitable development, raise the standard of living and provide economic opportunities to a wider population (Anand et al. 2014; Glaeser 2011; Sankhe et al. 2010). Cities are also extremely vulnerable to disasters and where the impacts of climate change will be felt most acutely, but they are also where some of the greatest opportunities to address these environmental challenges are emerging (Revi and Rosenzweig 2013; Revi 2009; Stone 2012). Globally, we are at the cusp of an urban transition: 54 percent of the world’s population now lives in urban centers (UN Population Division

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch01

14 

Gregory Br acken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasar athy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

2014). As a UN Population Division report on world urbanization prospects shows, Africa and Asia are urbanizing faster than any other part of the world: 90 percent of the urban population growth will be concentrated in these regions (ibid.). Much of this increase will take place in India and China, especially in small and emerging towns in these regions. As cities expand and push their boundaries, urban peripheries are experiencing rapid growth and development opportunities, but also the challenges that come with largely unplanned growth. The distinction between what is urban and what remains rural, or “not urban” is blurring. There are increasingly fewer spaces that can be characterized as “not urban,” making it critical to understand and begin to cope with the challenges that such a global urban transition will bring. The future of the planet, therefore, is closely tied to the future of the urban. The bulk of urban studies literature has so far assumed that cities have represented a specific kind of territory or space that was “qualitatively specific” (Brenner and Schmid 2011, 11) and therefore different from nonurban spaces that existed beyond “urban” boundaries. These boundaries were recognized to shift, but the spaces themselves were expected to remain separate. In the last two to three decades however, there has been a radical change in the form, extent and nature of urbanization. This change has challenged the inherent assumptions that have been the foundation of urban theory (Brenner and Schmid 2011). It is increasingly diff icult to conceptualize the “urban” as a particular type of settlement. It is no longer possible to differentiate between high-density agglomerations and their less dense peripheries. The “urban” characterizes a global transition in the way we are beginning to think about settlements. Increasingly, academic and policy writing is focusing on urban regions rather than on discrete cities (Hamel and Keil 2015; Brenner 2014; Brenner 2004). Although governments and governance processes remain bounded by administrative and spatial boundaries, we are also beginning to see a shift toward metropolitan and regional governments in rapidly urbanizing regions. This volume begins to engage with some of these questions. Focusing specifically on Asian cities, the chapters that follow are essays on a range of questions that begin to examine some of the critical urban challenges of the near future. Our cities today are facing complex, wicked problems. These are wide ranging, from issues of social and economic equity to environmental concerns, from transportation and mobility to resource constraints, and from questions of governance and scale to those about economic and human development. The chapters in this book reflect these challenges in specific locations in Asia. This volume also emphasizes the potential that exists for

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

15

urban regions across Asia as well as other parts of the world to learn from each other’s experiences. Several chapters in this book explicitly highlight both challenges and opportunities that emerge from the particular cases that they examine and that have wider applicability beyond the specifics of their research. This volume is therefore of use to not only researchers interested in comparative and interdisciplinary research, but also to urban practitioners more broadly, illustrating through concrete cases the challenges that urban regions in Asia are facing and the various opportunities that exist for dealing with these. The collected essays here mirror both existing challenges in particular cities, but also demonstrate the interconnectedness and complexity of these problems. While it is difficult to isolate any of these cases into specific categories, we focus on three large themes in this book: changing urban regions and the socioeconomic and cultural transitions they bring; environmental challenges, especially questions of climate change, natural disasters, and environmental justice; and, finally, urban infrastructure, built form, and new emerging types of urban settlements. These are not phenomena that are specific to any particular urban region, but rather have wide purchase across the Global South and North. We hope that the arguments in this volume will provoke increased scholarship and interest in interdisciplinary comparative research. The first section of this volume focuses on changing urban environments and the socioeconomic and cultural changes that they bring. Four essays focus on different aspects of this change in Asian cities more broadly, and Chinese cities in particular. Shiqiao Li begins by looking at the “Asian” city, raising questions about what makes a city particularly Asian, who shapes it, and who has agency. He makes two important sets of contributions to the understanding of cities in an Asian context. First, he proposes three broad differences in the Asian city in relation to the Western city, including a conception of inclusive land rights, a normative understanding of labor, and an aesthetics of contingency in cultural life. Second, he points out that the need for Asian cities that have typically been portrayed as “fantastical, exotic, informal, chaotic, and overcrowded” to recover their own speech in immanence and equality and “move away from orientalism and chinoiserie and toward a model of a more equitable existence in the world.” The next three essays build on these questions and explore them through specific lenses in three Chinese cities: Lei Qu discusses the changing nature of the urban villages of Shenzhen and their relationship with migration, industrial development and urban regeneration. These areas defy easy categorization: they function as “interim spaces” where modern urban identity

16 

Gregory Br acken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasar athy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

and traditional rural identity coexist (Liu et al. 2010). They remain “gray zones” where planning policies and regulations are not functioning effectively, due to complex land and property rights. In China’s dual land tenure system these villages do not qualify as “urban,” yet they cannot be defined as completely “rural” either. Lei Qu suggests that the challenge during current processes of urban redevelopment in Shenzhen is to allow urban villages to retain their role as arrival cities for young starters, including migrants, while addressing spatial fragmentation to enable interaction among various social groups. Wan Liu and Non Arkaraprasertkul both explore cases of contested urbanism. Focusing on urban regeneration in Beijing, Liu explores the impact of urban renewal and Beijing’s cultural strategy on historic preservation, especially in the spatial context. She also connects these with broader questions on economic development, participatory planning, and urban development. Liu’s essay also critically evaluates municipal policies toward urban heritage. In her analysis of the evolution of Beijing municipality’s approach to urban regeneration, she asks whom does regeneration serve? After an early history of regeneration characterized by a lack of consideration for residents and for social justice, current municipal approaches are improving and gradually incorporating more public participation, but social and economic sustainability of regeneration measures remain elusive. Arkaraprasertkul examines historic preservation in Shanghai through the lens of housing. Studying the spatial transformation of Shanghai, he attempts to understand the distinct nature of the urban fabric as a manifestation of the relationship between the older socialist approach to development and the more recent economic system that is increasingly capitalist in nature. While the Shanghai municipality officially strives to turn Shanghai into a global city, its actions are leading it in the opposite direction, by actively enabling the redevelopment and disappearance of its living heritage, and therefore, of the very soul of the global city. In the second section of the book, the four essays on environmental challenges all recognize the inherent fluidity of the urban, if for no other reason because cities exist as part of a wider ecology, and because disasters do not respect artificial boundaries or neat territorializations. The focus is particularly on issues of climate change, natural disasters, and environmental justice. Carmeli Marie C. Chaves looks at Cagayan de Oro in the Philippines, which was ravaged by Tropical Storm Washi and the impact it had on the natural, spatial, and physical nature of the city. She examines the postdisaster reconstruction of the city, outlining lessons learned for disaster risk reduction and urban planning for cities that are vulnerable to natural disasters. She finds that following the disaster, the

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

17

city of Cagayan de Oro mainstreamed disaster risk reduction in land use planning, regulated the use of areas around the river, and rehabilitated the city’s drainage systems – natural and man-made. This is a story that repeats itself in other instances as well. Examining climate change and related impacts in Bangkok, Danny Marks highlights how poor urban governance frameworks leads to climate injustice, particularly in the wake of natural disasters – in Bangkok’s response to the 2011 floods, for instance, as well as in the city’s climate change plans. In doing so, he brings together questions of urban governance, climate justice and urban planning through three distinct but connected case studies: the public transportation sector in Bangkok, the city’s response to the 2011 floods, and the coastal erosion in the southern part of Bangkok. Marks argues that the governance of Bangkok’s land and water resources has been unjust due to a combination of negligence and calculated policies to protect the elite at the expense of the poor. Marks’ frameworks of climate justice and urban political ecology help to reveal distributional injustices and differentiated exposure to climate change. The third paper in this section focuses on vulnerability to floods through the case of Kampung Muara Baru in Jakarta. Hendricus Andy Simarmata, Anna-Katharina Hornidge, and Christoph Antweiler explore perceptions of kampung residents of their own flood-related vulnerability, aiming to understand risk, vulnerability and resilience not from a top-down “expert” perspective, but from the point of view of the concerned stakeholders themselves. Placing flood-affected populations at the center of their study, they examine the capacity to adapt and build resilience to such natural disasters. The results from the case study area of Kampung Muara Baru are perhaps surprising: the residents fully understand that their kampung will keep getting flooded. Their coping strategies are based on experience: this form of local wisdom, drawing on experience, is useful in contextualizing the meaning of flood-related vulnerability in flood management, and represents “experiential knowledge” that the authors argue can be the basis for policies toward more resilient cities. The final chapter in this section bridges the gap between environmental concerns and the built environment, looking particularly at the role of green infrastructure (GI) in building resilience in urban India. In this chapter, Ian Mell looks at the relationship between rapidly urbanizing regions in Asia, and India more specifically, and the role that green infrastructure could play in helping build resilience to social and climatic change. He proposes that green infrastructure planning can be used as a basis for more sustainable approaches to investment in cities in India, with Ahmedabad

18 

Gregory Br acken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasar athy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

and the New Delhi National Capital Region as case studies. However, Mell concludes that the current limitations in green space planning, due among others to limited financial and political support in both cities, illustrate the difficulty of translating broader global discussions of GI into the specific geo-spatial contexts of India. The final section of this book looks at infrastructure, and new emerging forms of settlements. The cases in this section raise provocative questions about the transferability of urban infrastructure models and approaches across economic, political and cultural contexts in Asia and beyond. Urban contexts are highly heterogeneous, and institutions and governance contexts matter as much, if not more, than “technical” criteria when it comes to complex infrastructure systems. The two papers in this section focus particularly on questions of land, large-scale infrastructure and the impact this has for urban regions. Clément Musil studies Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Property” (R+P) development model as a blueprint for financing public transportation in cities across Southeast Asia. Hong Kong’s mass transit railway is famous all over the world for its successful mode of construction and operation (Tang and Lo 2008) and for being a system that generates profit without direct public subsidies (Cervero and Murakami 2009). Musil argues that the commercial success and efficiency of the urban rail system is the result of the strategic commitment of the Hong Kong government. He concludes that Hong Kong’s R+P model cannot be considered merely as a discrete technical project. Instead, it resembles more of a “learning process” that needs to incorporate long-term solutions as well as financially viable options necessary for the future of Chinese and Southeast Asian developing cities. Finally, Amogh Arakali and Jyothi Koduganti explore the phenomenon of urban infrastructure corridors emerging across Asia and examine what this means for urban regions, infrastructure development, and economic planning. They use the Delhi-Mumbai Industrial Corridor as an illustration, comparing it with other similar examples in Malaysia, China, and Japan. They note that these corridors are becoming ubiquitous across Asia, as they are an integral part of the plans of multilateral development banks, national governments, and regional trade groupings to link national and international regions. The corridors can overrule existing governance structures: they often operate under their own rules, independent of those of local governments, and they impose their own specific economic and business agendas – an example of global capitalist development, transcending boundaries, jurisdictions, and established governance forms, leading to what Arakali and Koduganti suggest is a “blurring of the boundaries

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

19

which conventionally existed between economic and urban planning” and in some cases, scenarios of “splintered urbanisms.” They conclude that, in the current macroeconomic environment where an export-led strategy is unlikely to yield benefits as significant as those in earlier decades, it is far from clear that the corridor model still addresses the most important development priorities. Brenner and Schmid (2014) call for a “new vocabulary of urbanization” to adequately capture the changing nature of urbanization processes and their “intensely variegated expressions across the contemporary world.” While this volume on its own cannot provide a ready-made vocabulary, its chapters do present a set of cases in Asia that illustrate in poignant fashion the “unstable, rapidly changing geographies of early twenty-first century capitalism” (Brenner and Schmid 2014) that necessitate such a vocabulary. The chapters in this book use particular lenses and locations as ways to examine larger urban challenges in Asian cities and beyond. These challenges include “human flourishing” in cities of the future. This requires – among others – economic well-being, a clean and secure environment, and the right to the city in the areas of access to adequate housing, services, and “life spaces” in the form of culture, urban heritage, public spaces, and associational life. These are challenges that have resonance also beyond cities in Asia. Questions of economic development, resilience to environmental challenges and sociocultural change resonate across urban regions in the world irrespective of their developmental status. This book hopes to further a conversation about the future of the “urban” in all its diverse forms, not just in Asia, but in the larger global context.

References Anand, Shriya, Jyothi Koduganti, and Aromar Revi. 2014. “Cities as Engines of Inclusive Development.” IIHS-Rockefeller Foundation Working Paper Series. IIHS and the Rockefeller Foundation. Brenner, Neil. 2004. New State Spaces: Urban Governance and the Rescaling of Statehood. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Brenner, Neil, ed. 2014. Implosions/Explosions: Toward a Study of Planetary Urbanization. Berlin: Jovis. Brenner, Neil and Christian Schmid. 2011. Planetary Urbanism. In: Gandy, M. (ed.) Urban Constellations. Berlin: Jovis. Brenner, Neil and Christian Schmid. 2014. The ‘urban age’ in question. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 38(3), 731-755.

20 

Gregory Br acken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasar athy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

Davis, Mike. 2006. Planet of Slums. London: Verso. Glaeser, Edward L. 2011. Triumph of the City: How Our Greatest Invention Makes Us Richer, Smarter, Greener, Healthier, and Happier. New York: Penguin. Hamel, Pierre, and Richard Keil, eds. 2015. Suburban Governance: A Global View. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Revi, Aromar. 2009. “Climate Change Risk: An Adaptation and Mitigation Agenda for Indian Cities.” In Adapting Cities to Climate Change: Understanding and Addressing the Development Challenges, ed. Jane Bicknell, David Dodman, and David Satterthwaite. London: Earthscan, 311-338. Revi, Aromar, and Cynthia Rosenzweig. 2013. “The Urban Opportunity: Enabling Transformative and Sustainable Development.” Background Research Paper. IIHS. Sankhe, Shirish, Ireena Vittal, Richaard Dobbs, Ajit Mohan, Ankur Gulati, Jonathan Ablett, Shishir Gupta, Alex Kim, Sudipta Paul, Aditya Sangvi, and Gurpreet Sethi. 2010. “India’s Urban Awakening: Building Inclusive Cities, Sustaining Economic Growth.” McKinsey Global Institute. Stone, Bryan, Jr. 2012. The City and the Coming Climate: Climate Change in the Places We Live. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. United Nations Population Division. 2014. “World Urbanization Prospects. The 2014 Revision. Highlights.” UN Department of Economic and Social Affairs.

Biographies Gregory Bracken is an Assistant Professor of Spatial Planning and Strategy at TU Delft and one of the cofounders of Footprint, an e-journal dedicated to architecture theory. From 2009 to 2015 he was a research fellow at the International Institute for Asian Studies (IIAS) Leiden, where he set up (with Dr. Manon Osseweijer) the Urban Knowledge Network Asia (UKNA) with a €1.2 million grant from Marie Curie Actions. His publications include Asian Cities: Colonial to Global (Amsterdam University Press, 2015) and The Shanghai Alleyway House: A Vanishing Urban Vernacular (Routledge 2013, translated into Chinese in 2015). Paul Rabé is academic coordinator of the cities cluster at the International Institute for Asian Studies (IIAS) in Leiden, the Netherlands, which includes two networks of urban scholars: the Urban Knowledge Network Asia (UKNA) and the Southeast Asia Neighborhoods Network (SEANNET). In addition, Paul is Senior Land Expert at the Institute for Housing and Urban Development Studies (IHS) of Erasmus University Rotterdam, where he heads the

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

21

Urban Land Governance team. He is a political scientist by training, with a doctoral degree in policy, planning, and development from the University of Southern California’s Sol Price School of Public Policy. Paul’s motivation is to bridge the divide between academia and practice when it comes to our approaches to cities. His engagement is in both worlds: he has over 20 years of experience in advisory work and capacity building as well as research and teaching on urban policy topics. His research and professional interests focus on urban land governance and access to land for social, economic, and environmental uses. His current focus is on the intersection of land policy and the management of water resources in urban and peri-urban areas. Dr. R. Parthasarathy is a MEGA Chair Professor and Director, Gujarat Institute of Development Research. He has both teaching and research interests. Until recently, he was teaching at CEPT University to postgraduate and graduate students, besides guiding MA and PhD dissertations. In his research, he explores relations between resources management and the social distributions of power, leadership, and economic development and the impacts of policy and development organizations on these relations. In all these, the special focus has been on large-scale infrastructure in rural and urban areas. He has been a visiting scholar at the University of California, Berkeley, USA, and at the University of British Columbia, Canada. He has coauthored and coedited books and has published extensively. Neha Sami studies urban and regional development and governance in postliberalization India. Her research focuses on the governance arrangements of megaprojects, regional planning, and the environmental governance questions in Indian cities, particularly around issues of climate change adaptation. Neha is currently a member of the faculty at the Indian Institute for Human Settlements in Bangalore, India, where she teaches on questions of governance and sustainability as well as anchors the research program. She also serves on the editorial collective of Urbanisation. She holds a PhD in urban planning from the University of Michigan, an MA in environmental management from the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies, and a BA in economics from the University of Mumbai. Dr. Bing Zhang is the Chief Planner of the China Academy of Urban Planning and Design and Adjunct Professor at Tongji and Tianjin Universities. He chairs the Academic Committee of Historic City Conservation, Urban Planning Society of China. He has published a series of outstanding works in urban and regional planning, including a number of books and more

22 

Gregory Br acken, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasar athy, Neha Sami, and Bing Zhang

than 70 papers on theory and history, heritage conservation, and strategic planning. In 2012-2016, as a pilot researcher, he has been involved in the Urban Knowledge Network Asia (UKNA) and was a visiting scholar at TU Delft in 2012, at the Development Planning Unit, UCL, in 2013, and at ENSAPB in Paris in 2015.

2

Human Agency in the Asian City Shiqiao Li Abstract Instead of yearning for absolute freedom as in the Western city, human agency as an idea seems to be generally understood as conditional in the Asian city. This chapter discusses the obscuring of indigenous urban traditions in Asia, the role of human agency in relation to the meanings of property ownership, conceptions of human labor, and the aesthetic experience of contingency, in an attempt to explore alternative ideas and practices of the place of human life in the environment. Human agency in Asian cities contains elements of intellectual and urban insights that have potential for future cities. However, these potentials and insights must be excavated and reformulated in order to gain theoretical and political efficacy in our fast-changing world today. Keywords: human agency, land rights, labor, aesthetics of contingency

The assertion of Asia – and the Asian city – has largely been a social-political project: to build independence from its colonial dependence through the constructs of nation-states and national identities; it comes with all the intellectual anxieties and practical difficulties associated with this project. This chapter seeks a different kind of opportunity in the virtue of diversity of urban ideas and realities, which is crucially important, like in an ecosystem, to the long-term viability of city making. Have we been thrown off balance by the ever-increasing forces of monoculture today? Quite possibly; we pursue more or less similar goals worldwide with intense competition for the same finite resources. Crucially, we change our environment with cities, which, in the last instances, are imagined with intellectual conceptions, even though these conceptions are often obscured by the bustling appearances of commerce and entertainment, and by the immediate environmental and humanitarian crises taking place in them. What makes Hong Kong and

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch02

24 Shiqiao Li

Florence look and feel so different is not only the commodities or cultural performances that both cities house (today they have much in common), but also the real and material differences that result from intellectually formulated design and organizational decisions: Who has the final say in the use of land? Should we partition the city? How open or closed should a city be? What is a beautiful city? In each case, answers can be very different, leading to different physical outcomes. Articulating these differences would only make sense if they have potential to offer alternatives to our current intellectual predicament over the future of the environment. Western conceptions played an exceptionally influential role in the way cities were built in the past centuries; while enormously effective in bringing prosperity and well-being to cities, maintaining a “civilized life” in one place often relies on exploitations in other places: free and cheap labor in slaves and sweat shops, free and cheap resources seized forcefully, and free and cheap manufacturing capabilities that often produced negative externalities elsewhere. In this chapter, I propose to establish three broad differences in the Asian city in relation to the Western city: a conception of inclusive land rights, a normative understanding of labor, and an aesthetics of contingency in cultural life. All these aspects have direct and deep consequences in city making; they formulate much more moderate levels of human agency in cities. These differences will be discussed in relation to a very different set of frameworks: the conception of exclusive land rights, the denigration of labor, and the aesthetics of schemas of abstraction. The second set of frameworks are dominant today; however, buried in extensive Western influences, the first set of frameworks are still clearly visible. These frameworks are some of the most powerful forces in city making. While the notion of the Asian city is a tentative one, this chapter aims to use this tentative conception, with adequate and sufficient coherence, to advance indigenous intellectual formulations and their connections to cities.

Think with Asia, not about Asia The past four hundred years saw an enormous convergence of intellectual forms throughout the world toward what might be described as the singular framework of modernity. Prior to that, intellectual forms were much more diverse – Asian thought was part of that diversity – that sustained distinctiveness of cultures before they are turned into signifiers today. Immanuel Wallerstein characterized the starting point of this convergence as the rise of a world-system – a system of economic production and exchange that

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

25

functioned as some form of proxy mechanism of convergence (Wallerstein 2011). This world-system subverted the economies prior to the sixteenth century with China and the Silk Roads as the main network of the world’s economic activities. The structural forces of the world-system, to think with Giovanni Arrighi, are capitalism, industrialism, and militarism (Arrighi 2009); these, in combination, supplied the strategies and instruments of hegemony for a succession of economic-military empires: Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, British, and American. In the nineteenth century, at the height of Western domination of the world through colonization and capitalism, Asian societies were transformed into nation-states following a similar transformation in the previous centuries in Europe, and their cultures were heavily reconstituted based on Western institutions of governance, economy, and society. Through colonization in India and Southeast Asia, the Meiji Restoration in Japan, the Hundred Days’ Reform in China, and a succession of reforms and revolutions in the twentieth century, Asian societies have attempted to internalize Western modernity as the default political and social aspiration. China was resistant to this integration, but was eventually forced into the world-system by the Opium War. The Hundred Days’ Reform in China in 1898, unlike the Meiji Restoration in Japan, was a spectacular failure; its main protagonists either were executed or went into exile. However, the Qing imperial court found an acceptable compromise: the idea of “Chinese culture as essence and Western culture for utility” (Rowe and Kuan 2004). But this quickly gave way to an argument for Western-style science and democracy in the May Fourth Movement in early twentieth century, which also entailed a total abandonment of the Confucian tradition. The Cultural Revolution of 1966 took this sentiment of abandonment of Chinese tradition to the extreme, although sometimes in name rather than in substance; it certainly laid down some of the unique foundations for architecture and urbanism for today’s China. Whichever route Asian societies took to become nation-states playing a part in the “periphery” or “semi-periphery” regions in the world-system, their economic and political success depend on the extent to which they integrate into the existing hierarchies of the institutions of capitalism, industrialism, and militarism. During the past century, Asian cultures have been, in different ways, removed and dislocated from their traditional intellectual anchors; instead of cultural continuity, there have been massive ruptures with the past in pursuit of modernity. The indigenous cultural traditions in Asia, in this context, underwent a process of “traditionalization”; the birth of modernity in Asia is also the birth of its “ancient traditions.”

26 Shiqiao Li

Asia’s assertion to its social-political independence will not be complete without regaining its intellectual independence. Difficult as this task may be, it is not impossible to imagine, even at the time when the notion of the “traditionalized Asia” is so hard to overcome. As our collective knowledge of cultures and traditions accumulate, and our intellectual frameworks develop, we will be in a position to see that contemporary life and change is not the monopoly of modern thought, and that liberty and science are not exclusive features of Western civilization. In their embryonic forms, the dao and brahma are deeply rooted in the yearning of freedom; Joseph Needham in his massive Science and Civilization in China, among others, demonstrates that the West neither invented science nor has an exclusive claim to it as modern thought (Needham 1954; Elman 2005). As Bruno Latour (1993) argues, it was not science but the “purification” of science – predicated on a deep dichotomy between the human and the nonhuman – that characterizes Western modernity and has led to its crisis. The prospect of thinking with Asia is tantalizing; there is a distinct possibility to review one of the most foundational intellectual instincts in Western thought: otherworldliness in spiritual life and idealization in intellectual and aesthetic life. Transcendence is above all the most desired object of knowledge for the intellect and the most desired experience for the psyche; this initial instinct characterizes Western civilization. It imagines a transcendental pure reason rather than mixtures of reason and emotion necessary to sustain life and society; it sees a transcendental afterlife to be distinctly different from the misfortunes of this life; it pursues a purified scientific knowledge instead of the totality of facts. The transcendentality of human life, rather than its embeddedness, seems to have given rise to the Western hubris of invincibility – science and technology will lead to total control of human destiny against biological and environmental obstacles – that motivates our political and economic decisions. However, many Asian cultural traditions do not seem to assume this immediate and all-embracing transcendentality. Marcel Granet observed that in Chinese thought there is “neither God nor Law,” both constructs of abstraction. It is immanence, not transcendence that motivates political and cultural choices in China. Immanence captures a process of intellectual and social production that is grounded in how things work actually (mixtures of heterogeneous events) rather than ideally (schemas of abstraction). In the Chinese cultural framework, political and cultural decisions are often explained and justified analogously through how natural systems have always worked. When Laozi calls for the merging of human and nature into one (the dao), immanence is at the center of this thought; to be one with nature and to “do nothing”

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

27

(wuwei), is not to resist the immanent underlying forces of heterogeneous events but to insert oneself judiciously and effectively within them. François Jullien captured this discussion through the unique Chinese notion of “propensity”; it is a force in politics as much as it is in aesthetics (Jullien 1993). Immanence is not ontology; ontological understanding begins with the question “What is?,” while immanent understanding begins with the question “How to?” Immanence is concerned with ways in which human actions insert into existing events, whatever the situation may be; the goal, in military strategy, in political action, and in aesthetic creation, is to seize the pre-existing propensity to a situation’s best advantage. Insertions – actions in the Western sense – are not preformulated according to standards; no eternal law governs them even though there are temporary consistencies in some aspects of events surrounding actions. Mastery and excellence come from capabilities of understanding a situation and experiences of seizing potentials effectively. One may be tempted to describe immanence as “flat ontology,” or “object-orientated philosophy,” but this is missing the central point. This way of thinking reverses the ontological thought; it suspends telos and extends logos in its construction of far-reaching scenarios. This feature in Asian thought inspired the extraordinary imaginations of Western thinkers from Voltaire and Schopenhauer to Nietzsche and Heidegger, who rebelled against the tradition of otherworldliness and idealization, attempting to construct alternatives with thing-based philosophy. This insight into the nature of ontology and its exteriority is increasingly crucial today; the discussions on Asian thought and the Asian city have the greatest potential to contribute to the renewal of our intellectual foundations in the twenty-first century.

Inclusive land rights At the heart of the Western conception of the city is the idea of exclusive land rights. C.B. Macpherson described it as “possessive individualism”: the idea that “freedom is a function of possession” (Macpherson 1962, 3); central to this possessive individualism is the possession of land, “the archetypal form of property” (Hann 1998, 5-7). “Political society becomes a calculated device for the protection of this property and for the maintenance of an orderly relation of exchange” (Macpherson 1962, 3). Within this framework, land and its improvement – architecture and the city – become exclusive property that embody economic value and social standing; they served as one of the most important foundations of capitalism. Today’s city operates

28 Shiqiao Li

on this basis, despite our tireless efforts to focus on the technological and aesthetic dimensions of cities as “the discipline of architecture.” Rapid and large-scale property speculations, which contribute to the glut of iconic buildings as marketing tools, to the homogeneity of building products as efficient financial instruments, and to the general superficiality of cut-andpaste culture as commodities, are grounded in the idea of exclusive land rights. While it is now the dominant liberal paradigm and the foundation of neoliberalism, this conception of exclusive land rights remains a fiction; its moment of clear articulation in John Locke was deeply embedded in the legitimation of the power of the English landowners (Whigs) in their struggle against the expansion of the power of the English monarchy in the late seventeenth century. Investigations into both premodern Western societies and a range of societies outside the Western tradition, suggest that exclusive land rights are far from the norm; the idea of exclusive land rights is, on the contrary, a culturally and deliberately constructed notion, one that not only pronounces exclusive property rights, but also spins off its opposite ideal in socialist state ownership. Implicit in the immanence of thought, there is an assumption of the nature of possession. Macpherson suggested that, instead of defining an exclusive right to property, we should perhaps regard this right as “a right not to be excluded.” This suggestion not only takes us back to an early European concept of common ownership of property before the enclosure movement, but also points to a range of non-Western traditions of land rights. What is exceptional in Asia is that, taking two of the largest and most ancient civilizations, India and China, the idea of an “inclusive” right to property has been a long-standing historical reality even though it is not written into legal documents; it is already in practice and it does not have to be reinvented for today. In traditional India, “each piece of land was the object of different rights relating to different functions, expressed in the right to a share of the produce or to some due from the cultivator” (Dumont 1980, 157). Despite the British insistence since 1858 on a model based on British property laws, land rights remained, to some degree, a common state entity. The move by the Janata government to revise property right from a “fundamental right” to a “constitutional right” in 1978 was initially prompted by the realization that the British notion of fundamental exclusive right to property did not work in India; instead of establishing clear rules for Indian society, it resulted in immense misery for poor people who, being deprived of property, fell into the trap of exploitation. The Janata government argued forcefully that property rights are different from more fundamental rights to freedom of speech, liberty, to move freely, to form association and

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

29

other rights; these latter and more fundamental rights were being eroded by the existence of the exclusive rights to property (Sharma 1990, 241). The longevity of this revision of the Indian constitution suggests the viability of a very different understanding of property rights, one that is far more inclusive than its British concept. Via a completely different route, the Chinese state claims the status of land as a common state entity, despite the fact that land use can be temporarily delegated for “private use and profit.” Unlike the Western socialist and communist ideals – themselves consequences of the Western conception of exclusive property rights – the Chinese practice followed a traditional cultural instinct. From 1949 to 1979, the Western-influenced socialist ideal did not, and could not, work for China, and the land reform during the 1980s allowed land use rights to exist, which resulted in a revision of the constitution of Article 10 in 1988 to legitimize the transfer of land use rights. Both the economies of India and China have developed tremendously; their developments demonstrate that exclusive land rights are not fundamental to the economic viability of societies as it is mythologized in the Western intellectual tradition. The ability of the Chinese state to first initiate perhaps the greatest urban transformation in human history (from the 1980s to the 2010s), and now to transform its energy use, has been crucially enabled by a very different concept of land rights. China’s current environmental crises are much more acute than those in many other parts of the world; this seems to be a result of a deliberate Chinese policy to see itself, for decades, as a place of cheap labor and weak environmental laws, attracting to China the most polluting and labor-intensive industries of the world. However, if this is to change, China’s framework of inclusive land rights will play a crucial enabling role in upholding environmental responsibility. Inclusive land rights certainly lend strength to enlightened environmental policy, which is possible for China; by the same token, exclusive land rights in the West hinder such a possibility, as Western governments are confined by legislative limitations set by exclusive land rights, and crippled by hardened partisan infighting played out through lobbying and veto (Fukuyama 2014). The logical consequence of conceiving inclusive land rights is the fundamental acknowledgement that land, like the atmosphere, is not just a state entity, but a world entity; we know that the overexploitation of one part of the world leads to environmental deterioration of other parts of the world. The status of the Arctic and Antarctica should come into this understanding as world entities, a status to which all land must aspire in the future. This is a challenge that generations to come will face. In this instance, Asian societies already, historically and implicitly, understand

30 Shiqiao Li

and practice a more layered conception of the nature of possession. In Daoism and Jainism the rights of nonhuman things are clearly conceived and respected. The politics of the nonhuman gained much attention in recent Western political thinking. Bruno Latour argued against an absolute divide between the human and the nonhuman, and Jane Bennett advanced that notion of the rights, power, and agency of things (Bennett 2010). The politics of land, like human parliamentary politics, also needs checks and balances against absolutism, much as the instinct against absolutism in the modification of the human body and mind. This new conception of “balance of power” may lead to a new world constitution of land and atmosphere based on the ethics of “biosphere integrity,” which must be safeguarded by new world executive powers. If we can no longer conceive rights to enslave other humans as we did for a long time, can we imagine a time when we can no longer claim exclusive rights to modify and “enslave” our environment, suspending our “fundamental rights” to exclusive landownership? Can we imagine United Nations institutions empowered to safeguard the rights of ecosystems, bringing to justice those who inflict violence on them for the most banal gains?

Normative status of labor Zoning in cities is practiced widely throughout the world today by means of strict zoning laws. While traditional Western cities have distinct areas of concentration of certain types of habitation and economic activities, contemporary zoning laws purify this tradition into sterile rules. Zoning may have improved productivity and hygiene of cities, particularly since the age of industrialization, but it also contributed toward longer commutes, homogenization of urban areas, and increasing scales of zoning that make parts of the city less conducive to social life. Zoning is a spatial classification of labor types, resulting from both the need for specialization of human labor in large-scale production and the formation of classes of people based on the kind of labor they offer. Both the classification of people and their spatial segregation have deep intellectual roots, as Hannah Arendt’s The Human Condition explains. The Greek agora, a space for the politics of the body and the mind, excluded women and slaves and thus certain types of corporeal activities. This moral and aesthetic enterprise of partitioning labor types is what Arendt highlighted in her writing on labor; she argued that there are two fundamentally different kinds of human exertion: labor and work. Work is immeasurably more human than labor; work makes human

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

31

life intellectually meaningful while labor reduces some aspects of human life to the level of animals. The result of work is long lasting while the result of labor is ephemeral (Arendt 1998). Despite the Christian sensibility of ora et labora – seeking spiritual enlightenment through manual labor – and the “city” of the monastery that reflected the ideal, Western cities in recent centuries have been increasingly partitioned, backed by legal frameworks of zoning regulations, into areas of labor types. This conception of labor not only defined the Greek citizen against the backdrop of the institution of slavery, but also the contemporary bourgeoisie against the backdrop of mechanical production. In the twentieth century, we have seen this way of building cities becoming extreme, with large stretches of cities turning into segregated zones. The city, gradually, has become an amalgamation of segregated islands of self-similar communities based on social classes, with gated communities and ghettos forming their extremities. This is far from the social ideals that we aspire to. In Asia, the instinct to classify labor types is far less compulsive than it is in the West; in this sense, the Asian city tends to be less partitioned according to categories of labor: more often one finds mixed modes of habitation, commerce, and production at all economic scales. One way to understand this condition is that in Asia, “freedom from labor” has never been framed as a moral and aesthetic goal, unlike the ancient Greek instinct to exclude labor from the ideal form of human life through the institution of slavery. Freedom, for ancient Chinese thinkers, comes not from liberation from labor, but from acting in accordance with your place in the social hierarchy; Confucius contends that in a hierarchy, the superior attains freedom like the father possesses freedom in front of the son. It is hard to find systematic denigration of labor in Chinese literary canons; labor (lao or laodong), it seems, has been understood as a normative human condition, not one to be removed (Li 2014). In both Singapore and Hong Kong, two cities that may be seen to have brought the Chinese conception of labor to contemporary life, labor types are accepted as normative and not transformed into ideologies. As former British colonies, both cities have inherited the Western conception of classification and partitioning of cities, but both reacted against it: Singapore’s deliberate mixing of races and income levels in its housing policy, and Hong Kong’s acceptance of high-density mixtures of habitation and commerce, contribute crucially to the functioning of two very different but equally sustainable Asian cities. Their recent practice of importing foreign domestic helpers came, it may be argued, not from a tradition of institutionalized slavery, but from that of the normative status of labor; there seems to be no moral repulsion against this form

32 Shiqiao Li

of indentured labor. At first glance, India’s caste system may seem to be the most excessive and unfair structure based on classifications of labor types; but Louis Dumont argued insightfully that the caste system seems to be, primarily, a system to materialize characteristics of the gradation of purity and pollution (Dumont 1980, 42-49), and secondarily, a classification of labor types. In many cases, caste status does not have parallels in the amount of material possessions. The caste system is fundamentally different from the institution of slavery. The British Raj in India amplified and expanded the caste system as a method of governance, which in many ways reflected the British method of governance based on its tradition of labor-based social stratification (Bayly 1999). Clearly a piece of brilliant political theater, Mahatma Gandhi’s insistence of his own manual labor in prominent and constant display (cotton spinning) highlighted a power of a tradition that is not rooted in the distorted caste system, but in the normative status of labor. Like his rejection of Western bourgeois appearances, Gandhi’s dedication to manual labor was a deliberate act: it challenged one of the most fundamental institutions of Western imperialism through the formation of social classes and slavery. The Gandhi Ashram blended spiritual enlightenment with farming and animal husbandry; it laid out a city – not unlike the medieval monasteries – where classification and partitioning of labor types cease to be the foundational organizational principle.

Contingency as aesthetic experience Aesthetic experiences – cultivated emotional responses that are more often conventional than transgressive – have a powerful influence on strategies of city making. One of the longest lasting aesthetic conventions in the Western tradition seems to be rooted in schemas of abstraction. In Plato’s Timaeus, one finds an embryonic form of this convention in the explanation of the cosmic structure as schemas of abstraction in numbers and geometries. One consequence of this convention with regard to the city is the tendency to see cities as exclusively planned and regulated places, appearing to be practical versions of ideal forms. The informal and the contingent in the city – events and spaces that fill the gaps of planning oversights – are relatively attractive as research themes in academia, but they do not seem to have an established practice with sufficient strength to influence mainstream planning. Can a different aesthetics of contingency

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

33

enable a different kind of sensibility in how cities function, one that is comfortable with urban complexities? The theoretical territories of beauty are particularly engaging in relation to the creation and management of cities. Informality gained currency in recent discussions in urban design, as if it is an exceptional condition that has been unfairly neglected in the past. The opposite is the case; formality in urban design has been the exception in the history of cities. Formality is the urban equivalent of the rise of bourgeois manners in the eighteenth century, part of a cultural production of politeness that anchored the bourgeois class eager to be seen to be free from unnecessary labor. The ownership of property grounded in exclusive land rights; the ostensible avoidance of labor and the laboring body, came together, as Thorstein Veblen argued, in the eighteenth century in the form of performative realizations of bourgeois leisure through manners and estates (Veblen 2007). Cultivated aesthetic experience is perhaps the most deep-rooted way to sustain intellectual traditions; here, the beauty of formality, tenuously sustained by exploitations of labor and by the contrivance of partitioning cities, has been uniquely and truly exceptional in historical terms. It is hardly surprising that formality has become more and more impossible to sustain environmentally and socially in the twenty-first century; the current way of life in Western cities can only be sustained by a global financial and production system (the world-system) in which certain labor types are, through the global financial and production system, “exported” to distant locations. The destructive pattern and the inherent volatility of this global financial and production system are perhaps some of the major drivers of our discussion of “informality” today, but they seem to be trapped in the foundational formulation of the duality of formality and informality. To circumvent the formality and informality formulation, we must return to the discussion of immanence in aesthetic terms: the aesthetics of contingency is embedded in strategies of insertions into the existing formations. In the philosophical idea of “Indra’s net,” which symbolizes the universe as a web of interconnections, there is a vivid picture of this continuum of interdependence: [E]verything that exists, or has ever existed, every idea that can be thought about, every datum that is true – every dharma, in the language of Indian philosophy – is a pearl in Indra’s net. Not only is every pearl tied to every other pearl by virtue of the web on which they hang, but on the surface of every pearl is reflected every other jewel on the net. Everything that exists in Indra’s web implies all else that exists. (Brook 2009, 22)

34 Shiqiao Li

François Jullien sees a similar force in the Chinese tradition in shi (propensity); a word of no real equivalent in Western thought, shi is indicative of a distinct character of military, political, and aesthetic practices through its frequent use in the Chinese language. The beauty of calligraphy, for instance, is a potential continuously actualized as the calligrapher moves the brush forward, realizing earlier potentials and creating later potentials at the same time. Beauty, in this case, has no predetermined schemas in proportions and sketches; proportions and sketches would have been considered as compensations for the lack of mastery of the art. In Chinese calligraphy, guiding grids laid out on paper are only used for beginners. This is a notion of beauty rooted in the freedom through training and practice, manifested as a masterful ability to capture potentials born out of situations. The spectrum of aesthetic experience of contingency range from the glorious all-inclusive amalgamation in India to the determined essentialization in Japan. The practice of the aesthetics of contingency in Asian cities offers an intriguing terrain for thought: What constitutes the beauty of potentials of life spheres in cities? How do we develop effective aesthetic strategies – and urban policies – that can create advantage of all aspects of life spheres in cities?

The future of human agency in cities Human agency in the Asian city, traditionally, preserves a relatively modest position when compared with the exultation of humanism in the Western city. One of the most important future urban issues is to understand and maintain a reasonable level of human agency in cities: What kinds of human conditions should architecture and the city maintain and protect? Things can go terribly wrong in both Western and Asian cities: the Western hubris of human invincibility and the delusion of total freedom leads to unsustainable levels of greed, exploitation, and neurosis, while the Asian politics of power concentration and manipulation is dark and ruthless. In laying out different scenarios for the future, we set up a platform for choices. The Western city is an enormous monument to human ingenuity; the popular and intellectual histories of cities are justifiably proud of the pinnacles of this achievement, from Athens and Rome to London, Paris and New York. However, underneath the intoxicating sophistications of art, culture, and technology, the Western city laid down, at its foundations, some of the most powerful forces to usurp human life, forces that have taken

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

35

centuries to reach their effective proportions. Lewis Mumford framed this dormant usurpation as a perversion: the Western city turned the prudent peasant ideals upside down, deliberately and defiantly uprooting itself from the sustenance of life (Mumford 1961, 37). Its distain of the laboring body, among all the urban perversions, stands out as one of the most influential perversions shaping our cities today. Together with the notion of exclusive land rights and the aesthetics of schemas of abstraction, the denigration of labor compels us to construct ever more extensive and complex global production systems, to invent chemical and mechanical systems to enable exploitative monoculture and manufacture, leaving us with enormous environmental and humanitarian crises in the twenty-f irst century. A reconsideration of these basic intellectual concepts could lead us to very different places, where the laboring body finds a place in the city alongside creativity and culture, where the products of labor reduce and eliminate the reliance on the global and exploitative monoculture and manufacture, where cities are far less partitioned based on labor types, and more organized according to life spheres. This is an urban future that is grounded not in abstract ideals of the human but in biological principles to which we are inextricably bound. This is where the Asian city can enter into this larger scheme of things; its immanent intellectual tradition engages thought at the level of things and events actually taking place, navigating through understanding and creativity in search of potentials born out of situations. This thought is forever earthbound, thinking with concrete logic rooted in unchanging conditions such as the flows of water and the gusts of wind; it is this logic of thought that generates a profound acceptance of labor types, and a deep humility of humans in the context of the environment. It does not place final authority of action in humans (or their otherworldly authority in supernatural beings), but in the environment as it is. The flows of the world and the wishes of humans come together, in well-managed situations, as smooth dances; in poorly managed situations, both the world and humans suffer. Human agency, like all agencies of power, is limited; but human capacity for the thrill of adventure, the intensity of love, the pleasure of ideas, and the delight in making will remain in this new framework. The history of power sharing in the Western tradition has so far entirely been constructed among humans as “possessive individuals”; the slow expansion of suffrage from human males made of the same race and class, to human males made of different races and classes, to human females made of different races and classes, marks the importance of change. With each major modif ication of suffrage, there have been modif ications of

36 Shiqiao Li

the meaning of freedom; the meaning of eighteenth-century European bourgeois freedom – free from the laboring body sustained by slavery – became unacceptable as a working definition of freedom. It is certainly not unreasonable to imagine a future modification of our current meaning of freedom, which is made possible by excessive exploitation of transnational labor and the environment. “Universal suffrage” is a distant goal; unless we are willing to accept a form of politics that takes into account the power of things, we will not have universal suffrage, nor a meaningful alternative to address our current environmental and humanitarian crisis. In the Asian city, there is a more expanded sense of suffrage between humans and things: from a universal equality among all living things, to the stronger powers of the human collective, to the power of the mythical environment. However, the suffrage of humans has often been conceived as subservient to the concentration of power, and the politics of manipulation has taken over that of persuasion. If change is the norm, then the Asian city needs to change in two interrelated ways. First, it should change to f ind its theoretical voice and intellectual independence rooted in the immanence of its thinking; illumination through parables and analogies has been its traditional method of expressing ideas, but theoretical persuasion at effective levels of progressive exposition would reinvigorate its wisdom. The Asian city has been “spoken for” by the West: fantastical, exotic, informal, chaotic, and overcrowded; it needs its own speech in immanence and equality. To assume a responsibility that is commensurate with its achievements, the Asian city needs to move away from orientalism and chinoiserie, and toward a persuasive model of a more equitable existence in the world. Second, it needs to reconstitute its politics so that individual human agency can gain a legitimate seat in the parliament of things. Twentieth-century political experiences of Japan, Singapore, India, Hong Kong, Korea and Taiwan have already effected tremendous changes toward a better position of individual human agency, following the achievement in the West and moving beyond the traditional reliance on power concentration and manipulation. The separation of exclusive land rights from the more fundamental rights of speech, liberty, mobility and association in the Indian constitution is an instructive case in which modification of the human hubris can be made without curtailing human potential. The twenty-f irst-century Asian city is both an archive and a project; it is an important place for our deep-rooted humanism (or more fittingly “human exceptionalism”) to reformulate itself.

Human Agenc y in the Asian Cit y

37

References Arendt, Hannah. 1998. The Human Condition, 2nd Ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Arrighi, Giovanni. 2009. Adam Smith in Beijing: Lineages of the 21st Century. London: Verso. Bayly, Susan. 1999. Caste, Society and Politics in India from the Eighteenth Century to the Modern Age. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bennett, Jane. 2010. Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things. Durham: Duke University Press. Brook, Timothy. 2009. Vermeer’s Hat: The Seventeenth Century and the Dawn of the Global World. London: Bloomsbury. Dumont, Louis. 1980. Homo Hierarchicus: The Caste System and Its Implications. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Elman, Benjamin A. 2005. On Their Own Terms: Science in China, 1550-1900. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Fukuyama, Francis. 2014. Political Order and Political Decay: From the Industrial Revolution to the Globalization of Democracy. London: Profile Books. Hann, C.M. 1998. “Introduction: The Embeddedness of Property.” In Property Relations: Renewing the Anthropological Tradition, ed. C.M. Hann. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1-47. Jullien, François. 1993. The Propensity of Things. New York: Zone Books. Latour, Bruno. 1993. We Have Never Been Modern. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Li, Shiqiao. 2014. Understanding the Chinese City. London: Sage. Macpherson, Crawford Brough. 1962. The Political Theory of Possessive Individualism: Hobbes to Locke. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mumford, Lewis. 1961. The City in History: Its Origins, Its Transformations, and Its Prospects. San Diego: Harvest Books. Needham, Joseph. 1954. Science and Civilization in China. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rowe, Peter G., and Seng Kuan. 2004. Architectural Encounters with Essence and Form in Modern China. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Sharma, Naveen. 1990. Right to Property in India. New Delhi: Deep & Deep Publications. Veblen, Thorstein. 2007. The Theory of the Leisure Class, ed. Martha Bantam. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wallerstein, Immanuel. 2011. The Modern World-System I: Capitalist Agriculture and the Origins of the European World-Economy in the Sixteenth Century. Berkeley: University of California Press.

38 Shiqiao Li

Biography Shiqiao Li is Weedon Professor in Asian Architecture, University of Virginia, where he teaches history and theory, and architectural design studios. He researches on urban theory and his main books include Understanding the Chinese City (2014), Architecture and Modernization (2009), and Power and Virtue: Architecture and Intellectual Change in England 1650-1730 (2007).

3

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable City Scenarios The Transformation of Urban Villages in Shenzhen Lei Qu

Abstract Currently Shenzhen is experiencing industrial upgrading and city reprofiling, transforming from a world factory to a world city. It is a crucial moment to rethink the future of urban villages in the city, informal settlements that emerged extensively along with rapid industrialization and urban development in the past three decades, and played essential roles as “arrival cities” for migrants. This chapter investigates the formation process of urban villages as well as planning strategies for future development, from the perspective of urban form and governance. Urban vitality, livability, and inclusiveness are addressed as multidimensional urban values that could generate common interests among stakeholders, which therefore could be considered desirable and possible future scenarios for such neighborhoods in Shenzhen. Keywords: migration, urban regeneration, livability, urban vitality, inclusive development

Introduction The development of Shenzhen started in the late 1970s. It was the first special economic zone in China, a “lab” of economic reform and the opening-up of the country to foreign investment. A rapid process of industrialization started ever since, and it became a “world factory” attracting foreign investments for export-oriented labor-intensive manufactory industries, which led to a huge influx of migrants. After more than three decades of

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch03

40 Lei Qu

development, the city grew from a town of 300,000 people to a big metropolis with a population of more than 10 million. Nowadays Shenzhen is very often mentioned as a city of migrants, with a floating population of 7.46 million, according to statistics from 2014. Although this number is not as high as Beijing (8.03 million floating population in 2013) and Shanghai (9.96 million floating population in 2014), the proportion of migrants in Shenzhen (69.2% of the total population in 2014) is much higher than in Beijing (38% of the total population in 2013) and in Shanghai (41% of the total population in 2014).1 These numbers imply challenges for the future urban development of Shenzhen in the context of migration, namely, accommodating newcomers and integrating them in the city socially and spatially. In the past three decades, urban villages have contributed greatly in meeting such challenges. This is a special type of informal settlement, which emerged during the rapid industrialization and urbanization processes in Shenzhen, also seen in other cities in the Pearl River Delta (such as Guangzhou). Built by former villagers whose farmland was transformed into urban use, these urban villages are accommodating large numbers of migrants (the so-called “floating population”) who need affordable rental housing. Unlike informal settlements in other Asian countries, urban villages in Shenzhen are not “slums,” but collectively planned and managed human settlements. Although most of the people living in urban villages are low-income migrant workers, there are also increasing numbers of young professionals living in these neighborhoods, especially in central urban districts. One could say that urban villages have been playing essential roles as “arrival cities” for young starters, providing affordable solutions for accommodation, daily commuting and consumption. The ways urban villages were formed and transformed have had a great impact on the sociospatial transformation of Shenzhen, such as changes in land use, urban form, property ownership, and social relations. Currently Shenzhen is in a transition period, reprofiling itself from a “world factory” to a “world city.” The city is undergoing an industrial upgrading process. Knowledge-based service industries are increasing while the labor-intensive manufacturing industries are gradually moving out. This is more visible in central urban districts (the former special economic zone along the border of Hong Kong) than in peripheral areas. As shown in Figure 3.2, industrial areas are mostly found in peripheral districts according to the Shenzhen Comprehensive Plan for 2007-2020, which coincide with locations of urban villages (Shenzhen Planning Bureau 2007). This indicates 1 http://www.sz.gov.cn/tjj/tjj/xxgk/tjsj/tjnj/; http://www.bjstats.gov.cn/tjsj/ndsj/; http://www. stats-sh.gov.cn/html/sjfb/tjnj/. Data taken from websites on Accessed on 24 March 2019.

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

41

Figure 3.1 Maps of (A) China, (B) Shenzhen, (C) Hubei Village, and (D) Qingshuihe District

Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

the sociospatial distribution of migrant workers in Shenzhen, and their living-working environment. Along with the industrial upgrading process, changes in the social structure of Shenzhen are foreseeable, with more highly educated migrants working for the new knowledge-based economy. New demands related to livability and urbanity will be generated. After more than three decades of rapid development, there is very limited land for further urban expansion. Spatial development in Shenzhen is focusing more and more on existing built-up areas. Urban regeneration is therefore playing a crucial role in reshaping the spatial structure at the city-regional level and urban form at the neighborhood level. In this sense, the future of the city lies within its existing urban fabric. Urban villages, as one type of the “old urban fabric” in Shenzhen, have been at the center of discussion and practice in recent years, especially those located in central urban areas. Driven by market forces, Tabula Rasa approaches were adopted in the renewal of urban villages in central locations. For example, the site of KK 100 (also called Kingkey Finance Tower, the highest building in the city before 2015) used to be part of the urban village Caiwuwei. This model of financing large-scale urban renewal with densification and gentrification on site was favored by developers and villagers, not only in Shenzhen, but also in other

42 Lei Qu Figure 3.2 Locations of urban villages and planned industrial areas in Shenzhen

Source: Shenzhen Comprehensive Planning on Industrial Distribution 2007-2020, Shenzhen Planning Bureau, redrawn by the author

cities in the region, such as the case of Liede village in Guangzhou. What’s more, local authorities are also experimenting with neoliberal approaches that embrace market forces in such pilot projects (Li et al. 2014), to explore feasible models for urban regeneration. As a consequence, issues related to the decrease of affordable housing for migrants in central urban areas emerged, which have generated enormous debate in society. This is also the starting point of this chapter, to explore alternative ways of development that may lead to a more inclusive future scenario. Besides, considering urban regeneration and migration as long-term processes related to the future development of Shenzhen, livability and urban vitality are also values to be enhanced for all social groups. Lefebvre stated in The Production of Space (1991, 59) that “new social relations demand a new space, and vice-versa.” This chapter will not only give special concern to the migrant workers who are vulnerable, but also pay attention to social relations that involve various groups and stakeholders. Therefore “inclusive, vital and livable city scenarios” indicating multidimensional values are emphasized in this chapter as the framework for a discussion about urban regeneration in Shenzhen.

Theoretical framework and methodology These abovementioned three values have different sets of indicators for assessment, although some of these indicators overlap. “Inclusive city”

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

43

is emphasized by the World Bank, in response to the rising inequality and exclusion within cities, propelled by the global economy and rapid urbanization. It is about social justice reflected in sharing of the benefits of urbanization by people (World Bank n.d.). Different to such a city scale discourse, the “livable city” emphasizes livability at the neighborhood scale, which “reflects the wellbeing of a community and represents the many characteristics that make a location a place where people want to live now and in the future” (Victorian Competition and Efficiency Commission 2008, xxi). The appreciation by an individual of the environment depends upon the needs of individuals, resulting from daily physical interactions with the urban environment and from social interaction (Gifford 1997). Perceived livability is partially explained by a social structure (Van Dorst 2010). It therefore differs when the social structure changes. As for “vital city,” it refers to the socioeconomic and cultural liveliness of cities. Key indicators of urban vitality are the copresence of people as well as the social, cultural, and economic activities in public spaces (Zhou 2012). What are effective planning and design strategies that could reshape the urban form and social relations in Shenzhen, toward these desirable scenarios? In order to answer this question, a better understanding of the current status is needed: how is the city functioning in regard to inclusiveness, livability, and urban vitality? This leads to the focus of this chapter – urban villages. They are currently functioning as “arrival cities” for migrants and are considered as vital places to be, although spatial conditions in urban villages regarding housing typology, infrastructure, and public space still need to be improved. Currently, there is a policy concern of incorporating informal settlements like urban villages into the affordable housing system. However, strategies are needed to implement such ideas. At this moment, there are still no feasible approaches to improve public spaces and housing conditions in urban villages, due to the complex land and property ownership situation. This chapter is based on qualitative research, with empirical studies on the morphology of urban villages, the changing social demands on living and working conditions, and interests of stakeholders involved in urban regeneration. Methods that were used to conduct the research include a morphological study of urban villages in combination with an analysis of governance models and a stakeholder analysis based on semi-structured interviews with migrant workers, district government, and village collectives. Last but not least, the research is embedded in the contextual framework of industrial upgrading, migration, and urban development. Special attention

44 Lei Qu

is paid to new planning and design strategies that are more effective than the traditional ones, with regard to regeneration of existing neighborhoods, facilitating the formation of positive social relations. The research questions that guided this chapter include the following: How were urban villages formed and managed in the urbanization process in Shenzhen? What are the roles of urban villages in the transitional period? And to what extent do the public, private and third sectors share development interests in improving the public domain in urban villages?

Morphological study on urban villages in Shenzhen The formation process The formation of urban villages is the spatial consequence of land requisition during the fast urbanization process. China has a dual land tenure system, with urban land owned by the state and rural land owned by rural collectives. Rural land includes farmland, homesteads, and land for construction. Land requisition for farmland is usually much easier compared to homesteads and land for construction when it comes to compensation and social consequences. Therefore, in many cases, rapid urban expansion was made possible by requisitioning farmland (Liu et al. 2010), with the spatial consequence of village enclaves inside the newly built urban areas (see Figure 3.3). In this case, farmland is converted into urban land, owned by the state, while the urban villages retain their rural collective ownership (Zhang et al. 2003). However, Shenzhen has followed a slightly different path, because of two periods of land reform in 1992 (for areas within the former special economic zone) and 2004 (for areas outside the former special economic zone), when the collective land of villages was transformed into state-owned land. Village collectives became joint stock companies, managing public domains and collectively owned properties of their villages. Instead of having land ownership, these villages only have land use rights (Yan and Liu 2013). Furthermore, along with land reform, the rural population in these villages became an urban population. Since then, the urbanization rate of Shenzhen reached 100%, which means that all farmers in Shenzhen had obtained citizenship. But these were just changes in the paperwork. Urban villages are still “gray zones” where planning policies and regulations are not functioning effectively. In reality, the joint stock companies manage urban villages

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

45

Figure 3.3 The formation process of urban villages in Shenzhen and the image of Hubei village

Source: Drawings from Zhang, F., 2013: P.24, P.25 Photograph taken by the author

in a similar way as village collectives. As for individual villagers, without further policy support, their skills and social networks also remain unchanged. Instead of planting crops, the villagers are now relying on rental revenues from their self-built houses for most of their family income. This has contributed to the spatial form of urban villages in Shenzhen, with highly densified buildings constructed on plots of homestead (see Figure 3.3). The density is reflected in the average number of floors of buildings in urban villages, which is higher in central urban areas than in peripheral districts. The traditional form of rural villages has been largely transformed. Only in some villages are the old village houses still partly maintained, for example, in Hubei village in the central district of Luohu (see Figure 3.3). In principle, further construction in urban villages is not permitted anymore, after the two periods of land reform. However, the informal development process never stopped. On the contrary, there have been waves of construction in urban villages since 1990s, representing informal development in Shenzhen. Spatial form and social relations Although daily lives inside urban villages are not related to agriculture anymore, the villagelike living environment and sociocultural traditions

46 Lei Qu

still endure to a large extent. Therefore, the spatial form and functions in urban villages contrast greatly with the surrounding urban areas (Yan et al. 2004). The spatial structure of so called “new” urban villages (other than the inherited traditional villages) is mainly based on the 10 m x 10 m homestead plot that each family received during land requisition. Stimulated by rental income, most of the families tried to make the most out of their homestead land, by maximizing the floor area ratio on the plot, which has resulted in densely built apartment forests, without much room left for infrastructure and public spaces. Except for main roads, small alleys between buildings are usually very narrow, therefore these buildings are called “handshake buildings.” Although such urban forms do not meet official planning regulations and building standards, they are still functioning as a preferred – and in most cases the only – affordable choice for the low-income migrants (Du and Li 2010). These self-built apartment buildings are mostly for rent, with only a small portion occupied by the villagers themselves. Compared with the large number of migrants, the proportion of indigenous villagers is very low (Yan et al. 2004). Besides housing, there are also other urban functions inside urban villages. The ground floors of the buildings along main streets and some of the inner alleys are used for groceries, snack bars, and daily services like hairdressing, massage, and dental clinics, etc. (see Figure 3.4). Although, as mentioned above, physical conditions inside urban villages are problematic, they are still functioning as mixed-use neighborhoods where the daily lives of migrants can be accommodated. Many urban villages are even seen as vibrant places to be by citizens in Shenzhen (see Figure 3.4). One can notice that changes in social relations, or in other words, from rural to urban communities, happen much slower than the spatial transformation of urban villages. While physical changes in urban villages brought about by urbanization have been dramatic, the inherited social networks and cultural foundations have not been changing at the same pace. The tradition of clans/families based on kinship determines the historical identity, management model, and social-interaction pattern among people in urban villages, which are quite different compared to anonymous neighborhoods in cities, such as gated communities. Nevertheless, the rural identity of urban villages is fading away, partly due to the changing missions of village collectives and joint stock companies – from facilitating agricultural production to managing collectively owned properties. In short, urban villages provide interim spaces where modern urban identity and traditional rural identity coexist (Liu et al. 2010).

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

Figure 3.4a, b, and c Urban vitality perceived in streets/alleys in Hubei Village

47

48 Lei Qu

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

Photographs by the author

49

50 Lei Qu

Currently, joint stock companies play a major role in managing public domains in urban villages, which allow for inherited village-style selforganization and informality. For example, the open market in Hubei village (see Figure 3.4a) is a well-known informal market for seafood, using public spaces inside the old village. The joint stock company of Hubei village is managing the market, thereby facilitating an informal economy. The market has been very successful until now, attracting huge numbers of visitors from outside. In this case, informality contributes to the local economy, as well as to street vitality. However, not all urban villages have succeeded in the same way in self-management. Some of the urban villages are not able to provide public facilities and maintain public spaces without the support of the public sector. The physical conditions inside many urban villages seem problematic, with poorly constructed infrastructure, which leads to an unhealthy and unsafe living environment (Liu et al. 2010; Hao 2012). “Arrival cities” and housing affordability Saunders (2010) refers to informal settlements built by rural-urban migrants as “arrival cities,” or in other words functioning integration machines, where the postagriculture population can integrate into city life. In the current context of Shenzhen, urban villages are accommodating large numbers of migrants moving from rural to urban areas in search of better lives (Guo and Zhang 2006), as well as young professionals who are just starting their careers in the city. On the one hand, these urban villages can be considered as semi-urbanized neighborhoods for rural migrants that will be gradually integrated into urban society (Liu et al. 2010); on the other, some of these neighborhoods have also become temporary housing solutions for highly educated young professionals. In both cases, urban villages are functioning as affordable housing neighborhoods for a floating population and contributing to the creation of prosperous middle classes, which is the social value of successful arrival cities, as Saunders (2010) pointed out. Ever since the nationwide housing privatization in the late 1990s, there has been a large disparity in housing conditions between urban and migrant households, and a new type of housing poverty has emerged among migrant households (Sato 2006). In response to the shortage of affordable housing, various types of welfare-oriented housing schemes were implemented by the national government in the past decade. This has led to an unprecedented magnitude of construction of affordable housing in peripheral areas of Chinese cities, where land is available. The issue of sociospatial segregation thus started to emerge, even though these projects were mainly targeting

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

51

registered local residents and did not include the floating population. The housing affordability issue of migrants has not yet been tackled by the official housing system. Therefore, informal settlements like urban villages in Shenzhen could emerge and develop rapidly in the past decades. Recently, nationwide discussions have begun to address migrants and their rights to cities, in which housing affordability is one of the major concerns. It was already announced in the Twelfth Five-Year Plan of China (2011-2015) that the state would build an affordable housing system and provide public rental housing for middle-to-low income urban residents, including the floating population, with stable jobs in cities. The expected outcome was to increase the proportion of affordable housing by up to 20% of the total housing stock. Besides the quantitative goals, there are also other tasks, such as to optimize the spatial distribution of housing resources, improve public facilities, regenerate existing neighborhoods, enhance community development, and eventually improve livability. It has been pointed out that it would be essential to prevent the construction of large-scale affordable housing neighborhoods at the outskirts of cities just for the sake of fast development, especially in big cities. However, in practice, housing developments in peri-urban areas appeared in exactly this way in many cities, driven by land revenues. Not much attention was given to improving old neighborhoods like urban villages, as a source of affordable housing. Recent urban regeneration practices in Shenzhen have shown a tendency for large-scale redevelopment, replacing urban villages with high-end apartments, offices or commercial buildings. As mentioned earlier, the construction of the high-rise building KK 100 caused the demolition of part of Caiwuwei village in Luohu district. Motivated by the extremely high compensation, the joint stock company of Caiwuwei village is currently seeking new development opportunities for the rest of the village. Migrants who lived there however did not benefit from such spatial transformation. On the contrary, they had to find new places to stay. Due to the visible upgrading of the city’s image and urban functions, such an approach has been considered a preferred model for urban regeneration in Shenzhen from the perspective of the planning sector, especially for central urban districts. The planning concern in this model is mainly about making space for infrastructure and public facilities that are urgently needed. This is usually not possible in small-scale renovation projects. Nevertheless, the planning sector is aware of the fact that such a model will lead to the process of gentrification, with the consequence that tens of thousands of low-income migrants might lose affordable places to stay in the same neighborhood. Therefore, new policies

52 Lei Qu

are emerging that would maintain selected urban villages as affordable housing neighborhoods for migrants. Effective approaches to mediate the differentiated interests among stakeholders and eventually formulate a collaborative planning approach are still lacking.

The changing planning strategies and social demands To explore new planning and development approaches that are more inclusive, it is essential to understand the driving forces behind the abovementioned large-scale urban redevelopment projects: Who are the stakeholders involved, and what are their interests? Planning concerns and development strategies Since Shenzhen is currently reprofiling itself from the “world factory” to a “world city,” large urban projects are being used strategically as engines for industrial upgrading and spatial restructuring. For example, the redevelopment of the Sungang-Qingshuihe area in Luohu district is one of the ongoing large projects in Shenzhen. The area used to be the first logistics park of Shenzhen, however, its current functions and spatial conditions do not match the future vision of the municipal government, i.e., to enhance global city functions. The idea behind this urban redevelopment project is therefore to upgrade the derelict logistics park into a new center for global fashion and consumption and as a new headquarters location for creative industries. In 2011, the Sungang-Qingshuihe area was designated as one of the five top urban development units in Shenzhen, which were expected to be implemented in three to five years, and to contribute to the upgrading of urban functions and the city’s image. The total area of the site is 5.2 km 2, with a population of 155,200, in which the potential area for redevelopment is 200 ha. The planning aims in this project include: to stimulate sustainable economic development; to achieve more compact land uses by implementing the transit-oriented development (TOD) model; to provide public facilities and affordable housing; and to upgrade the environmental quality by encouraging low carbon redevelopment (UPLRC 2012). These concepts reflect clearly the interests of the public sector, and its preoccupation with potential areas for redevelopment. Urban villages are not among the potential areas for redevelopment, and therefore they were not addressed specifically. It was just indicated that urban villages would be integrated in the overall spatial composition.

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

53

The changing social demands The economic shift from labor-intensive industries to knowledge-based industries will inevitably cause changes in the social structure in Shenzhen. As new social groups associated with the knowledge economy emerge, new demands will be generated, calling for new urban forms. Here these demands are mainly referring to those related to urbanity and livability, which are still lacking in areas that have experienced decades of industrialization and spontaneous development. The urban fabric in these areas shows common characteristics of fragmented spatial composition, with the coexistence of various forms of compounds – urban villages, factories, warehouses, and industrial parks, etc. Spatial fragmentation, namely, a disconnect within the social fabric caused by physical barriers or unattractive spatial conditions – has resulted in “leftover” spaces that are not contributing to social interaction. Such issues exist within the central urban districts, but are less visible compared to peripheral districts. This is mainly because urban transformation driven by industrial upgrading started much earlier in central urban districts. This part of the city already has global city functions and could accommodate the lifestyles of the creative class. However, this process is just starting in the peripheral districts, where manufacturing industries are still concentrated (see Figure 3.2). Besides the emerging creative class, demands from rural-urban migrants are also changing. The first generation of migrant workers, who came to work in manufacturing industries in the 1980s and 1990s, were mainly seeking money to support their families in their hometowns. However, the current generation of young migrant workers has very different expectations. According to a survey done by the author and students of TU Delft in Dalang district in 2014, the young migrant workers show strong expectations of career development. Around 100 questionnaires were sent out, and 96 were collected, of which 92 are valid. In response to the question about their plans for the future, 34 people (37% of the total) expressed a willingness to stay in Shenzhen, while among the rest, 12 people (13% of the total) mentioned that they could not stay in Shenzhen because of the high living cost. With regard to desirable jobs in the future, 38 people (41.3% of the total) indicated jobs that fit their own interests and provide more freedom than their current ones (most of them are working on production lines); 9 people (9.8% of the total) mentioned the aim of becoming managers; and 31 people (33.7% of the total) expressed a wish to start their own businesses or become freelancers. Seventy-seven people (83.7% of the total) said that they would like to learn new skills to develop their career and to achieve a better life.

54 Lei Qu

The results of the survey reaffirmed the importance of “arrival cities” in the era of industrial upgrading, by facilitating the personal development of young migrant workers and ensuring affordable spaces for living and starting businesses.

Collaborative planning and adaptive design Differentiated interests among stakeholders In short, the challenges of reshaping the urban fabric in Shenzhen that began during the industrialization period in the past decades are multifold: (1) maintaining the role of urban villages as arrival cities for young starters, and adapting housing typologies to meet diversified demands for living across social groups, from rural-urban migrants to young professionals; (2) dealing with spatial fragmentation at the neighborhood scale, so that new urban forms could facilitate interaction between various social groups and eventually lead to positive social relations. Both challenges relate to a fundamental question of planning: What are the incentives for stakeholders involved, especially the private sector, in providing affordable housing and public spaces, which seem to be the role of the public sector? A good understanding of the interests of stakeholders is needed to answer this question. Generally speaking, stakeholders involved in urban regeneration processes in Shenzhen could be categorized into actors from the public sector, the private sector, and the third sector. Here the third sector is used to describe the emerging civil society, including a range of organizations from social enterprises and charitable foundations to nonprofit organizations, NGOs and volunteer groups, which are increasingly involved in social construction and community development in Shenzhen. The nature of these three sectors determines the differentiated concerns of stakeholders with regard to spatial transformation of the city and its neighborhoods. First of all, the local (district) government is the key actor of the public sector, whose interests regarding urban redevelopment include both economic growth and social construction. From the perspective of the government, creating public spaces and providing affordable housing and public facilities within neighborhoods are among their major concerns. However, these concerns are hard to implement in areas involving complex land ownership. As mentioned earlier, governments of the central urban districts have priorities in upgrading urban functions and the city image. Urban regeneration in these areas tends to follow the large-scale tabula rasa approach, so that

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

55

structural changes could be made, and public facilities could be largely placed into local neighborhoods. While in peripheral districts like Dalang, where development pressure is not as high as in central urban districts, and more than 90% of the local population are young migrant workers, the district governments are paying more attention to improving the social environment. In Dalang district, there are ongoing small-scale projects of improving public spaces and public facilities in urban villages, based on collaboration between the local government and villages (see Figure 3.5). Recently, supported by NGOs and social enterprises, community building as a campaign was initiated by the local government to improve social cohesion and enhance self-management in urban villages, starting from self-managing public spaces within neighborhoods. Responsibilities of individuals and groups were defined, with the aim of stimulating participation by people in community development. Combining spatial intervention, urban governance and community development may lead to new ways of planning and urban redevelopment. The individual villagers and joint stock companies are the main actors of the private sector in urban regeneration processes in Shenzhen when urban villages are involved. Their interests in urban redevelopment are closely related to property ownership, such as rental income increases generated from the renovation of public spaces, or compensation for relocation due to urban renewal. In the central urban districts of Shenzhen, where large-scale urban renewal projects are going on, villagers are expecting extremely high compensation for relocation, which becomes their only interest. In peripheral districts like Dalang, however, where tabula rasa redevelopment is less likely to happen, urban renovation becomes an option for villagers. If, according to interviews with villagers, joint stock companies or the district government invested in infrastructure improvements or created public spaces property owners would have more of an incentive to renovate their own houses to further enhance the benefit of rental increases. This process would then become a public-private partnership. Besides villagers and joint stock companies, there are also other stakeholders from the private sector, such as local enterprises and private developers. As in the case of villagers, these stakeholders might not have direct interests in the public domain, but would appreciate it if the public domains would be improved. This has to do with the added value that might be generated, such as the attractiveness of the place and higher land values. In areas involving complex land and property ownership, creating public-private partnerships to improve the public domain is strategic. The success of such partnership depends on the balance of economic incentives and social responsibilities on both sides.

56 Lei Qu Figure 3.5 Collaboration of local government and urban villages in improving public spaces and public facilities in Dalang district

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

Photograph taken by the author

57

58 Lei Qu

As mentioned above, the third sector is playing an increasingly important role in the social construction in Shenzhen, thanks to the support of local district governments. However, the third sector in general is still in the early stages of growth, not yet involved much in urban development processes. Nevertheless, social construction projects like community building could be combined with urban regeneration projects, and in this way, volunteer groups, NGOs, and social enterprises could contribute to the formation of positive social relations at the neighborhood level, where new urban forms are being shaped. Last but not least, migrant workers are the majority of local residents in areas with industries and urban villages, where this group should also be considered as stakeholders in the urban regeneration processes. Generally speaking, this is a vulnerable group (UN 1992), suffering from deteriorating living conditions and lacking tenure security. Their interests and demands may vary as individuals, but their voices could be heard as a group, with the help of the third sector. This could be considered as a form of participatory planning and design. Creating common interests through collaborative planning and design There are differentiated interests among stakeholders regarding urban regeneration, while there are also possibilities of creating common interests by working together on providing public goods. Collaboration and participation of stakeholders in improving the public domain depends very much on strategic spatial interventions and governance models that could bring multiple values to the local level, and ensure balanced costs and benefits among the stakeholders involved. In this sense, the planning and design of the urban fabric could be seen as an effective tool for communication and negotiation, and the process of planning and design as a process of participation. Achieving multiple values of inclusiveness, livability, and vitality at the neighborhood level could be seen as an aim and strategy at the same time. In line with Jane Jacobs’ understanding of the “organized complexity” of cities (Jacobs 1961), spatial conditions contributing to these values – especially urban vitality – are mainly referring to walkability, mixed uses, place identity, and room for self-organization at the neighborhood scale. In the context of Shenzhen, urban villages as informal settlements actually possess such spatial conditions. That is the reason many urban villages are seen as vital places in spite of their deteriorating physical conditions. Besides, such informality is also a solution to the crisis of affordability during the rapid urbanization process. In a time of economic

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

59

transition, it is crucial to maintain such characteristics of informality and self-organization in urban villages, as arrival cities of migrants and for social justice reasons. Nevertheless, the “inward looking” self-organization also turns urban villages into overcrowded compounds, with limited public spaces inside and spatial fragmentation along borders, in the form of fences, walls, or polluted river banks. Such spatial conditions of the public domain have obstructed common interests in further investment. Focusing on the basic needs of people, such as safety, could be a first step for improvement (Maslow 1970), including improving the level of spatial integration toward a better pedestrian-friendly environment and enabling the self-organization of mixed functions for place making, etc. This would be a process of cocreation, involving a wider range of actors than in the normal planning and development models. The incentives of stakeholders for participation and collaboration are mainly related to the aggregate effects of collective efforts in place making and multidimensional values associated with mixed-use characteristics of the place (see Figure 3.6). Conclusions Thirty-five years of development as a special economic zone have brought rapid industrialization and urbanization to Shenzhen, which could be seen as a miracle of urban planning and informal development. Urban villages in Shenzhen contributed largely to such a rapid development process, as “arrival cities” accommodating the majority of migrant workers and young professionals. Currently Shenzhen is in a transition period, experiencing industrial upgrading and spatial transformation, reprofiling itself from the “world factory” to a “world city.” As new industries, urban functions and social groups emerge, the old urban fabric will be transformed. It is therefore the crucial moment to rethink the future of urban villages, in the light of future developments in the city. After three decades of extensive urban expansion, the future development of Shenzhen will happen mainly within the existing urban fabric, since all land for construction is almost fully explored. This means that urban development and redevelopment have become one process. A much more sustainable way of transforming the existing built-up areas, compared to the tabula rasa approach that was used and is still in use, is to adapt and reshape the existing urban form for new social relations, using participation and collaboration among stakeholders. This includes the public and private sectors that have power, the emerging third sector that is essential for

60 Lei Qu Figure 3.6 Spatial conditions in urban villages facilitating livability and urban vitality

social construction, as well as the large number of migrant workers whose demands need to be heard. In this way, urban planning and design could be seen as tools for communication and negotiation, whereas the planning and design process would become a process of participation and collaboration.

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

61

Photograph taken by the author

Following such concepts, potential areas for spatial intervention are mostly associated with multiple urban values that may generate common interests among stakeholders, namely urban vitality, livability, and inclusiveness. Very often these areas for intervention belong to a durable

62 Lei Qu

spatial structure of the local neighborhood, contributing to walkability and place making. This, however, does not imply a blueprint plan of imposing a new spatial structure on the existing urban fabric, but instead acknowledges the need for organized complexity and room for self-organization. Strategic thinking on reusing negative spaces, ranging from tiny leftover “pocket” spaces in urban villages to borders of fragmented urban tissues and polluted riverbanks, could be effective in improving spatial integration in the neighborhood scale. Such an incremental development model will not lead to massive replacement of urban functions and populations, and could retain areas within urban villages as affordable places for living and working. Incentives for various stakeholders to participate and collaborate in this model lie in the multidimensional values created along with such urban regeneration processes – in other words, a win-win situation. To achieve this, design toolkits combining possibilities of spatial interventions and governance models are needed to optimize the use of space, balance costs and benefits, and clarify responsibilities among stakeholders for implementation and maintenance. Last but not least, although this research focuses on the specific case of Shenzhen, the issues at hand, and the proposed new ways of coping with these challenges, are not limited to the Chinese context. The case represents cities with inequalities in the rapid urban development process driven by economic transition. The formation and transformation of urban villages in Shenzhen might be inspiring for cities with informal settlements to rethink their own ways of development, which could lead to inclusive, vital and livable future scenarios.

Acknowledgement The work of this chapter is part of the research program “New New Towns” led by the International New Town Institute. This research was conducted by the teachers and master’s students from the Complex Cities graduation studio of the Urbanism Department of the Delft University of Technology (TU Delft).

References Du, Huimin, and Si-ming Li. 2010. “Migrants, Urban Villages, and Community Sentiments: A Case of Guangzhou, China.” Asian Geographer 27: 93-108. Gifford, Robert. 1997. Environmental Psychology. Boston: Allyn and Bacon

Toward Inclusive, Vital and Livable Cit y Scenarios

63

Guo, Fei, and Zhanxin Zhang. 2006. “Transforming Urban Villages: Social Stratification in Migrant Communities in China.” In Proceedings of the ACESA 2006 International Conference. Melbourne: Victoria University, 1-22. Hao, Pu. 2012. “Spatial Evolution of Urban Villages in Shenzhen.” PhD diss., Utrecht University. Jacobs, Jane. 1961. The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York: Vintage. Lefebvre, Henri. 1991. The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell. Li, Ling Hin, Jie Lin, Xin Li, and Fan Wu. 2014. “Redevelopment of Urban Villages in China – A Step towards an Effective Urban Policy? A Case Study of Liede Village in Guangzhou. Habitat International 43: 299-308. Liu, Yuting, Shenjing He, Fulong Wu, and Chris Webster. 2010. “Urban Villages under China’s Rapid Urbanization: Unregulated Assets and Transitional Neighbourhoods.” Habitat International 34(2): 135-144. Maslow, Abraham H. 1970. Motivation and Personality. New York: Harper and Row. Sato, Hiroshi. 2006. “Housing Inequality and Housing Poverty in Urban China in the Late 1990s.” China Economic Review 17(1): 37-50. Saunders, Doug. 2010. Arrival City: The Final Migration and Our Next World. Toronto: Knopf Canada. Shenzhen Planning Bureau. 2007. “Shenzhen Comprehensive Plan 2007-2020.” UN. 1992. Report of the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (Rio de Janeiro, 3-14 June 1992). New York: United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs. UPLRC. 2012. “Draft Planning Proposal for Sungang-qingshuihe Urban Development Unit.” Urban Planning and Land Resources Commission (UPLRC) of Shenzhen Municipality and Luohu District Government. In Chinese. Van Dorst, Machiel. 2010. “Sustainable Liveability: Privacy Zoning as a Physical Condition for Social Sustainability.” In Environment, Health, and Sustainable Development, ed. M.K. Tolba, A. Abdel-Hadi, and S. Soliman. Cambridge: Hogrefe and Huber, 111-126. Victorian Competition and Efficiency Commission. 2008. A State of Liveability: An Inquiry into Enhancing Victoria’s Liveability, October. World Bank (n.d.) “Inclusive Cities.” World Bank website. https://www.worldbank. org/en/topic/inclusive-cities. Accessed on 24 March 2019. Yan, Xiaopei, Lihua Wei, and Ruibo Zhou. 2004. “Research on the Coordination between Urban and Rural Area in the Rapid Urbanization with the Redevelopment of Guangzhou Village-amid-the-city as a Case.” City Planning Review 3: 30-38. In Chinese. Yan, Yulin, and Yuan Liu. 2013. “Research on the Land Ownership Issue of Urban Village Renovation in the Process of Urbanization.” Social Sciences in Guangdong 4: 21-26.

64 Lei Qu

Zhang, Fanying. 2013. “On-Site’ Evolutionary Village: Rescripting the Transformation Mode of Urban Villages, Shenzhen, China.” MA thesis. Delft: Delft University of Technology. Zhang, Li, Xiaobin Zhao, and J.P. Tian. (2003). “Self-help in Housing and Chengzhongcun in China’s Urbanization.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 27(4): 912-937. Zhou, Jing. 2012. “Urban Vitality in Dutch and Chinese New Towns: A Comparative Study between Almere and Tongzhou.” PhD diss., Delft University of Technology.

Biography Dr. Lei Qu is an Assistant Professor at TU Delft (The Netherlands), in the Department of Urbanism, Faculty of Architecture and the Built Environment. She obtained her PhD in urban planning and design from Tsinghua University (China).

4

Cultural Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regeneration From Liulichang Cultural Street to Qianmen Street and Yangmeizhu Oblique Street Wan Liu

Abstract This chapter reviews the process of urban regeneration in Beijing and presents three cases reflecting the old city’s cultural strategy in different development phases. These cases illustrate the most representative dilemmas in current Chinese urban regeneration. At which point do government and the market achieve balance? Could cultural strategies and economic goals benefit from each other? How to combine the objects of physical space revival and protection of social ecology? How to transform short-term stimulus into a long-term mechanism? These challenges are not unique to China, but universal in other Asian cities. In the new round of urban regeneration, it is important to seek a self-updating mechanism that could maintain social justice, cultural continuity, and economic sustainability. Keywords: Beijing, urban regeneration, culture strategy, historic preservation, development pattern

Introduction In the tide of global urbanization, Asia has become the region with the most rapid urban population growth and largest number of big cities in the world. In the cities of Asia, rapid urbanization and population growth has brought many ancient cities new vitality, but at the same time presents a great challenge to the original physical environment and historical culture

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch04

66 Wan Liu

of these cities. Accompanied by problems arising from economic growth and deep-level urbanization, the upgrading of existing urban space instead of large-scale expansion is playing an increasingly important role. Meanwhile, the significant roles of culture and the arts in urban development have begun to emerge and the way to solve old cities’ economic problems has been integrated with culture and the arts. Culture-led urban regeneration is gradually becoming a new pattern in the regeneration of old city centers in order to improve the urban setting, promote a new urban economy, and help combat economic recession in older cities. In China, especially in the historic and cultural cities, cultural industries are always accompanied by heritage conservation. Whether it is a historical area of cultural value or the modern industrial heritage left in the process of industrial transformation, as reactivated and reused by the emerging cultural creative industry, it is an important means to prevent recession. Cities like Beijing have experienced dramatic spatial changes during the rapid development that has happened since the 1980s. The gradual accumulation of wealth and the long-term pent-up development demand blowout, whereas the corresponding urban management system and planning control measures have not yet been shaped. In this case, urban regeneration practices in historic and cultural environments have been faltering in the gradual forward movement. In this process, the integration of old city protection and regeneration with the culture industry is particularly evident. To become a city famous for culture is one of the targets of Beijing’s development goals set by the master plan. At a time when every city is eager to develop a creative industry, as a cultural capital, Beijing’s cultural strategy is different from other creative cities, for Beijing’s creativity is largely based on the heritage of traditional cultural genes. On the one hand, the ruined traditional historical locations should be given new life; on the other hand, the new aims of the urban cultural strategy need spatial carriers that offer appropriate locations as well as cultural symbolism. In Beijing, like in other places all over the world, traditional living spaces have gradually deteriorated under new development. Some of the most important locations were the first to be renewed even if their problems were not the most urgent ones, since the government vowed to change the urban appearance, establish a benchmark for the urban image, and promote the development of the surrounding areas. And in seeking greater profits, the developers were willing to pursue the most renowned locations. Thus, over the past 30 years, the transformation of Beijing’s cultural renaissance strategy was represented in the most prestigious historical locations. This chapter reviews the transformation of this cultural strategy in the course of Beijing’s urban regeneration and discusses the problems faced

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

67

in the promotion strategy of the cultural industry. Three cases in adjacent locations are selected, namely Liulichang Cultural Street, Dashilan in Qianmen Street, and Yangmeizhu Oblique Street. Their regenerations in different stages are described to reflect the historical development phases of Beijing’s old city regeneration and its urban cultural renaissance as well as the attitudes toward urban regeneration, which not only aid the rethinking of the old city cultural strategy by the city government, but also highlight the most representative dilemmas in current Chinese urban regeneration. So far these contradictions have still failed to find satisfactory resolutions. Through the three typical regeneration cases that reflect the conflicts confronted in different periods of development, the following issues are addressed. The planned economy mode of cultural construction lacks vitality because of its focus on the market. Because it is subject to the interests of developers, a market-led cultural renaissance moves forward at the expense of indigenous people and at the cost of cultural rupture by deviating from the path of history and cultural continuity. In contrast, participatory planning takes people into consideration, addresses the needs of the community, and involves the residents. However, without an external capital infusion the way to sustain the prosperity in the future would still need to be explored. In these examples we can observe and explore the challenges to be encountered in the new round of urban regeneration taking place in Beijing and in other Asian cities. How to deal with this contradiction in development? There is still a long path in front of many Asian cities seeking a self-updating mechanism that could maintain social justice, culture continuity, and economic sustainability.

Beijing’s urban regeneration and cultural strategy The development phases of Beijing’s urban regeneration and cultural strategy In 1911 China’s feudal dynasty of several thousand years came to an end. Along with the functional development of modern cities and the introduction of advanced technologies, basic elements of the city in modern times began to emerge. The pattern of Beijing’s old feudal capital could not adapt to the new social transformation and functional requirements and the contradiction between old city conservation and new development gradually increased. In these constant wars and political struggles, Beijing’s development lacked a continuous development strategy, and the old city began to decay. Following

68 Wan Liu

the foundation of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in 1949 and through various political movements and the vagaries of economic policies, the conservation and urban regeneration of Beijing’s old city went through several significant historical phases. This cultural phenomenon reflected the development of the government’s conception of urban regeneration. In the 1950s, the professionals debated over whether the administrative center of the central government should be located in the old city, which was the first contradiction between conservation and renewal. From the mid-1960s to the mid-1970s, the cultural value of the old city was denied and criticism of traditional culture led to irreparable damage carried out in urban construction. In the 1980s, cultural values were rerecognized and cultural undertakings were emphasized to drive the old city’s development. From the 1990s to the early 2000s, large-scale urban regeneration led to more damage on the ground even while a cultural industry was emerging. Since 2004, cultural industries have been developed as a result of great efforts. The 1950s: Disputes over the value of Beijing’s old city After the foundation of the PRC in 1949, the professionals debated about whether or not the administrative heart of the central government should be located in Beijing’s old city, which was the first contradiction between conservation and renewal. The result was that the famous scheme put forward by Liang Sicheng and Chen Zhanxiang, in which they advocated moving the nation’s administrative center to the west, was not approved. Those who supported protecting the cultural values of Beijing’s old city were in the minority. Since the early 1950s, Beijing had drawn up or revised master plans for development several times. Plans were formed in 1954, 1957, and 1958 embracing the fundamental principle that the old city should be renewed. During this period, the focus of urban renewal was on demolishing the old and building anew. This became the guideline for urban planning and construction and defined Beijing’s development around establishing an administrative center based in the old city. This plan had lurking within it the troublesome structural contradiction between the conservation and the development of the old city. While plans for urban development were being drawn up, concern for culture fell by the wayside. From the beginning of Liberation to the Reform and Opening-up period, industrialization was emphasized and the nation’s urban economy was dominated by secondary industry; the construction of culture lagged behind. The best that happened was that a small number of cultural facilities were allocated in accordance with the planning model in the Soviet era without an overall cultural strategy.

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

69

The mid-1960s to the mid-1970s: Denying the cultural value of the old city The period of the 1960s and 1970s was the most turbulent since the foundation of the PRC. The Great Leap Forward movement began in 1958. A revolution in design was advocated in 1964. Then the Cultural Revolution began in 1966 and the implementation of the urban master plan was suspended in 1967. The Beijing Urban Planning Administration was closed down in 1968, a move which highlighted the prevalence of irrational factors in the urban planning process. During this period, the criticism of traditional culture led to irreparable damage being done by urban construction. Two key events had a tremendous impact on the pattern and appearance of Beijing’s old city and resulted in a permanent sense of regret in future generations. One was the demolishing of the city wall and most of the city gates; the other was to suspend urban planning, so that construction programs were implemented randomly and the old city experienced disorderly bouts of construction. Fortunately, however, due to the stagnation of social, economic, and cultural developments, the total scale of construction during this period was relatively small. The 1980s: Rerecognizing the cultural value of the old city and driving the old city’s development by cultural undertakings Following China’s Reform and Opening-up period, experts began to discuss the conservation of the old city once again, rediscovering the historical and cultural value of Beijing’s old city, which, this time, was reflected in the planning formation. In 1982, the State Council released its first list of 24 “famous historical and cultural cities,” and Beijing topped the list. In the following year, Beijing’s Master Plan was revised to include the concept of its being a “famous historical and cultural city” for the first time, and heritage protection and urban renewal were identified as important considerations. Three decades of stagnation of urban construction after the foundation of the PRC had caused a tremendous gap and the most urgent issue was to improve the living conditions of the city’s residents. For this purpose, the renovation of dilapidated houses was started and approaches emerged to combine urban renewal and conservation. Along with the deepening recognition of the value of the old city’s relics and culture, the construction of cultural undertakings was further strengthened, which emphasized public welfare during this period. The government began to stress the development of cultural undertakings and became a builder and investor in the cultural field.

70 Wan Liu

The 1990s to the early 2000s: Urban regeneration causes damage and the emergence of a cultural industry After the 1990s, the awareness of the value of the old city was further deepened and developed so that it was no longer seen as an isolated physical environmental development project but a place of overall value to the entire city. In 1990, the f irst batch of 25 “historical and cultural protection zones” was identified (the list was made in 1990, the specific scope was settled in 1999, and planning for all the zones was completed in 2002), which set up connections between the practice of single relic protection and urban conservation. For the first time, the Beijing Master Plan, which was revised in 1993, incorporated the protection of the famous historical and cultural city as an important factor, which fully affirmed the historical and cultural value of the old city. Nevertheless, during this period, more stress was placed on construction concerns than on conservation plans. Due to the continuous economic growth of the area, construction in the old city was busy and a large number of real estate development projects in the name of urban regeneration had an irreversible impact on its spatial pattern. A large number of hutongs and compounds were demolished, faster and far more extensively than had been done in past decades. In the context of a rapid economic development, a cultural industry was acknowledged as an emerging tertiary industrial sector and developed with cultural undertakings. From the early 1990s, reforms and innovation in the cultural field were embraced and renovation was accepted as a part of the development of the cultural industry. Local governments pursued the implementation of cultural economic policies, promoted the cultural industry’s prosperity and development as an important cultural development strategy, and formulated planning and corresponding policies. In 1991, the State Council used the concept of the “economic policy on culture” in the approval to the Ministry of Culture. Since 1995, Beijing was the first to publicize the economic policy on culture and established “special funds for cultural development” and “cultural undertaking construction fees.” In 1996, Beijing’s Municipal Party Committee and the city government issued a strategic policy entitled “Several Opinions on Accelerating Beijing’s Cultural Development” to guide urban cultural development, in which the development of the cultural industry was listed on the government’s agenda for the f irst time nationwide. It opened a gate for promoting cultural undertakings and cultural industrial development by market mechanisms.

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

71

Since 2004: Rethinking, cautious promotion, and the efforts to develop a cultural industry The revision of Beijing’s Urban Master Plan in 2004 included the protection of “famous historical and cultural cities” as one of its four key parts. The protection of the old city was expanded from the concept of the “historical and cultural protection zone” to include the protection of the overall pattern of the old city. Meanwhile, cultural development was raised to an important position, and it was proposed to “optimize the development environment for the cultural industry to enhance the functions of cultural centers.” The Master Plan of 2004 clearly aimed to “exert great efforts to develop the cultural and creative industry” for the first time. The “Beijing Municipal Cultural Industrial Development Plan (2004-2008)” was issued and in the “Outlined Eleventh Five-Year Plan” released at the beginning of 2006, the promotion of a cultural and creative industry was listed as the focus of future works. In the same year, “Several Policies on Promoting Cultural and Creative Industry Development by the Beijing Municipal Government” and other polices were launched along with a series of specific measures: increase fiscal input; encourage various types of capital to invest in the cultural industry; learn from the experience of the technology industry and stress the development of a cultural industry park; strengthen support services by creating a service-oriented and inclusive environment to promote the cultural industry; promote reform of the system to develop cultural enterprises; and foster a cultural market. Thus, Beijing began to vigorously drive the integration of the overall conservation of the old city and its regeneration, and put an emphasis on supporting cultural strategies to support the cultural and creative industry. At the end of 2006, the first batch of ten “Beijing Municipal cultural and creative industrial clusters” was issued, and the following four batches of 30 clusters were set up by 2011. In the old city, the cultural industry was mainly cultural consumption-based sectors, namely the arts, the art trade, and the cultural tourism industry. This includes cases such as the Liulichang Historical and Cultural Creative Industry Park and the Qianmen Traditional Cultural Industry Cluster.

Problems developing the cultural industry in Beijing’s old city The cultural industry is keen on the historical and cultural environment of the old city, especially the old city’s historical and cultural protection zones that have inherent cultural advantages/superiority. However, under

72 Wan Liu

the existing conditions of the old city, there are a lot of practical problems hampering the development of cultural industries there, especially the long-term accumulated issues related to construction carried out in the old city. These problems cannot be ignored if a favorable environment for the development and achievement of a long-term urban cultural strategy is to be created. (1) The old city was run-down, densely populated, with mixed property rights and lifeless neighborhoods Due to lack of integrated control and guidance, overpopulation, ambiguous property rights and responsibilities, the decaying physical environment was the most prominent problem in the protection zones. According to the Beijing Statistics Bureau, the population in the old city was 2,274,000 in 2009, and there were 2,083,000 residents, with a population density of 225.46 per hectare, which was the highest in the city and as high as 21.8 times the average level of 10.33 per hectare. Some locations had higher population densities and most protection zones were already extremely overcrowded. Compared with the expanding population, residential land and housing per capita decreased year by year in the historical and cultural protection zones, with only 10.5 m2 per capita, while this figure in the old city was 16.4 m 2 . This was much lower than the average level in Beijing. At the same time, buildings inside the old city were severely dilapidated. Since the property system and housing policy changed several times after the Liberation, how rights and responsibilities were divided and shared among the government, administrative units, and individuals was unclear and, as a result, no one was willing to carry out repairs to houses, which meant even basic maintenance could not be guaranteed. The better the historical appearance, the worse the housing qualities were. A decaying environment, in turn, led to the separation of residents and houses, rental households replaced the original residents, and social structures changed to reduce the vitality of the neighborhoods. Meanwhile, mixed property rights also created huge obstacles to renewal and regeneration. (2) Under the current spatial conditions, transportation and infrastructure in the protection zones are severely overloaded The municipal infrastructure in the protection zones were already antiquated. Industrial growth and corresponding population expansion placed greater demands on the infrastructure. Long-standing underinvestment

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

73

in road and transportation networks, electricity capacity, water supply and drainage, public health, and other aspects were clearly apparent. As more and more high-ranking cultural industries located into historical and cultural protection zones the new residents required modernized facilities and infrastructure to support their desired lifestyles. Faced with such requirements, the aging and decaying elements of the existing municipal infrastructure were unable to meet the functional demands, which restricted development and became a hidden risk. (3) Development pattern, format, and level of existing cultural industry were in convergence Within the existing old city, some relatively stable commercial streets, cultural creative zones, and tourism markets were formed. However, the operational scope of the cultural creative industry was narrow and convergent in its development. The creativity of those expanding the traditional cultural industry was insufficient, focusing on a single type of creative industry and lacking distinctive characteristics. As a result, the quality of the cultural product developed was unsatisfactory. Besides, although the commercial value of the protection process of the historical and cultural resources gained widespread attention, industrial guidance or incentives were inadequate, especially in relation to the cultural tourism industry, which was less connected to the employment of residents in the old city. Many residents relied only on passive incomes earned by renting out their houses during subsequent rounds of industrial upgrading, which meant that the development of a cultural industry was not relevant to the lives of the common people living within the protection zones.

Three cases To illustrate the developments described in this chapter three cases of projects carried out in adjacent locations in different time periods have been chosen. The first is the reconstruction of Liulichang Cultural Street in the 1980s, which reflected the cultural strategy at the beginning of Reform and Opening-up Policy, which was a period focused on cultural undertakings rather than on developing a cultural industry. Its development goals and construction were directly handled by the government. This top-down project embodied a pattern typical of the planned economy era. The second case is the renewal of Qianmen Street in the early 2000s. Despite a timetable

74 Wan Liu Figure 4.1 (A) The old city in Beijing region (B) location of the three cases in the old city of Beijing

Source: Wan Liu

lagging slightly behind, it inherited the “cultural economic policy” from the early stage when the cultural industry was promoted before the 2000s. It was clearly evident that the major issues with this example were simple repetition and a lack of the project’s own distinctive character. The third case is the renovation of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street in 2013, which represented the experience and lessons learned in the previous stage, and was a brand-new exploration of how to solve the problems facing this kind of development. At the same time, this project encountered difficulties of its own. The reconstruction of Liulichang Cultural Street: Cultural renaissance led by the government (1) Introduction Liulichang Cultural Street is located outside Hepingmen (Gate of Peace) in Beijing, with a total length of about 800 meters. During the Ming Dynasty, scholars and candidates who went to Beijing for the imperial examination gathered in Liulichang Street, which later became a book market. In the Qing Dynasty, Liulichang was gradually converted into a leading market of antiques and ancient books. A lot of stores selling books, stationery, antiques, calligraphy works, and paintings were established here. Its historical functions and vitality were maintained until the 1960s. However, due to the disruptions caused by several social movements and the Cultural Revolution,

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

75

Figure 4.2 The area of Liulichang Cultural Street

Photograph by Wan Liu

the operation of Liulichang Street withered and declined, housing was allowed to become rundown, and the surrounding environment deteriorated. In 1978, under the influence of the Reform and Opening-up Policy, the Ministry of Culture and Beijing’s municipal government decided to reconstruct this historical and cultural place so that it could lead the revitalization of Beijing’s cultural activities. In October 1980, the redevelopment project was started and the first phase was finished in October 1984. Ming and Qing Dynasty-style buildings were put up, which covered the street for 500 meters, with the investment of 18 million RMB. According to the plan, 60 state-run, collectively-owned, or privately-owned stores were opened one by one. A large number of old stores selling antiques or paintings were restored to realize the bustling scene in the past that met people’s expectations. (2) The debate over the construction of the physical environment Reconstruction of Liulichang was an early-stage example typical for developing the cultural industry, that is, large-scale rebuilding of an antique street. Debates on whether to rebuild or renovate this street was carried out long before the project was begun. Some thought it should be rebuilt the same as before in order to preserve the traditional artistic appearance of the ancient cultural street, while others argued that conservation was less important than improvement and renovation that increased the street’s functionality. The result was that most decision makers agreed with the latter opinion, that is, they thought that the ancient buildings in Liulichang had no important heritage value, so it was unnecessary to rebuild them exactly as before. After the reconstruction of Liulichang Cultural Street, architects discussed its architectural forms extensively, which triggered a debate on the value of embracing “authenticity” in the pursuit of historical and cultural conservation. Authenticity continues to be an important topic of discussion in academic circles to this day. Some scholars argue that in China, the

76 Wan Liu Figure 4.3 Homogeneous business lack of vitality, East Liulichang Street, 2012

Photograph by Wan Liu

Figure 4.4 The antique-style façade, East Liulichang Street, 2014

Photograph by Wan Liu

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

77

biggest problem in the process of historical and cultural conservation is that the approach has turned from “constructive destruction,” where historic quarters were demolished under large-scale urban construction, to “protective destruction,” where the emphasis has become to apply conservation technology to the mass production of a fake architectural antiquity (Zhang 2011). At that time, the first focus of the debate was that in the past the architectural scale and volume of the shops were relatively small, and their styles and colors were simple but elegant, full of cultural richness. However, the restored shops were too luxuriant and elaborate, with bright colors, so that the entire effect was that the graceful atmosphere of the original street was lost. Secondly, the original heritage of the street was ignored or even demolished and was replaced with a renovated “fake heritage.” Thirdly, the whole street was rebuilt too quickly and featured a single style and content. Even as those in charge of the reconstruction followed the traditional appearance of the original street, the functional problems became prominent later. From a historical perspective, Liulichang Street had mainly served the needs of intellectuals, so it was not only a commercial street but also a gathering place for scholars and could be thought of as a salon or literary club. The bookstore owners were usually knowledgeable and could help experts to identify rare and ancient books when they came into their premises. In some shops books were not for sale but were for lending. Therefore, in the absence of Western-style libraries or museums in Beijing, Liulichang was actually an important space of intellectual exchange and communication for the scholars of the time, which means it played a very important role in the social and intellectual history of Beijing. However, the reconstruction of Liulichang focused only on the physical environment rather than on its street and buildings as spaces for people/the human factors, ignoring its functions as a public space as well as a location for cultural exchange. It became a commercial street mainly selling expensive traditional cultural items to foreign tourists. (3) The problem of the system reflected in its operation After rapid construction supported by huge investment, the brand-new Liulichang Cultural Street was not a success – it did not attract tourists. This problem was rooted in the system that created it. First of all, regarding business guidance, the business scope of the project was determined by the higher levels of cultural authorities who did not listen to the views of the merchants. The authorities argued that there had been a huge investment in reconstruction to build a high-quality attraction of outstanding traditional features to serve foreign guests. Therefore, the

78 Wan Liu

business activities must be focused on “Chinese traditional culture” and the services should give priority to foreigners before domestic customers. Under such a scheme, business beyond those aimed at foreign tourists was restricted, the drawbacks of which were quickly revealed. First, the narrow business scope meant that there was a monotonous commodity range. Since very few commodities met the criteria of falling under both “Chinese ancient culture” and the national antique management policy, the many stores that were constrained by these criteria had to sell similar products. Customers complained that visiting one shop was like visiting all the shops on the street. Second, under such a business concept, the original folk traditions were replaced by elite traditions. All the sellers on the street were selling high-priced calligraphy works, paintings, f ine porcelain and antiques, stationery, and ivory and jade, products which were not affordable for the vast majority of domestic tourists, while the number of foreign guests to be served was low, leading to the depressed situation of the cultural street. According to the statistics, only 200,000 foreign tourists visited Liulichang in 1987. The premier business concept pushed away the potentially large number of domestic customers who would have favored more affordable Chinese calligraphy works and paintings. Secondly, multimanagement systems were rife with mutual constraints. Among the stores in Liulichang Cultural Street, some were run by central governmental divisions, some were run by the Beijing municipal government, and some were run by the street’s management committee. This situation was common at that time in Beijing. State-owned stores also had levels of administration. Thus, the management committee of the cultural street was at the same level as some central government divisions. And the branch units were not within the management scope in Beijing. So lines of management authority were muddled and difficult to coordinate, often resulting in situations where confusion rather than clarity operated. Thirdly, the ownerships of the stores were simple and lacked a competitive mechanism. At that time, among 60 stores, 52 stores were state-owned or collective corporate. Three state-owned cultural divisions, namely the Antique Store, the China Bookstore and the Rongbaozhai Art Gallery, operated over 30 stores that covered almost half of the street. Some stores were branches of the large state-owned shopping malls, which implemented a “big pot system” so that the income of the staff had no relation with their responsibilities in the operation. As a result, many of the staff members lacked enthusiasm for the project and its old-fashioned and unsophisticated approach to business. For example, shops on the street did not decorate their windows and there were no advertising boards or signs.

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

79

A creative city should have the following elements, at least: cultural space, established cultural image, sophisticated cultural clusters, and existing historical and cultural memories, etc. (Landry et al. 1996). To a great extent, Liulichang Cultural Street had the conditions of a creative city, coupled with its own superior spatial environment, location, and high-quality potential resources. But the actual development had a huge gap. Although the buildings were carefully designed to follow the ancient style, the government managed all the issues from the initial demolition to setting up and operating the businesses, ignoring public interests, which buried troubles for the future of the development. In short, at the beginning of China’s Reform and Opening-up Policy, the renewal and development patterns of Liulichang Cultural Street reflected approaches and thinking typically found in a planned economy. The government-led, top-down pattern neglected the function of the market, thus greatly undermining the vitality of that district.

The renewal of Qianmen Street: Economic development on the cultural platform (1) Introduction Qianmen Street is located on the central axis of Beijing outside the Gate of Zhengyang. During the Ming and Qing Dynasties, both sides of Qianmen Street served as the cargo-distribution center of the Grand Canal. In the early years of the Republic of China, Beijing became an important transportation hub after the Beijing-Shenyang and Beijing-Hankou rail lines were built. As the capital of the Republic of China from 1921 to 1928, Beijing hosted a large number of affluent consumers and the commercial development of Qianmen Street reached its peak. During the 50 years after the capital relocated south to Nanjing in 1928, the layout of Qianmen Street had not changed much, but the role of the commercial center had declined to one that traded primarily in cheap commodities. Prior to the renewal, the social problems of Qianmen district were serious. The “Survey on the Fringes of Downtown Beijing,” released by the Beijing Academy of Social Sciences, pointed out that in Qianmen’s Dashilan District, one of the oldest and most run-down districts in the city, the daily consumption per capita was only 8 RMB and some families of three persons lived in rooms measuring less than 5 m2 . The population density reached 43, 800 per square kilometer. Deprivation was serious and the infrastructure and housing stock were old and deteriorating.

80 Wan Liu Figure 4.5 The area of Qianmen Street

Photograph by Wan Liu

After winning the right to host the 2008 Olympic Games, Beijing officially launched a housing renovation and landscape restoration project at the beginning of 2003, aiming to improve the cultural layout of the old city and develop a cultural tourist industry. The whole project covered an area of 22, 400 m2, with a planned floor area of 40, 200 m2. In the past, there was a proposal to convert Qianmen Street into an 80-meter-wide street. But due to the respect to the historical and cultural values of Beijing City, the proposal was abandoned and the original width was more or less maintained. On both sides of Qianmen Street, especially the east side, a large number of buildings were rebuilt and a lot of underground space was added. Using previous survey and records of the street, it was possible to copy the original style of the street façade. The day before the opening of the Beijing Olympic Games, a grand opening ceremony was held on Qianmen Street and twelve time-honored brands opened their stores on the same day. (2) Issues of space and population The renewal of Qianmen Street was another national project after the regeneration of Liulichang Cultural Street in Beijing. After six years of operation, however, the many problems with Qianmen Street began to be

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

Figure 4.6 Large scale construction at one time, Qianmen Street, 2008

Photograph by Wan Liu

Figure 4.7 High quality but empty street, Qianmen Street, 2013

Photograph by Wan Liu

81

82 Wan Liu

pointed out by tourists, store owners, and residents, as well as relic protection experts. There were three main problems. Firstly, the entire Qianmen District was one of the best preserved areas of traditional appearance, featuring relics and the intangible cultural heritage of old Beijing. It blended the architectural culture, merchant culture, folk culture, club culture, and opera culture of old Beijing. Despite this, as Qianmen Street was converted into a pedestrian commercial street, both sides of which were constructed anew, which resulted in dozens of hutongs disappearing or changing their original layouts, and as a result, the historical pattern of the original streets and lanes was seriously damaged. The criticism was that even though Qianmen Street was restored to its original appearance, it was at the expense of sacrificing the total appearance of surrounding areas. Secondly, the original cultural value of Qianmen Street was lost along with the demolition of its old buildings and the relocation of its residents. The level of gentrification was high. Although the initial plan was conceived to enhance the quality of cultural tourism in the entire Qianmen District, due to large-scale construction, despite the huge investment by government, the investment of real estate developers was needed to complete the project. Their desire for profits forced a large number of residents living on both sides of Qianmen Street to move out so that the old courtyards could be transformed into luxurious compounds. Thirdly, the traditional commercial system in the area suffered severe damage. The renovation of street-front commercial buildings caused the rents to climb much higher than in the past, so that many of the original merchants, especially the time-honored brands, could not afford the cost and had to choose another site or rely on its other branches to level off their persistent losses. Six years after its opening, Qianmen Street had many closed or empty shops. Statistical data from 2013 shows that several brands left and the news media reported the vacancy rate had reached nearly 40%. (3) Business strategy and value proposition The dilemma the developers of Qianmen Street encountered is not an isolated case, but is typical of the type of problems faced by a many of those in the Chinese cultural industry and the creative sector today. Normally, the local government sets up an enterprise for operation and management and is responsible for developing and implementing a marketing strategy, which was rooted in the local historical and cultural resources and often was ambitious to make huge economic returns. Qianmen Street is a typical case. Even though it started out by focusing attention on exploring the historical and cultural values of that district, the size and intensity of the project – it

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

83

developed into a large-scale and one-time regeneration project – resulted in tremendous financial pressures, which led to a gradual deviation from the original intention of historical and cultural conservation. The formation and evolution of a district with high historical value and traditional features is deeply rooted in the local community. However, after regeneration, this connection is often broken up and the development is pinned to a certain point in time. History and culture are taken to be a kind of adornment, thus losing the historical value and features of the area. In Beijing, a series of urban regeneration projects, including the successful cases of Nanluogu Lane and Yandai Byway, were all transformed from areas providing local services to catering to tourists without exception. Commercial tourism services changed the service targets, and the public purpose of the area regarding its one-time residents was converted into providing services to tourists. To a large extent, Qianmen Street retained the original streetscape, but its function was changed to mainly serving tourist needs, which was indeed a common problem. The business model of overall development and unified merchandising made Qianmen Street more like a big shopping mall. Large-scale development was no longer compatible with providing services for common people, reflecting the cultural orientation and interests of the government and the developers. In terms of business, the biggest problem presented by Qianmen Street was the lack of clarity regarding its proposition and the neglect of the area’s unique characteristics in carrying out the development. Under the umbrella of Beijing’s “global city” approach to construction, the marketing of Qianmen Street experienced four stages: First, the goal of presenting a “cluster of world-renowned brands” was ended since several major brands broke the agreement. Second, after introducing a number of time-honored brands, Qianmen Street was opened smoothly, but two years later, the first batch of brands disappeared as the leases expired. The main reason was that they could no longer afford to be tenants. The revised business plan set up a fund dedicated to the development of time-honored brands with an annual investment of 10 million yuan. At the same time, the average rent was reduced by half from 60 yuan per m2 at the beginning. Third, a large number of clothing brands were introduced in 2010 to increase the area’s revenue, but after only a year or two, these brands were trapped into high inventory and low net profit. Many of them closed their stores to prevent further losses. Finally, fourth, the business model was revised again, giving priority to the experience of brand culture and tourist culture instead of taking a position on the selling of clothing. However, this change was not smooth and has not been implemented yet, resulting in an area populated by

84 Wan Liu

mixed types of businesses, low-quality products, and an overall atmosphere similar to that of other commercial districts. From this complicated process, we can see that although it was not long after the opening of the street, the business model was revised several times and failed to find clear business characteristics. The superficial reasons for this include the excessively high rents, the lack of clarity regarding the overall proposition presented by the street, and the system managing it. Essentially, the development and operation of Qianmen Street was carried out by the developers under the guidance of the government sector, who were the main implementers and property owners. They constructed, invested in, and treated Qianmen Street as a shopping mall. “Their monopoly was not broke up, so the business could not develop well,” Zhang Jie said. Meanwhile, despite the fact that the business entities of these cultural sites were enterprises, the important value of these historical and cultural blocks was recognized by the governmental decision makers. After the large-scale renovation, they hoped that the blocks would quickly reach a level of expected prosperity. The periods between the revisions of the business model became increasingly shorter, reflecting the desperation and short-sightedness of the decision makers and also their insufficient respect for the rules of urban development when renovating these cultural sites. Another fiercely debated problem was whether the renovation of Qianmen Street respected and effectively extended the traditional lifestyles of the residents. Compared with the luxurious architectural forms of Liulichang’s renovation 20 years earlier, Qianmen Street was closer in its attempt to retain the original style of the area. However, a review of the pattern of renovation shows that the same problem was repeated. Although more than 20 years has passed and the discussions of professionals on small-scale incremental developments continued for a longer time, the renovation of Qianmen Street was still a one-time “street plan” made by a single developer. Its scale seemed to reach the best standard of urban design, but the method of designing and carrying out the project did not keep to the general rules of urban design, especially regarding the lack of public participation in the process. In the renovation of Qianmen Street the developers opted to follow the older method of demolition and reconstruction, which resulted in a repeat of the kinds of problems faced by previous projects. In terms of conservation, as a renovation project attempts to maintain an area’s traditional features, is it not possible to retain the area’s authentic social and cultural life as well? Is this the way that all urban regeneration projects must go?

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

85

Figure 4.8 The area of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street

Photograph by Wan Liu

The regeneration of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street: The culture-led and community-revitalized pattern (1) Introduction In contrast to the Qianmen Street project, the approach to developing Yangmeizhu Oblique Street, which is a few hundred meters away, was more careful. The street is 496 meters long from east to west and is located in the southwest, outside the Gate of Qianmen, and connected to Dashilan and Liulichang. It has a history of more than 600 years, was once the home of the Beijing Publishing House, and was filled with bookstores, clubs, residences of celebrities, consortia of old-style Chinese private banks, as well as the famous Qingyun Pavilion, which was ranked first of Beijing’s four commercial and entertainment venues in the late Qing Dynasty and early Republic of China. Yangmeizhu Oblique Street was an area of cultural richness, but after 1949, some bookstores and entertainment venues were closed down and a number of historical sites were gradually converted into big compounds, and their architectural patterns were totally changed beyond recognition. Those that were retained suffered from dilapidation due to many years of neglect.

86 Wan Liu Figure 4.9 Small-scale and micro-circular renovation in Hutong renewal, Yangmeizhu Oblique Street, 2018

Photograph by Wan Liu

Figure 4.10 Resuming the Vigorous People’s Life, Yangmeizhu Oblique Street, 2018

Photograph by Wan Liu

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

87

Figure 4.11 The “Unremarkable” Streetscape of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street after renovation, 2018

Photograph by Wan Liu

(2) Renovation Yangmeizhu Oblique Street was not as eye-catching as its neighbors, Liulichang Street and Qianmen Streets, but its development demonstrates a new pattern for conservation and rehabilitation of historical and cultural urban areas. The renovation of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street was the f irst program of the overall regeneration of the Dashilan District, which was an effort to establish a direct connection between Qianmen Street and Liulichang Street. The f irst stage was launched in 2011 when a design for the regeneration of Dashilan was sought. Talented designers and creative agencies in China and abroad were invited to visit the area. The goal to come up with an approach in this public way allowed residents consciously to take part in the district regeneration plan, so that they could understand and support its goals. In July 2012, the renovation plan was f inalized by the experts and began to be implemented. On 5 January 2013, for example, the pavement of the entire street was completely upgraded. In July 2013, the government launched the resident relocation plan.

88 Wan Liu

The renovation scope of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street was 8.8 km 2 . The pedestrianized street connected Dashilan and Liulichang, forming a 1.5 km long area of continuous cultural activity in the most central area of Beijing’s old city. Some old bookstores and residences of celebrities were restored, and facilities designed to support commercial tourism, such as cafes, bars, restaurants, small hotels and creative shops, were established. This was accompanied by a traffic organization plan. This was the preliminary shape of the renovated Yangmeizhu Oblique Street. As a part of the Dashilan historical and cultural conservation zone, the renovation of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street sought to improve local people’s livelihood and landscape, giving priority to infrastructure rehabilitation and housing renovation instead of massive demolition and reconstruction. The original landscape and texture of the hutong was to remain unchanged, and a large number of residents were to be unaffected. This was the biggest difference compared to the two cases of renovation discussed above, which was a significant improvement in the treatment of historical and cultural conservation zones. The three major differences are summarized below. Firstly, the demolition and relocation pattern was changed. The residents were allowed to relocate voluntarily; those who stayed could retain their original lifestyle. Through relatively sufficient public participation at the early stage – 529 households of the 1700 households chose to move out – the remainder accounted for nearly 70% of the households. The result changed the longstanding problem of how to deal with existing residents in an urban regeneration project who wanted to hold on to their original lifestyles, activities, and services. Since the courtyards had been transformed into big compounds, each contained far more than one household, so renovation could proceed only if all of the households agreed to move out. Therefore, a “parallel relocation and renovation” plan was implemented to enable those who chose to stay. Simply put, households who chose to remain in the area agreed to relocate to a different compound, so that the original compound would be vacant and therefore available for renovation. In addition to the facilities for daily life, cultural and innovative commercial units were introduced into over 20 courtyards, such as designer studios and workshops for practitioners of intangible cultural heritage, which integrated and created new cultural and innovative elements in the process of the urban regeneration. Secondly, the developers welcomed the opinions of the residents in order to encourage public participation in the whole process of urban regeneration and cultural protection. In the process of renovation, the contractors consulted with residents and business owners about topics as varied as the

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

89

color to paint the buildings to the layout of public facilities in the streets and lanes. In addition, various social groups, including relevant experts, people who supported the preservation of cultural relics, and even tourists, were allowed to discuss the project. Through public participation and small-scale renovation, the opinions of various parties were heard and local people were able to gain an understanding of the project, which helped the developers to maximize the retention of the area’s original traces of life and culture. Thirdly, through a microcircular method of renovation, the diversified block was protected. The buildings on Yangmeizhu Oblique Street were a reflection of Beijing’s history of the last century. A single building contained little artistic value on its own, but all the buildings in the area together formed a fantastic stage to create a project that showcased their coordinated scale and architectural forms, which in turn helped to preserve the kinds of urban life dramas inherent to the neighborhood. In the earlier projects discussed above, the one-time construction destroyed signs and cultural traces in the different eras of the historical and cultural blocks. Without massive demolition and reconstruction, Yangmeizhu Oblique Street adopted a microcircular renovation method, maintaining a humble and modest cultural atmosphere, avoiding the kind of big contrast brought by one-time construction, and providing another way of thinking about the difficult problem of urban regeneration. Once the renovation was completed, Yangmeizhu Oblique Street appeared to have not changed very much, so this approach may be an approach worthy of further development. (3) Unsolved problems Firstly, due to a lack of funds, the government shouldered the big fiscal burden related to the vacating and relocating of residents. An excessive concentration of population and services in the old city was the root of many problems. The Beijing Urban Master Plan identified decentralizing the population and services in the old city as a basic direction for future development. However, giving up the pattern of demolition and reconstruction meant that sources of funds went through a bottleneck. The renovation of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street was the first project within the Xicheng historical and cultural conservation zone in which the government was essentially the only investor (business capital was hardly involved). Due to the high price of land in the old city, relocating and compensating 529 households cost about 1.5 billion yuan. In contrast, the fund used for construction was rather poor. As a demonstration project, it was invested in by two levels of the urban government. In the long run, if the project relied on a government loan for support, the development could not sustain itself financially.

90 Wan Liu

Secondly, property rights were complex and the houses after relocation could not form effective assets. Most residents on Yangmeizhu Oblique Street only had around 10 m2 of housing, and the property rights were diversified, including public house, unit property, private house, and temple house. Among the relocated 591 households, fewer than 100 households successfully transferred the property rights to the project. Even then, the next round of renovation had to undergo a lengthy approval process, which posed many uncertainties for renewal and utilization. Thirdly, who was to be involved in the management of the project? How to ensure that it would be vital, motivated to improve, and capable of selfrenewal? The social management of the hutong after the urban regeneration was a new challenge for the government. In the case of car parking, the problem of illegal parking increased as the streets were broadened and repaved. In the blocks without official management, who would manage this kind of problem and how would they do it? In the future, who would be responsible for the maintenance of the environment and repair of the buildings? Currently, the answer to these questions was not to be found in the system design so the problems would have to be solved one step at a time. The healthy development of the blocks would only be achieved if they were able to be vital, motivated to improve, and capable of self-renewal. In fact, the three cases discussed in this chapter address the key issues facing the creation of cultural sites, but they have different orientations. The f irst case deals with development in a planned economy – in this instance the government provided an ideal historical and cultural site for society and saved a rundown cultural site, Liulichang Cultural Street. In the second case, Qianmen Street was renovated by making use of the concept of adopting market measures to guide the development of a historical site, which was the so-called concept of an “economic drama played out on a cultural platform.” In the third case, the development of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street was rooted in the people living in the area, which was a pattern of combining cultural development with maintaining the vitality of the community.

Ongoing challenges in Beijing’s urban regeneration The abovementioned cases reflected practices in the past few decades, from which we can see the development of the municipal government’s cultural strategies to achieve urban regeneration. Although problems involved in these cases came from different eras, they still persist in regeneration

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

91

projects today and still need solutions. These are not standalone problems, either – they are interlinked. (1) At what point do the government and the market balance? The lack of flexibility in the strong-government model leads to monotonous results, yet a strong-market model brings about, as a result of capital control, gentrification and replacement of local culture by profitable (albeit inauthentic) culture. As far as what was mentioned above, the top-down pattern is still dominant. If Liulichang Cultural Street was marked by the era of the planned economy and was a cultural undertaking mainly to create a cultural showcase to improve the city image, then 20 years later, although the main body of the operation was seemingly led by the market, the top-down planning pattern and the development of governmental control did not change much and still appears repeatedly in other practices. Even Yangmeizhu Oblique Street adopted many technical measures to reflect people’s will and free market orientation, yet it is fundamentally not free from top-down development. This pattern has advantages in some aspects, but also limitations, especially a lack of flexible space for creativity, which is a must-have factor for a creative urban renovation project. In addition, a top-down development pattern carries a high degree of risk due to its lack of self-regulation capability. In comparison, the top-down process, which means a lack of popular participation, usually results in a lack of diversity in regards to types of spaces created, the types of industry supported, and the types of consumption catered for. On the contrary, the bottom-up process usually produces informal spaces and temporary places that, once developed, will gradually come to be controlled by new sources of authority in the area and their natures will change subsequently. So we need to answer the following question: To achieve a cultural development strategy that leads to future healthy development, should the cultural industry be self-generated, or government-led, or a symbiosis and integration of the two? Another question arose, one that was related to the fact that the topdown urban regeneration and development of cultural industries did not maximize their advantages to compete with capital and improve the original residents’ capability to earn a living. In contrast, the social underclasses that were typically found living in these areas were generally forced to relocate. Currently, many urban regeneration practices in China still have to compromise with the interests of private investors and accept this result. Is this the inevitable fate of such development projects?

92 Wan Liu

(2) Can cultural strategies and economic goals benefit from each other? A large number of cases show that the current cultural strategies employed in urban regeneration projects in the region are standard and unimaginative copies of what has been done before and lack a sense of purpose and uniqueness. In Asian cities, the cultural homogenization caused by tourism-oriented cultural strategies are encroaching on the real local culture. Cultural consumption and cultural production should promote each other. Nevertheless, if tourism-oriented urban regeneration relies only on cultural consumption, the economic goal of making quick profits and realizing instant benefits results in short-sighted cultural phenomena – fake antiques, commercialization, and a lack of any real sense of cultural production in terms of guidance and promotion. While short-term economic goals may be achieved, the long-term effects need to be questioned. Among many cultural streets, it is regrettable to see that, without exception, regeneration begins with the creation of a cultural industry designed to meet the needs of tourist services. The high quality, commercially-driven renewal of the old city, with its focus on tourist services, serves to degrade and diminish any attempts to foster authentic “creativity.” The first and second such streets might be attractive, but simple repetition and replication results in a decrease in the ability to develop emerging spaces. When discussing creative cities, Charles Landry (2006) argues that creativity challenges norms and creates new experiences. Experience exits in predetermined patterns or topics, and leaves no space for imagination (ibid.). How to embrace the surprising rather than the standard image in our minds is what needs to be discussed when we are faced with various cultural streets in the major cities. In our deep-rooted cultural traditions and spatially featured cities, creativity or creative development should be a part of the overall urban cultural strategy. The urban generation should be actively integrated with creativity and the blending of the old and new will imbue traditional environments with new vitality. Behind this single cultural strategy in urban regeneration is the attitude toward quick success and instant profits. It simply connects a cultural renaissance with an economic renaissance, pursuing short-term benefits. Short-term market behavior determines a short-sighted development strategy. Following an established pattern seems to be a shortcut to rapidly recover the investment. Driven by the economic targets, culture is directly equivalent to a commodity with a price tag. A cultural strategy without direct economic benefits will not be accepted by the investors, even if it is favorable to the long-term urban development and economic revitalization

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

93

of the area. Similarly, the positive impact of creating engaging and free public space in the city is also ignored. So far, the cultural strategy of Beijing’s old city concentrated on stimulating cultural consumption. In urban regeneration projects carried out in Western countries, developing cultural production and stimulating cultural consumption are parallel cultural strategies. Summarizing some case studies of culture-led urban regeneration projects carried out in Western countries in the 1980s, Franco Bianchini (1999) pointed out that the cultural strategy of stimulating cultural consumption has had a limited impact on increasing wealth and creating jobs. Its main contribution was to shape the city image in order to attract visitors. Today China is still on the fast track of economic development and a large number of tourists continue to visit its cultural and historic sites, so the negative impact of a short-sighted cultural strategy can be easily disguised by a superficial prosperity. Does the presence of a lot of tourists mean that a real and sustainable cultural prosperity has been created? As a long-term, deep-rooted cultural strategy, the city needs a real “cultural-based production system” (Sasaki 2010). Only this can provide the kind of lasting impact needed to create successful long-term development. In fact, the role of cultural regeneration has been highly controversial in socioeconomic development. Some do not agree that the creation of a creative industry could be linked to urban regeneration (Comunian and Mould 2014), while others claim that arts and culture development can be used for wealth-generating purposes (Plaza et al. 2009; Scott 2006). No matter its aim, urban cultural strategies must not focus exclusively on short-term economic benefits – there must also be a long-term cultural goal. Cultural development is not the same as economic investment for pursuing returns. Its impact on social culture must be beneficial in the long run. (3) How can objects of physical space revival and the protection of social ecology be combined? It is the basic goal of cultural strategies to promote the cultural value of a region by means of physical space revival, and in turn to further improve the quality of the physical space. However, social justice is an unavoidable issue – if the local residents do not benefit from the revitalization of the city, whether by improving their living conditions, or increasing their employment opportunities, or protecting their interests if they are indigenous people, how is it possible to maintain the social ecology which is the foundation of culture? Associated with the second point, we have to think about whether the goals of developing a cultural industry merely promote economic

94 Wan Liu

development or improve the local residents’ quality of life. This starting point determines the criteria to adopt a certain kind of cultural strategy. In Western countries, promoting cultural tourism and providing jobs for local residents appear side-by-side in urban cultural policies. But in Beijing, the latter was not an important consideration. As Roberta Comunian and Oliver Mould (2014) say, rather than assuming that large cultural investments and cultural titles help local creative industries, it is important to consider what kind of benefits they can provide and verify and evaluate whether these benefits are realized. Currently, a large number of regeneration projects focus on updating physical structures only and do not include any consideration regarding beneficial functional changes and industrial restructuring and fail to improve organic functionality and provide jobs. These changes were not accompanied by the improvement of the original residents’ earning capacities. Therefore, massive construction projects have had negative effects on the living spaces of the local (typically lower-class) populations, which continue to be put under pressure and are usually required to relocate. This pattern is a repeated consequence and lasting plight of urban regeneration. This brings forward the question: Whom does urban regeneration serve? On the one hand, a benign renewal should attract talented workers from the creative or knowledge sectors who are suitable to work in new industries and enhance the level of population and productivity in these areas; on the other hand, it can help local residents to integrate into the new economy and generate a wide variety of benefits, all of which forms a virtuous cycle. In the current practice of urban regeneration, however, there is no long-term development strategy nor are there attractive polices to entice workers in the creative or knowledge sectors. At the same time, new demands are not generated to create an economic pattern to benefit local residents. There is a notable lack of consideration for multiple shareholders and a public concern for people-oriented concepts, resulting in damage to social justice practices and, ultimately, harm to the development, which diminishes the desire to realize the sustainable development of historical areas. Conservation of protection zones is not merely a technical issue; it also influences in a profound way the understanding of social issues and cultural concepts. An aging population, a concentration of low-income populations, the expansion of temporary employment, and the gentrification of select areas are among the social phenomenon that are related to traditional cultural protection. The maintenance of social justice and people’s livelihoods and ensuring the positive impact of the development and regeneration of protection zones are all key. These developments are more important than the simple regeneration of physical space.

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

95

(4) How can a short-term stimulus be turned into a long-term mechanism? Some of the practices used in short-term urban regeneration projects have a profound impact on the local area – these include the use of economic stimuli, policy guidance, media campaigns, and performance evaluations. As far as the whole city is concerned, without a long-term approach, such practices have an effect only in specific focal points and for short periods. In order to maintain long-term, healthy, stable, and sustainable development, institutional exploration is still to be expected. When considering whether to redevelop an urban area, there are important questions to ask. Should the economic sustainability of the project be the primary consideration? What about the revival of the physical space and the maintenance of the area’s social space? The case of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street shows that a broad cultural strategy can be successful, that is, a project can support the traditional cultural industry and creative industry all the while incorporating and building on public participation. However, we also find that in such a project, the government shoulders a heavy economic burden. Masayuki Sasaki (2010) believed that if the city’s economy does not have a marketing capability, sustainable development will prove elusive. We need to consider whether the example of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street could be promoted as an economic model that could be replicated without any support or investment from the government. How would it be possible to set up a rational, long-term regeneration mechanism? Or, is economic sustainability not the goal we are pursuing? The challenges above exist not only in Beijing, but also in most Chinese cities that are anxious to develop. In the past four decades since the Reform and Opening-up, by exploring and stumbling forward, experience has been accumulated while at the same time substantial costs were made. With the deepening pace of urbanization, it is needed now more than ever to rethink these basic issues and explore the future path of urban regeneration for Asian cities, where social, economic, and cultural revival should be carefully balanced and long-term development pursued.

Acknowledgements This project was supported by the National Key R&D Program of China No. 2018YFD1100100.

96 Wan Liu

References Bianchini, Franco. 1999. “Cultural Planning for Urban Sustainability.” In City and Culture: Cultural Processes and Urban Sustainability, ed. Louise Nyströom. Karlskrona: Swedish Urban Environment Council, 34-51. Comunian, Roberta and Oliver Mould. 2014. “The Weakest Link: Creative Industries, Flagship Cultural Projects and Regeneration.” City, Culture and Society 5(2): 65-74. Fu, Ping Chuan. 2009. “Spatial Study of Qianmen Street in Beijing.” Diss., Tsinghua University. Gong, Zheng. 2010. “Dashilan Built the Longest Commercial Walk Street.” Beijing Daily, 9 July. Kong, Jian Hua. 2011. “Twenty Years of History: The Development of Beijing Cultural Industry Experience and Enlightenment.” Art & Investment 2: 78-84. Landry, Charles. 2006. The Art of City Making. London: Earthscan. Landry, Charles, Franco Bianchini, and Ralph Ebert. 1996. The Creative City in Britain and Germany. London: Anglo German Foundation for the Study of Industrial Society. Liu, Wan. 2000. “Evolution of Urban Design Concepts: A Critical Review.” Urban Planning Review 12: 16-22. Liu, Wan. 2003. “The Scopes and Factors of Urban Design.” Urban Planning Forum 1: 76-80. Liu, Wan. 2006. Urban Design in a Social Approach: Theory, Practice and Evaluation. Beijing: China Architecture and Building Press. Ma, Xiao Long, and Bi Hu Wu. 2005. “Cooperation of Protection, Renovation of Historic Streets and Sustainable Development of Tourism: A Case Study of Dazhalan Area in Beijing.” City Planning Review 9: 49-54. Plaza, Beatriz, Manuel Tironi, and Silke N. Haarich. 2009. “Bilbao’s Art Scene and the ‘Guggenheim Effect’ Revisited.” European Planning Studies 17(11): 1711-1729. Sasaki, Masayuki. 2010. “Urban Regeneration through Cultural Creativity and Social Inclusion: Rethinking Creative City Theory through a Japanese Case Study.” Cities 27(SI): s3-s9. Scott, Allen J. 2006. “Creative Cities: Conceptual Issues and Policy Questions.” Journal of Urban Affairs 28(1): 1-17. Wang, Shi Ren. 2010. “A Practice in Protecting the Features of the Ancient Capital in Development: A Chronicle of Qianmen Street.” Contemporary Beijing Research 1: 32-36. Wen, Zong Yong, et al. 2014. “The Previous Life of Yangmeizhu Oblique Street: A New Model for the Soft Development of the City.” Beijing City Planning & Construction Review 6: 145-156.

Cultur al Dilemma in Beijing’s Urban Regener ation

97

Xu, Zhen Qiang, Fan Zhang, and Yu Chen Jiang. 2014. “The Current Situation, Problems and Countermeasures of the Development of Urban Renewal in China.” China Ancient City 4: 4-13. Zhai, Bin Qing, and Mee Kam Ng. 2009. “Urban Regeneration and Its Realities in Urban China.” Urban Planning Forum 2: 75-82. Zhang, Jun Cheng, and Hong Gen Cheng. 1989. “Why Beijing Liulichang Cultural Street Beyond Running?” Outlook Weekly 5: 28-30 Zhang, Bing. 2011. “Re-Thinking the Concept of Authenticity: Exploring China’s Way to Historic and Cultural City Conservation.” City Planning Review 1: 48-53. Zhang, Bing. 2015a. “Historic Urban and Rural Settlements: A New Category towards Regional and Integral Conservation of Cultural Heritage.” Urban Planning Forum 6: 5-11. Zhang, Bing. 2015b. “‘Relevance’ and ‘Systematic Method’ in the Overall Protection of Historical Cities and Towns.” Development of Small Cities and Towns 1: 21-23. Zhang, Bing. 2015c. “Review and Reflection on the Development of Urban and Rural Planning in China since the Reform and Opening-up.” Development of Small Cities and Towns 10: 25-27. Zhang, Bing, and Wan Liu. 2018. “Planning History Research in China: Past, Present, and Future.” Planning Perspectives 1: 113-124. Zhang, Lei. 2015. “The Modes of Urban Redevelopment in New Normal: Diversification and Transformation.” Urban Development Studies 12: 57-62.

Biography Wan Liu is Associate Professor in the School of Architecture at Tsinghua University. She has a PhD in urban planning and design, and is a national registered urban planner, a member of the Urban Design Academic Committee and the Urban Regeneration Academic Committee of the Urban Planning Society of China. She teaches and researches on urban design, historic preservation, community, site planning and design.

5

Housing as Heritage The Great Urban Dilemma of the Global City of Shanghai Non Arkaraprasertkul Abstract Across China, the preservation and reconstruction of European-styled buildings for commercial purposes has become a trend for urban development. Drawing inspiration from established global cities, Shanghai’s local government has aimed to accommodate both modern high-rise and heritage buildings as a major part of its “city with global inspiration” urban development program. Historic preservation, however, has so far been about protecting particular structures from which only members of the urban middle class can benefit from their historic value. Then, for whom is this historic preservation? Presenting a less benign side of preservation, this chapter ethnographically examines social change in urban life as a result of urbanization, presenting how historic preservation affects urban processes vis-à-vis a sense of place in the city of Shanghai. Keywords: Shanghai, social change, historic preservation, gentrification, urban space

Introduction Across China, the preservation and reconstruction of European-styled buildings for commercial purposes has become a trend for urban development. This has been the case especially during the past two decades. After the quasi-colonial period of more than a century (1842-1945), a few of these buildings survived heavy usage during the high communist era (1949-1978) during which they were reoccupied by workers. During the first decade of the Reform and Opening-up (gaigekaifang) era that began in the early 1980s, these buildings continued to be heavily used. Drawing

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch05

100 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

inspiration from urban planning in cities such as New York, London, and Tokyo, Shanghai’s local government has since the early 2000s been building the city to accommodate both modern high-rise and heritage buildings. The local government of Shanghai sees city branding as a major part of its urban development program (see Development Research Center 2014). Integral to this emerging brand is the preservation of historic buildings – what major global cities commonly share (Ren 2008). In recent years, the authority’s perceptions of these buildings have changed from being dilapidated remnants of colonialism to be replaced, to “historical artifacts” worthy of preservation to be protected as the city’s cultural capital (Urban Land Institute 2014). Nevertheless, both preservation and reconstruction do not come cheap. While there are many sociocultural reasons to support government-led preservation of historic structures, a compromise is often necessary. Although an ideal use of these buildings after renovation would be to accommodate their long-term residents to maintain the existing sociohistorical fabric of the city, it is more often the case that such an ideal does not pass the so-called “pragmatic scrutiny.” Economists and planners tend to favor maximizing financial return, in order to arrive at the best economic use of land resources. This economic argument extends to concern for opportunity costs, as higher-density structures could be built to accommodate more people instead of preserving low-density historic buildings (Glaeser 2011). Altering the usage of these buildings to commercial use, therefore, seems inevitable. This economic mode of thinking, however, will almost ensure that historic preservation is not meant for those who once resided there. By this economic logic, the function of these buildings will need to be altered to make up for the loss incurred by the otherwise golden opportunity to build structures with more profitable spaces. Consequently, residents living in “historic houses” get asked to leave their houses in order for the houses to be preserved (Shao 2013). There is an immediate question: Should historic preservation be about protecting something from which only members of a certain social class can benefit? The irony here can be encapsulated in a simple question: For whom is this historic preservation? On the one hand, the scenario of historic preservation presented here may seem as though it is all about class warfare. On the other hand, historic preservation has also been an antidote to the bulldoze-and-rebuild land reclamation process. While there are many sociocultural and psychological benefits from this unanticipated conservation of the past (Zhang 2015; Shao and Ruan 2002; Mo and Lu 2000), such benefits have to be weighed against the problems that they bring. For instance, an informant, a 72-year-old retired cadre who lived in a historic house from 1949, had to leave the house

Housing as Heritage

101

Figure 5.1 A map of China showing the location of Shanghai (above) and a map of Shanghai showing the location of the city on the Yangtze River Delta (below)

Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

where he had lived for almost six decades. This was because his house was to be completely revamped and turned into a luxury wristwatch store. The parent company of this store, a transnational corporation, could pay a much

102 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

higher rent than this retired cadre could to make up for the cost of renovating the house in addition to the opportunity cost of keeping a low-rise historic building. It was not only unlikely but also financially impossible for this retired cadre to be able to compete with the transnational corporation. He, therefore, had to leave the place he called home and resettle at a remote place. Questionable was whether or not he was leaving his home “voluntarily,” as it was he who took the compensation and moved out because of the lack of other options. At his new home in the suburb located 40 kilometers away from the city center from which he moved, he found it difficult to rebuild a new social network. It is clear that the 72-year-old retired cadre would have never left his “historic home” if he had had the choice. There are many stories similar to his, where some are simply painful and some show how residents strategically deal with the uncertainties that they must face (Smart 2018; Logan 2018; Wu 2017). On the surface, this attempt would be seen as “benefitting” the city, as a historic house would be here to stay for future generations, tourists, and nonlocals to get a sense of what was once the dominant form of housing in the city. That said, to this retired cadre, how was this any different from a robbery? Like this retired cadre, the majority of the residents living in “historic structures” were still living in the buildings. The conditions of these buildings can actually be improved through much less expensive renovation efforts. One can argue that moderate renovations would potentially extend its usability for a few more decades. This, in fact, is a true story of another one of my informants who was asked to leave his house that was located in what would become “a prime retail shopping area with a historic feel” six years later. The compensation he received was a one-bedroom apartment in one of the nine new suburbs in Shanghai. He has been coping with the loss of his social world that had taken him more than four decades to build by taking a two-hour commute each way daily from his suburban apartment to the area where he used to live to meet with old neighbors. The old neighbors of his also make the same journey from their new suburban homes. Recognizing both the need to preserve the remnants of its history and to accommodate a large number of people, how should Shanghai deal with this “great urban dilemma”? Responses to this great urban dilemma have varied across the globe. In developing countries, the most frequent cases involve the local government’s use of a weakly defined “common good” to legitimize eviction, the execution of eminent domain, and other legal means to reclaim the land and historic monuments. All of these processes have been conducted at the expense of the locals who once resided there. The case of Shanghai, however, illustrates

Housing as Heritage

103

Figure 5.2 A scene in a branch lane similar to that of this 72-year-old retired cadre where senior residents have set up a table for others to join in and engage in conversations or communal activities

Photograph by the author

a much more dynamic interaction between the actors involved, including local residents, new residents, local government, and property developers. In particular, residents attempt to protect their rights and maximize the potential benefits they could gain while knowing their limited agency. Exemplifying this issue are contestations surrounding the traditional alleyway houses of Shanghai known as lilong (li means neighborhood and long means lanes). Literally meaning “neighborhood lane,” the lilong are the legacies of Shanghai’s Treaty Port era (1842-1945), representing the Western-Chinese hybrid take on the British row house aesthetic and function (Liang‌2008). Through long-term ethnographic research and mixed architectural-historical methods, I present in this chapter a picture of how the notion of historic preservation shapes existing urban lilong neighborhoods in Shanghai as a case study of this great urban dilemma.

Housing and urbanization The preservation of aging buildings in Shanghai has both positive and negative impacts on the lives of the local residents. For those living in the

104 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

buildings in the most dilapidated conditions, the positive impact is clear. It is the opportunity to escape from a hazardous environment, such as a room without ventilation (e.g., a window), and lacking water supply and an adequate sewage system (Pellow 1993). Through ethnographic insights gained during my research, I have elsewhere challenged the “preserving at all cost” mandate of many architects and historians (Arkaraprasertkul 2010b). It is equally important to be critical of both state and scholarly narratives. In an article presenting research that I had conducted in 2011 (Arkaraprasertkul 2012a), I show how a renowned foreign historian (whose name shall remain anonymous) who argued for this mandate presented a “physically difficult yet deeply romantic” lifestyle of the residents in historic structures. Claiming to understand such a condition through “a first-hand experience,” it has turned out to be the case that this scholar was living in a historic house that had been entirely and exorbitantly renovated with completely upgraded infrastructure that was about five times the size of a normal lilong house. Since the early 2000s, the Shanghai local government has used preservation to legitimize moving less privileged residents to the urban periphery, to reclaim urban spaces for higher-income residents. This phenomenon was, in fact, not new to Shanghai. For decades, gentrification has been at the center of multiple debates in urban studies, geography and planning (Tomba 2017; La Grange and Pretorius 2016; Shin, Lees, and López-Morales 2016; Jou, Clark, and Chen 2016; Chang 2016). This phenomenon in China in particular, however, was a source of perplexity for the generations of Chinese residents who had lived under the high communist era in China (1949-1978), during which the housing stock was entirely provided by the state. Despite the structural inefficiency of such provision, there was a sense of satisfaction felt by the working-class residents who were provided with this basic necessity of life (Lu, Rowe, and Zhang 2001). This property-led gentrification (1978-present) is a phenomenon of the Reform and Opening-up (gaigekaifang) era. Because of its massive socioeconomic and political impact on urbanization, this phenomenon has been a topic of scholarly research; most scholars seem to agree on both the qualitative and quantitative impacts of this social change and transformation (Fong 1989; Lee 1988; Kim 1987; Dwyer 1986; Rapson 1982; Ma 1981). As a result, Shanghai’s urban fabric has been dominated by a series of observable divisions: old low-rise houses versus high-rise apartments, old neighborhoods full of small lanes versus urban superblocks, and old (mostly retired) working-class versus young middle-class residents. These differences are viewed by many as the

Housing as Heritage

105

inevitable condition of change brought about by the process of state-led urbanization (Ong 2014). In this chapter, however, I suggest that these differences are the contradictory residual effects of socialism and the emergence of a new economic system that places emphasis on the return on individual capital rather than the collective interest of society – some may call this system neoliberalism (Harvey 2005). Based on more than a decade-long research on Shanghai (Arkaraprasertkul 2007, 2008, 2009a, 2009b, 2010a, 2010b, 2010c, 2012a, 2012b, 2013, 2016a, 2016b, 2016c, 2018a, 2018b), I present an ethnographic case examining the changes in urban life as a result of the rapid urbanization that has taken place in Shanghai during the last three decades. As historians have shown, residents of Shanghai only engaged with the economic activities of the Reform and Opening-up era a decade after the first seven coastal cities had already begun to be transformed into urban manufacturing bases (Leighton 2010; Bergère 2009).1 The attitudes underlying this opinion encourage the local government of Shanghai to romanticize lilong neighborhood life in Shanghai (Esposito et al. 2014; Warr 2009). As with the gradually disappearing courtyard houses (commonly known as hutong or siheyuan) in Beijing (Zhang and Fang 2003; Wu 1999), the lilong are at the center of the sociopolitical conflict over urban redevelopment both at the state and local levels owing to their dual nature as both artifacts and communities (Morris 1994). The city’s image-conscious definition of urban development is, in large part, at odds with the locals who are living in these communities, who equate such “development” with what the geographer Fulong Wu (2005) calls “property-led gentrification.” Residents know that this process would eventually replace their neighborhoods with higher density and higher economic value (such as high-rise) buildings. The renovation process would be exclusive to revamping existing buildings for commercial 1 This forced delay was due to the uncertainty of the political situation in the city after the death of Mao Zedong in 1976 and the end of the high communist era in 1978, in which Shanghai played a role as epicenter of much political turmoil. That said, this decade-long delay obviously did not put Shanghai much behind other coastal cities. In fact, not many cities have been able to show off their capacity to rebuild their economic system so swiftly. Scholars have argued that the fast reaccumulation of capital was not only the result of preferential treatment from the central government – making Shanghai the “dragon’s head” – but the capitalistic mindset of its residents who, for three decades, had to be suppressed to survive high communism. Spurring massive foreign direct investment (FDI), especially from Hong Kong, was the sense of attachment of overseas investors whose families had fled Shanghai upon the takeover of the Chinese Communist Party. During the 1990s, leasing out urban land to businesses and developers was the main source of income for the local government. These lands were constantly reclaimed from the working class for investment in businesses that would yield higher returns.

106 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

purposes, which would inevitably lead to the displacement of the current residents from their homes (as in the case of the 72-year-old retired cadre). The notion of “significant architectural heritage” (Arkaraprasertkul 2010a) becomes a political tool in the city of Shanghai. The implication is that it represents the benign efforts of the state to preserve the history of the city for both residents and visitors. The preservation of the lilong façade, while neglecting more substantive improvements to the dilapidated interiors, symbolizes the efforts of seemingly concerned local authorities to maintain a dialogue between Shanghai’s past and present. With this discourse of historic preservation, the local government utilizes the lilong in its city-branding strategy. In other words, property-led gentrification becomes a tool to keep the old historical façade of Shanghai without losing its economic value. Many residents, consequently, live in a perpetual state of uncertainty. This was especially the hard truth that I have learned from my informants during my 18-month ethnographic research, living in a lilong compound with the residents. Some residents, usually either low income or retired (receiving limited support from the local government), were in constant fear of eviction despite their legitimate household registrations, which, as the historian Qin Shao (2013) observes, are not entirely useful for combating the powerful coalition between the local government and developers that often adjusts laws and regulations to suit their needs at the expense of residents. Lower-middle-class residents face a seemingly unending process of negotiations with various government agents to receive compensation for the foreseeable loss of their homes (Wai 2006). To protect their right to their houses, local residents have adopted survival strategies, including initiating campaigns to inform the public about the importance of these neighborhoods, and shrewdly utilizing the image of a successfully gentrified neighborhood that hews to the state’s “global city” discourse (Chen 2009; De Kloet and Scheen 2013; Den Hartog 2010; Olds 1997). Residents broadcast their resistance to outsiders by various means, utilizing media, resources, and information, which in turn slows down the efforts of both the local government and private developers to engage in a precipitous act. As I have shown elsewhere, some neighborhood residents rent out their spaces to foreigners to claim, implicitly, access to coveted symbolic capital (Arkaraprasertkul 2016b). Under the popular belief that foreigners prefer to live in historic-looking houses rather than high-rise apartments because they see the “culture value” of the city, the business of renovating old houses for foreigners constitutes a large part of both Shanghai’s interior design and housing renovation economy (Doctoroff 2009). “Would you tear down a historic house that even foreigners would want to live in?” one resident asked.

Housing as Heritage

107

In this chapter, my goal is to lay out the central issues of housing and heritage in a city aspiring to become a global city. I will first provide a historical sketch of the housing typology known as the lilong, emphasizing its past as both private and worker’s housing. It was during this period that the existing physical structure of the lilong began to show signs of dilapidation, and also that the perception of how one would see this housing typology had begun to change from that of the public to communal housing. Second, I will introduce my field site and the methods I used in conducting this research.2 In the third part of this chapter, I will discuss the ways in which the image of Xintiandi, a commercially successful globalized retail district, influences how the local residents perceive, understand, and express their interest in the issue. In conjunction with what I had observed in my field site, this part will also outline how historic residential neighborhoods either get turned into retail compounds, or are completely removed, both to serve the interest of residents with higher income – also known as the new middle class. Finally, I will discuss how we might understand the emerging trend of historic preservation and its impact on the urban process vis-à-vis a sense of a place in the city of Shanghai.

Lilong houses and Shanghai: A historical sketch Since China’s involuntary opening up of trade as a treaty port to foreign powers as a result of its defeat in the Opium War in 1842, Shanghai became a semi-colony of the British and later on of the French, as it was deemed the most convenient point of access for foreign goods and the export of China’s products. The British were the first to arrive to Shanghai in the mid-1840s and reorganized the city’s spatial structure to accommodate the treaty port’s commercial activities. By way of what they called the “Land Regulations of 1845” they imposed new comprehensive planning on the organically grown, medium-sized market town (Johnson 1995). Because of Shanghai’s flat geography, a grid structure was conveniently imposed, and became the basis of land division and property investment in the bounded territory called the International Settlement. Local Chinese laborers were hired to work in this bounded territory. A new form of housing was introduced to accommodate these laborers (Arkaraprasertkul 2009b). The lilong houses were basically Western row houses transplanted to Shanghai (for detailed architectural studies of the lilong, see Geleigeli 2015; 2 In order to serve the best interests of the community as well as my study, the precise location will not be disclosed and the name of the neighborhood will be anonymized.

108 Non Ark ar apr asertkul Figure 5.3 An aerial view of the International Settlement of Shanghai, circa 1934

Source: Virtual Shanghai Project (Image ID: 2024; Title: Bird’s-eye view of the Public Recreation Ground and surroundings; repository: Institut d’Asie Orientale)

Guan 1996; Luo and Zhang 2007; Wang and Chen 1987). British developers first built lilong houses to provide basic accommodation for the Chinese who were hired by foreign enterprises. A typical lilong neighborhood is a walled community composed of a main lane running all or halfway across each block. Smaller lanes branch off, connecting perpendicularly to the main lane to provide circulation for other housing units, which are packed as many as possible into a single neighborhood. Western developers saw this layout of lilong neighborhoods as the most economical and efficient way to accommodate the higher density of urban population, foregoing any concern for spatial needs or appropriate sanitary conditions. They were replicas of traditional British row houses (Bracken 2013). Between the row houses were small lanes for accessing each unit. There were no open spaces besides these lanes, which automatically served as spaces for additional cooking (since there was a kitchen stove in the room in the back of the house), meeting, washing, and so on. With the success of the first few units, the lilong neighborhoods became the dominant form of housing in the city of Shanghai by the late nineteenth century, which was also later adopted as a housing practice in the French Concession (1849-1943) as well as in the other parts of the British Settlement, which later incorporated itself with other settlements to become the Shanghai International Settlement (1863-1941).

Housing as Heritage

109

At the peak of Shanghai’s commercial boom in the 1930s, there were more than 200,000 units of lilong houses in Shanghai (Lim 2006). These units housed around three million people until the 1940s, an era during which China was rife with global and domestic wars. After the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) founded the People’s Republic in 1949, the entire lilong housing stock was confiscated from the original owners and redistributed to the local residents and workers who would live there until the neighborhoods were torn down in the decades to come. The 200,000 lilong were unable to accommodate the eleven million residents in the city in the early 1980s. The local government resorted to the market to unburden itself of the public service of housing maintenance by offering private ownership to the original residents at low cost, and to build more housing for the new residents (Peng 1986). Thousands of lilong neighborhoods, which were no longer considered the most economic form of housing, were removed during this period to make way for higher-density housing typologies, such as the mid-rise walkups and high-rise apartments we see in Shanghai today (Lu, Rowe, and Zhang 2001). It was not until the early 2000s, about 20 years after the economic reform, that the majority of people in Shanghai were no longer living in the lilong houses. According to the data provided by the Cultural Heritage Protection Department of the Shanghai Municipality Administration (Yang 2013), there were fewer than a hundred lilong neighborhoods left in the city, compared to 150 just five years ago.

Field site and research methods In order to conduct an immersive ethnographic study, I chose a wellpreserved lilong compound located in the center of the city of Shanghai as a field site. With a modest research budget, I rented a room located next to the stairwell at the back of the row of a lilong house and lived there for eighteen months. This kind of room is typically referred to by locals as a “pavilion room” (tingzijian in both Mandarin Chinese and local Shanghainese dialect) and it is usually located between the first and the second floors. This decision turned out to serve the goal of my research to study my main group of informants, which were the low-income residents, particularly the Shanghainese retirees living on limited pensions. These residents were granted the right to live in this neighborhood during the high communist period. At the time of this ethnographic research, they were in the middle of the great urban dilemma, between giving up their rights and moving out or remaining there and hoping for a better outcome. One-third of my

110 Non Ark ar apr asertkul Figure 5.4 An aerial photograph of a surviving traditional Shanghainese low-rise neighborhood known locally as the lilong. This photograph shows this centrally-located neighborhood surrounded by high-rise buildings similar to those surrounding Tranquil Light

Photograph by Sue Anne Tay of Shanghai Street Stories

informants were migrants from other parts of China who were residing in this neighborhood in Shanghai because it was affordable for them. Even though the lilong neighborhood that I studied, which I will refer to with the pseudonym the “Tranquil Light Neighborhood,” was technically a gated community, thousands of passers-by walked through it daily using its main lane as a shortcut between two busy streets. There were two gates on either side of the compound that were also open to the public. Pedestrians who used this shortcut knew that it not only shortened the distance by 200 meters, but it was also much safer than walking on narrow sidewalks on the main streets where vehicular traffic often caused accidents. School children, in particular, were instructed by their parents and teachers to cut through the Tranquil Light Neighborhood to get home from their school, which was located on one of the streets sandwiching the neighborhood. Built between the end of the 1920s and the early 1930s, there were 183 buildings at the time of this research. Two dozen lilong houses had been razed in order to make

Housing as Heritage

111

Figure 5.5 A computer-generated rendering of a cross-sectional view of a typical row house in Tranquil Light showing both the courtyard on the southfacing side frontage of the house and the space on each floor

Rendering by Steven Y.N. Chen

space for the entrances of a new metro stop to be built right underneath the neighborhood. The Tranquil Light Neighborhood was built in the “new style” of a lilong neighborhood, which refers to the fact that the houses were built with an internal bathroom on each floor and were much smaller in size. At the time of my research, the neighborhood accommodated about 950 households (ranging from one to three people per household) for a total of almost 3000 residents. Among these households only a very small number were original owners who bought their homes in the early 1930s. Most of the original owners left Mainland China (for Taiwan and Hong Kong) when the CCP took power. The houses were confiscated for redistribution.3 Since then, the structure of the community had been rapidly altered to accommodate an increasing number of residents. The population increased by around three to four times the size for which the neighborhood was originally designed. More than two-thirds of the current residents – which I will call the “old residents” – moved in between the 1960s and the 1980s. At the time of my research, about a third of the residents were tenants renting rooms from these old residents. These renters, including me, were diverse in terms of their age, income, and professional groups. Some of my key informants from these groups were Shanghainese in their late 20s and early 30s, migrant 3

For detailed historical studies of housing in urban China, see Yang and Chen (2014); Wu (2013).

112 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

workers between the ages of 30 and 40, and non-Mainland Chinese citizens from Taiwan, Hong Kong, and the US. As mentioned, I used ethnography as my main research method, becoming a part of the community I studied.4 In order to be a legitimate participant of the community, I had myself officially registered with the local neighborhood committee (known as the juweihui), the most intimate level of government in charge of civil affairs, overseeing and enforcing microlevel policies such as family planning, mobile population management, crime prevention, and census administration (Lieberthal 1995). The relationship between the neighborhood and the original residents, who constituted the majority of the residents in the Tranquil Light Neighborhood, was crucial to my research. The neighborhood committee provided the residents, who were mostly retirees, with not only the basic healthcare services (e.g., weekly blood pressure checks and home delivery of basic medicines) but also hygienic and physical maintenance of the environment such as pavements (Tomba 2014). Hence, I never missed an opportunity to take part in an activity organized by the neighborhood committee, which often involved the lively participation of the local resident retirees. Supplementing my ethnographic data are historical materials from the municipal depositories, such as the Shanghai Municipal Archives and the Shanghai Library. These materials include the community’s history, and the history of the lilong houses.

Tradition for sale “How can you live there?” “Wow, do you really live there?”

These were the two striking responses when I told people I lived in the Tranquil Light Neighborhood. “A less-than-eight-square-meter pavilion 4 To integrate into the community as part of my daily routine, I joined my neighbors at the communal water dispenser and did my vegetable shopping in the lanes. I had my meals by the stairwell window, and sometimes, if the weather permitted, in the lane itself, where I could see people walking through the community via the main gate and could note different characteristics of the lane. Every day in the afternoon, I walked around the community (the so-called “daily stroll”), during which time I often bumped into familiar neighbors thanks to the open structure of the lilong lanes. Because most of my neighbors were senior citizens with considerable amounts of free time, lengthy chats were common. To be more visible, I would often sit in front of my main door on a folding chair (see an interview with me that Shanghai Street Stories has conducted).

Housing as Heritage

113

Figure 5.6 The lanes of Xintiandi where the stark contrast between the “old” lilong houses in the foreground and the new modern high-rises in the background can be visually experienced by all visitors

Photograph by Kenneth Niemeyer

room in a preserved historically important architectural neighborhood [youxiulishijianzhubaohu] to conduct my ethnographic research,” was the trigger for these two reactions. The name of the aforementioned retail district Xintiandi also came up frequently as a spontaneous response from my informants in the Tranquil Light. In the past decade, Xintiandi was almost synonymous with the term “historical preservation” itself. “Why don’t you go to Xintiandi if you want to study a lilong?” Most well-known preservation projects in Shanghai were mainly commercial (Yu, Chen, and Zhong 2015). The Xintiandi project was well known for its novelty as it rebuilt a typical lilong neighborhood. It was so popular that Shanghai’s government decided to name a metro station after it. Xintiandi was a part of a larger land development that began in the 1990s. Before it became one of Shanghai’s most famous upscale retail and leisure precincts, it was once a typical lilong neighborhood that was ubiquitous in the area. Although most residents of Shanghai were familiar with the lilong neighborhood typology, no local professionals before the architect of Xintiandi saw it as a potential typology for a retail project. An explanation may be that a traditional-looking lilong neighborhood was far less convincing as a

114 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

symbol of the new era of economic development compared to the skyscrapers popping up around in the city. Shanghai in the 1990s, as many historians have observed, was a city that was coming out of a time capsule (Wasserstrom 2009). Almost all buildings looked the same as they did before 1949, and all the buildings built afterward were built in the most minimalistic and economical fashion possible following the style of housing for workers in the USSR (Bao 2000). The new high-rise typology was both more economical (as it would house more people) and seductive (as it represented novelty and, arguably, modernity) to the government, developers, and local citizens. There were many neighborhoods like Xintiandi in the city and they were mostly associated with citizens of lower socioeconomic status who could not afford to move out of poverty into the new middle-class high-rise apartments. Ironically, there was nothing old about the Xintiandi. The entire place had been razed to the ground in order to be rebuilt from the ground up. The American architect Benjamin Wood decided to knock down a compound of Shanghainese alleyway houses just to rebuild it exactly the way it used to look in order to recreate the unique “Siena-styled” ambience of a human-scale Piazza del Campo. This particular project later became the poster child for the preservation of authentic Shanghainese houses and was replicated across China.5 In fact, if asked, the local residents would say that Xintiandi was special because it represented the presentable history of Shanghai in a constructed form with which the locals themselves were more comfortable. The “new oldness” of Xintiandi, in this sense, could be understood as being all about the newness of the approach to building a retail space (Mo and Lu 2000; Yager and Kilbourn 2004; Wu and He 2005). Xintiandi attracted foreign visitors and out-of-town domestic tourists because it represented something different from the ubiquitous air-conditioned malls. In the neighborhood that I once studied, which was a typical lilong neighborhood not so far from the Xintiandi, I was met with bemusement from the local residents when I told them that I was in their neighborhood to study its sophisticated architecture. “This [our neighborhood] place is not real – it’s

5 Benjamin Wood, the architect of the Xintiandi project, had never made a trip to China prior to his visit to Shanghai at the invitation of the developer. Ironically, he got the idea for the Xintiandi from a mountain town in Italy, not from the impression he had walking around the old Shanghai’s alleyways in the way many might have wanted to believe. Despite the fact that, according to him, he would rather renovate the old alleyway houses that would later be turned into a high-end retail district like his previous f irm did for Boston’s Quincy Market, he had to rebuild it from the ground up because of building code regulations concerning mandatory seismic requirements. Source: Interview with Benjamin Wood, 16 November 2009.

Housing as Heritage

115

old, ramshackle, and ugly! Do us a favor and just go to the Xintiandi, will you?” One of my key informants told me. While on the surface, the resident’s narrative gave the sense that they were “shamed” into undervaluing what they have, I see it as the means by which they were paving their way into the global-state narrative. In my previous writing (Arkaraprasertkul 2013), I discussed how the enactment of this sense of “lacking” has ramifications for helping the residents gain the upper hand in the compensation business. The more they could encourage the government to see them as submissive to the development program that the authorities seek to execute, the more compensation they could receive from the relocation process (Arkaraprasertkul 2016c). In other words, there are indications that the old residents were inclined to re-enact and valorize the lifestyle of past times, performing their conformity with the historic preservation movement in Shanghai. For example, Mr. Hu, a 69-year-old informant, had lived in the Tranquil Light for more than three decades. Not only did he purposefully keep the same lifestyle he had for the last three decades, but he also brought back performances as well as old traditions that were lost during the high communist period. He was known among the local residents as well as the members of neighborhood committee as the go-to person when it came to anything that had to do with the local history of the neighborhood. These performances benefitted him in several ways, including his main business as a local realtor for available rooms for rent in the community. He always added a “touch of history” to the stories he told about each of the rooms that he was trying to rent out, especially to foreigners who accounted for about half of his regular clients. This enactment of an unchanging past has political potential, as residents themselves become implicated in the state’s projects of “traditionalism” (this is based on my own ethnographic research as well as classic studies by the anthropologist G. William Skinner, see Bestor 1989). On the other hand, incoming residents who rent renovated spaces are enticed by globally circulating romanticist preconceptions of traditional Chinese neighborhood life. It took almost three full years between 1999 and 2001 to reconstruct Xintiandi, hence many people across the city knew Xintiandi was completely rebuilt – in fact, from the underground level up, since it was seismic concerns that motivated the authorities in charge of regulating building codes. Thus, the fact that most of my informants would rather want me to consider as “authentic” (didao) something recently built to look old is telling, especially in light of how their perceptions of history might have diversified and changed over time. The direct importance of Xintiandi was that there had been speculation that it would be the “future of the Tranquil Light.” My

116 Non Ark ar apr asertkul Figure 5.7 Another scene in a branch lane similar to that of Mr. Hu where senior residents have set up a small grocery shop to sell household items as well as for others to join in and engage in conversations or communal activities

Photograph by the author

informants were speculating on this possible scenario. These residents believed that eventually they would be relocated to other housing units that were more spacious, and that Tranquil Light would be turned into a high-end retail district like Xintiandi owing to its central location, convenient access to public transportation, and sophisticated “heritage” architectural style. The Shanghai government regards historic preservation of selected sites including lilong neighborhoods as “essential to the branding of a city with global ambitions” (Shao and Ruan 2003). Yet, there is little consideration of how the existing residents of said “historical monuments” fit into the overall architectural preservation of the sites. Hence, what we see here is an interest in physical architectural preservation rather than preserving the local culture and way of life. One may wonder why designated historic structures are not clustered in groups but scattered around the city. That is because the Shanghai government has been handpicking “worthy” structures to preserve, which made the “unworthy” structures available for immediate bulldozing.

Housing as Heritage

117

Figure 5.8 A construction blueprint showing one of the elevations of the Tranquil Light

Source: Shanghai City Planning and Land Resources Department/Authority (The document number, architect, and other details are concealed to protect the anonymity of the neighborhood)

The first foreseeable issue if Tranquil Light were to be gentrified is that it would be preserved as a single historic neighborhood amid the surrounding high-rise buildings. The remaining residents, who were used to shopping at cheap street markets, would find themselves surrounded by high-rise buildings with fruit and vegetables available only in “modern” supermarkets filled with imported products, targeted at affluent workers (that usually cost three to five times more than those from open-air vegetable vendors). The same would apply to residents’ social lives, as they used to share their social activities with neighbors from nearby communities. Once the network of cross-community neighbors was absent, the remaining residents would not be able to maintain the continuity of the sense of neighborhood, which would presumably affect their sense of personhood and lead them, eventually, to move elsewhere. Second, there seems to be little effort on the local government’s part to maintain a sense of community among retirees in urban Shanghai. The local government seems to be interested only in revamping the façade of the houses, but not the living conditions inside the houses. For instance, a considerable amount of investment was made during the two years leading to the World Expo in Shanghai in 2010 in renovating the Tranquil Light to its original 1930s condition as part of the Expo’s “Better City, Better Life” (chengshi rang shijie

118 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

gengmei hao) campaign (Bugatti and Zheng 2006; Fernsebner 2010; Larmer 2010). These renovations included installing awnings over all windows, refurbishment of pavements, building new iron gates, and redecorating motifs. All of which were done in accordance with the original designs based on the original blueprints and archival photos. The living conditions of the residents, however, remained the same. Some residents spent their own money to renovate their homes, particularly the basic infrastructure that needed to be upgraded such as water boilers, gas stoves, and flooring. For such residents, renting out their centrally located rooms to renters often yielded desirable financial returns. Not all residents, however, had the financial means to make the necessary renovations to attract renters. Some residents would ideally have wanted to live as members of the community but were often tempted to follow previous residents who moved elsewhere (usually to a much newer place with more equipped facilities). They did so after renting out their rooms to others in exchange for the cash to rent a new place. Others who were unable to benefit from the process became increasingly antagonistic over the perceived unfairness of the preservation policy. These developments divided the community and often intensified tensions among older residents, as well as between them and the newcomers.

Scarcity: Housing as heritage In the global hierarchy of value (Herzfeld 2004), cities appropriate representative elements of the developed world as a means of connecting themselves to the flow of global cultural value. This appropriation usually results in the abandonment of the living residents who embody the history of the city in the first place. As with many other cities, local authorities in Shanghai have deemed the façade of old lilong houses historical artifacts par excellence, though not so long ago, like the old hutong courtyard houses in Beijing, they were demolished so that modern high-rise apartments could be built. The diminishing number of the lilong houses represents the growing scarcity of historical artifacts. In social psychology, a term explaining this phenomenon the “scarcity principle,” whereby more value is assigned to opportunities when they become less available (Cialdini 2009; Thaler 2015). Such “opportunities” are declining rapidly through the systematic reclaiming of Shanghai’s prominent urban spaces, adding to the list of reasons to see the scarcity of the lilong as a threat to Shanghai’s aspiring global status. As the psychologist Robert B. Cialdini (2009) argues, the “limited number” and “deadline” tactics are among the most pressuring heuristics of the scarcity principle,

Housing as Heritage

119

of which the disappearance of the lilong ticks both boxes. Sociologically, one might also resort to Michael Thompson’s Rubbish Theory: The Creation and Destruction of Value (1979). Objects can change their status from being “rubbish” to being “durable” (or having value). Thompson (1979, 9-10) writes: Normally, an object would reach zero value and zero expected lifespan at the same instant, and then disappear into dust. But, in reality, it usually does not do this; it just continues to exist in a timeless and valueless limbo where, at some later date it has the chance of being (re)discovered.

The determining factor for an object’s “discovery” is the criteria of value set by powerful trendsetters who are members of the social system among whom such object is circulated, and they, like many of us, see the loss of freedom to acquire their desired object as a loss of their social rights. If the powerful see a particular object as collectible (i.e., as an “exoticized” or “othered” item) that object then becomes “durable” – something that has escaped the naturalist notion of decay. Hence, in the neoliberal economic system in which the socioeconomic status of the powerful complicates what Karl Marx (1990) calls the notion of “use value” and “exchange value,” the way in which an old artifact becomes valuable could be understood in terms of the domination of the powerful. The luxury wristwatch shop that pushed the 72-year-old retired cadre out of his own house was an example of this kind of domination. We may agree that the success of Xintiandi lies in its creation of a very “unique” experience thanks to the flow of capital. As the lilong houses there were not even original, the success of Xintiandi lies in how it takes advantage of the availability of the experience, which, in turn, serves as a convenient “cue” for what can be understood as quality. The imagery association with the high-end transnational corporations in Xintiandi only intensifies the confirmation bias. Many financially well-off businesses and foreigners also systematically take advantage of this principle (Zhong and Chen 2017; Arkaraprasertkul 2018b). It was Western scholars who initially brought to the attention of the local government that the lilong are, in fact, valuable heritage. There is, in fact, a certain symmetry to this, as the idea and design of lilong houses emanates, also, from the West. From the process of determining which houses or neighborhoods are worth preserving to who is to be relocated with compensation or not, the lack of transparency is a far cry from what the residents experienced during the period before the reform. Most residents now face eviction, legitimated as being for the weakly defined “common good” (Liu 2015). Residents with clientelist ties (guanxi) with a work unit (danwei) are the lucky ones, as they

120 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

are usually relocated to new housing complexes. Displacement as a result of deliberate gentrification does not help to re-establish the viability of a new urban social world. New urbanites face rising housing prices, while the old residents are pushed aside and have to rely on their luck to get by. Residents “resist” the local government’s power because they know the disastrous consequences if they allow the local government to relocate them to the city’s periphery. That means that residents will have to face difficulties not only in being separated from their social contacts in the community, but also in restarting their informal, mostly street vending, businesses, and dealing with the local system of clientelism – such as local organized crime and police (see Arkaraprasertkul 2016a). In Shanghai, the residents will be lucky if such a process does not involve brutality on the part of police or thugs hired by developers.6 Shanghai residents also resist. In the absence of a transparent judicial system and with authoritarian control, however, their impact is minimal. There have been cases of resistance in Shanghai as well as elsewhere. The most popular case that has been studied is the “nail house” (dingzihu) in Chongqing, an emerging megalopolis in central China on the Yangtze River. The nail house’s resident refused to move out from his residence and held on to his land despite the construction that went on around the house, leaving it “sticking out” from the rest of the landscape like a nail amid the cleared land around it. This case, however, does not demonstrate collective resistance; rather, this is about an individual who did not want to give up his rights during a period when his neighbors had agreed to the initial compensation package (which was usually too low for the residents to purchase a new home elsewhere) and moved out. The impact of this case was immense not because of the nail house’s owner’s action, but because of the people who were sympathetic to his extremely difficult situation (Shin 2013; Ho 2013; Erie 2012; Hess 2010). Mr. Yang Wu, the house owner, could not do anything but watch cranes surround and flatten the area around his house. Sympathizers were working together to voice their concern through informal (usually at the margins of Chinese legality) media, such as the Internet and local newspapers. A single picture taken by a cell phone camera went viral over the course of a few minutes, sparking a series of extremely resentful discussions on a national scale overnight. Many claimed that they were all angry simply because “this could happen to anyone.” In many cases corrupt officials and greedy developers worked together to exploit ordinary citizens by using entrepreneurial channels beyond the rule of law. In such cases, private developers buy up a 6 For some well-documented stories on this type of brutality, see Shao (2013).

Housing as Heritage

121

site, gain support from local officials and put pressure on hundreds of local residents to leave without, or with only minimal, compensation. Contrary to what we would think an authoritarian regime might have chosen to do, Chongqing authorities eventually had to compensate all the residents for the loss of their houses, not just the owner of the famous nail house. If, like the political scientist James C. Scott (1985), one could “romanticize” (Abu-Lughod 1990) one’s view toward the resistance of the powerless, how Mr. Yang Wu became a “folk hero” among the ordinary residents (and netizens) only confirms how resistance can push forward the social capacity of Chinese citizenry, although we do not know how many others have tried what Mr. Yang Wu did and failed. The political scientist Richard Baum (2007) calls this kind of resistance a sign of “self-organizing of civil society.” According to Baum, it is a good sign, but he is unclear about how far it can go in helping residents to reobtain their rights. In any case, we can see this as a form of support from the new middle-class residents, who are not necessarily intending to help China build its public sphere of social justice, but who are sympathetic to the situation as they do not want this to happen to them. Gentrification, as the domination of state power over politically weak residents, is no longer far from the consciousness of modern Chinese citizens.

Coda China’s process of urbanization is relentlessly fast, with half of the population of 1.4 billion projected to be moving to the cities in the next couple of decades. It is ironic to see how China is facing a crisis of housing stock oversupply given the large population of the residents who either have no place to live or have been evicted. Indeed, the overbuilt housing stock is for residents of certain social status – namely the new middle class, the horizontal class with collective ties to higher authorities (Zhang 2010). That is, land and housing is taken from ordinary citizens and is reaccumulated for a more economically able middle class (Bristol 2007). Historic preservation is utilized as a way of pushing the undesired – low-income – residents out. One of my informants said to me “in order to be preserved, the area needs to be occupied by “educated people” (you jiaoyu de ren) who understand the value of the heritage.” I never quite understood what he meant by “educated people” but upon returning to Shanghai a few years later I could not find anyone I knew in the neighborhood anymore. What seems likely to be the case is that the “uneducated people” had left. These “educated people” I later found out, were all the “new middle-class” people, whose mentality toward

122 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

urban life is heavily influenced not only by Western ideas and aspirations for modernity, but also a particular gentrified lifestyle. According to the urbanist Jane Jacobs (1961), for a place to be historically important it needs to possess both architectural qualities and human social life. In fact, it is probably the latter that is more important, as it is what distinguishes the place from pastiche, or a theme park. In short, the recuperation of Shanghai’s heritage on the part of the state may seem benign, but in fact, it is a sinister reconstruction of the life of the city in a way that positively constitutes discrimination and violence against the poor through capitalistic means. The “right to the city” (Harvey 2008) has never been so harshly denied.

Acknowledgements In addition to two anonymous reviewers of this book, this chapter greatly benefited from the careful reading of Kevin Beier, Stephen Yiu-Wai Chu, John Crespi, Anatoly Detwyler, Benjamin Elman, Kathleen Goldfarb, James, Erik Harms, Michael Herzfeld, Arthur Kleinman, James Hevia, Melissa Lefkowitz, William Ma, Harsha Menon, Constantine Nakassis, Alex Nelson, Paul James O’Connor, Leo Pang, Paul Rabé, Austin Voltz, Jame L. Watson, and Yiran Xin. Over the course of five years, multiple versions and drafts of this chapter have greatly benefitted from constructive comments I received at conferences and workshops at Brown University, Capital Normal University in Beijing, Center for Metropolitan Studies, Technische Universität Berlin, Columbia University, Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK), Colgate University, Fudan University, Graduate Institute of Building and Planning at National Taiwan University, Goethe University, Hong Kong Museum of History, Hong Kong Baptist University, Institute of Anthropology at National Tsinghua University in Taiwan, Institute of Urban Environment of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, Jagiellonian University, Leiden University, Max Planck Institute for European Legal History in Frankfurt, Melbourne University School of Social and Political Sciences, New York University Shanghai, Princeton University, Royal Asiatic Society Shanghai, Shanghai Jiaotong University, Shanghai University of Finance and Economics, Shanghai University of Science and Technology, University of California at Berkeley, University of Copenhagen and National Museum of Denmark, University of Sydney, University of Warwick, and Zhejiang University. I also want to thank the following colleagues for their feedback: Bradley Butterfield, Jin Chen, Robert Cowherd, Qinqing Chen, Jocelyn Chey, Jeffrey Cody, Jeffrey Dobereiner Ien Eng, Sunil Dubey, Matthew Gutmann, Ron

Housing as Heritage

123

Horvath, Edward Akintola Hubbard, Weijie Hu, Hsuan-Ying Huang, Paul James, Paul Jones, Xiangning Li, Sha Liu, Cameron Logan, Duanfang Lu, Helen McKee, Donald McNiel, Janice Reid, Juan Francisco Salazar, Krishna K. Shrestha, Leslie Sklair, Luigi Tomba, Ming Tong, Qin Shao, Jan Wampler, Emily Whewell, Jieyi Yang, and Xiaomei Zhao. The research leading to this chapter received funding support from the Global Perspectives on Society and Global Postdoctoral Fellowships from New York University Shanghai, the Cora A. Du Bois Charitable Trust Anthropology Research Fellowship, the Fudan University Fellowship, the China Scholarship Council (CSC) Research Scholarship, Harvard Asia Center Dissertation Research Grant for Chinese Studies, Harvard-Yenching Institute Fellowship, and the Visiting Professorship (with the Special Fund from the Rector) at Jagiellonian University. This chapter is dedicated to Congrong “Mickey” Liu for being with me and my naivete through the new and preserved.

References Abu-Lughod, Lila. 1990. “The Romance of Resistance: Tracing Transformations of Power through Bedouin Women.” American Ethnologist 17(1): 41-55. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2007. “Towards Shanghai’s Urban Housing: Re-Defining Shanghai’s Lilong.” Presented at the 6th China Urban Housing Conference, Beijing, China. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2008. “Politicisation and the Rhetoric of Shanghai Urbanism.” Footprint Spring: 43-52. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2009a. Shanghai Contemporary: The Politics of Built Form: How Divergent Planning Methods Transformed Shanghai’s Urban Identity. Saarbrücken: VDM Verlag. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2009b. “Towards Modern Urban Housing: Redef ining Shanghai’s Lilong.” Journal of Urbanism: International Research on Placemaking and Urban Sustainability 2(1): 11-29. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2010a. “Beyond Preservation: Rebuilding Old Shanghai.” Exposition Magazine of the University of Oxford 3 (Hilary Term): 10-18. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2010b. “Leaping beyond Nostalgia: Shanghai’s Urban Life Ethnography.” Newsletter of the International Institute for Asian Studies 55(Autumn/Winter): 28-29. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2010c. “Power, Politics, and the Making of Shanghai.” Journal of Planning History 9(4): 232-259. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2012a. “Moral Global Storytelling: Reflections on Place and Space in Shanghai’s Urban Neighborhoods.” Storytelling, Self, Society 8(3): 167-179.

124 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2012b. “Urbanization and Housing: Socio-Spatial Conflicts over Urban Space in Contemporary Shanghai.” In Aspects of Urbanization in China: Shanghai, Hong Kong, Guangzhou, ed. G. Byrne Bracken. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 139-163. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2013. “Traditionalism as a Way of Life: The Sense of Home in a Shanghai Alleyway.” Harvard Asia Quarterly 15(3/4): 15-25. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2016a. “The Abrupt Rise (and Fall) of Creative Entrepreneurs: Globalization, Creative Economy, and Structural Inequality among Old Residents and New Renters in Urban Shanghai.” In Protest and Resistance in the Tourist City, ed. Johannes Novy and Claire Colomb. London: Routledge, 282-301. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2016b. “Gentrification from Within: Urban Social Change as Anthropological Process.” Asian Anthropology 16(1): 1-20. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2016c. “Locating Shanghai: Globalization, Heritage Industry, and the Political Economy of Urban Space in a Chinese Metropolis.” PhD diss., Harvard University. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2018a. “Gentrification and Its Contentment: An Anthropological Perspective on Housing, Heritage and Urban Social Change in Shanghai.” Urban Studies 55(7): 1561-1578. Arkaraprasertkul, Non. 2018b. “Gentrifying Heritage: How Historic Preservation Drives Gentrification in Urban Shanghai.” International Journal of Heritage Studies. DOI: 10.1080/13527258.2018.1460732. Bao, Haiyu. 2000. “High-rise Housing Development in Shanghai since 1972.” MQ70571, MArch thesis, McGill University. Baum, Richard. 2007. “The Political Impact of China’s Information Revolution.” Presented at the US-China Institute, University of Southern California, 20 September. Bergère, Marie-Claire. 2009. Shanghai: China’s Gateway to Modernity, trans. Janet Lloyd. Palo Alto: Stanford University Press. Bestor, Theodore C. 1989. Neighborhood Tokyo. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Bracken, Gregory. 2013. The Shanghai Alleyway House. New York: Routledge. Bristol, Graeme. 2007. “Strategies for Survival: Security of Tenure in Bangkok.” Case study prepared for Enhancing Urban Safety and Security: Global Report on Human Settlements 2007. https://unhabitat.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/5403_7323_ GRHS.2007.CaseStudy.Tenure.Thailand.pdf. Bugatti, Angelo, and Shiling Zheng. 2006. Expo 2010 Shanghai: Landscape Renewal. Milano: Libreria CLUP. Chang, TC. 2016. “‘New Uses Need Old Buildings’: Gentrification Aesthetics and the Arts in Singapore.” Urban Studies 53(3): 524-539. Chen, Xiangming. 2009. Shanghai Rising: State Power and Local Transformations in a Global Megacity. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Housing as Heritage

125

Cialdini, Robert B. 2009. Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion. New York: Collins. De Kloet, Jeroen, and Lena Scheen. 2013. “Pudong: The Shanzhai Global City.” European Journal of Cultural Studies 16(6): 692-709. Den Hartog, Harry, ed. 2010. Shanghai New Towns: Searching for Community and Identity in a Sprawling Metropolis. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers. Development Research Center. 2014. “The First World Cities Day of the United Nations: Global City Forum Thesis Intercommunication 2014.” Shanghai: Shanghai Municipal People’s Government. Doctoroff, Tom. 2009. “Life in the ‘Lilong’: My Shanghai Lane House Adventure.” Huffington Post, 9 March. Dwyer, D.J. 1986. “Urban Housing and Planning in China.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 11(4): 479-489. Erie, Matthew S. 2012. “Property Rights, Legal Consciousness and the New Media in China: The Hard Case of the ‘Toughest Nail-House in History.’” China Information 26(1): 35-59. Esposito, Adèle, Joshua Chan, Ian Dull, Giulia Di Pietro, Sara Guagnini, Abby Hsian-huan Huang, Isaura van Den Berg, and Rita Wittek. 2014. “Heritage beyond the Boundaries: A Manifesto.” Newsletter of the International Institute for Asian Studies 69: 22-23. Fernsebner, Susan R. 2010. “Expo 2010: A Historical Perspective.” Journal of Asian Studies 69(3): 669-676. Fong, Peter K.W. 1989. “Housing Reforms in China.” Habitat International 13(4): 29-41. Geleigeli, Bulaken [格雷戈里-布拉肯]. 2015. 上海里弄房 [Shanghai’s lilong], ed. Xian Sun and Zhimin Su. Shanghai: Shanghai Social Sciences Press. Glaeser, Edward L. 2011. Triumph of the City: How Our Greatest Invention Makes Us Richer, Smarter, Greener, Healthier, and Happier. New York: Penguin. Guan, Qian. 1996. “Lilong Housing: A Traditional Settlement Form.” MArch thesis, McGill University. Harvey, David. 2005. A Brief History of Neoliberalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Harvey, David. 2008. “The Right to the City.” New Left Review 253: 23-40. Herzfeld, Michael. 2004. The Body Impolitic: Artisans and Artifice in the Global Hierarchy of Value, Artisans and Artifice in the Global Hierarchy of Value. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Hess, S. 2010. “Nail-Houses, Land Rights, and Frames of Injustice on China’s Protest Landscape.” Asian Survey 50(5): 908-926. Ho, Cheuk Yuet. 2013. “Exit, or Evict: Re-grounding Rights in Needs in China’s Urban Housing Demolition.” Asian Anthropology 12(2): 141-155. Jacobs, Jane. 1961. The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York: Vintage.. Johnson, Linda Cooke. 1995. Shanghai: From Market Town to Treaty Port, 1074-1858. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

126 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

Jou, Sue-Ching, Eric Clark, and Hsiao-Wei Chen. 2016. “Gentrification and Revanchist Urbanism in Taipei?” Urban Studies 53(3): 560-576. Kim, Joochul. 1987. “China’s Current Housing Issues and Policies.” Journal of the American Planning Association 53(2): 220-226. La Grange, Adrienne, and Frederik Pretorius. 2016. “State-Led Gentrification in Hong Kong.” Urban Studies 53(3): 506-523. Larmer, Brook. 2010. “Shanghai Dreams: China’s Global City Tries to Recapture the Glories of Its Past – This Time on Its Own Terms.” National Geographic 217: 124-141. Lee, Yok-shiu F. 1988. “The Urban Housing Problem in China.” China Quarterly 115: 387-407. Leighton, Christopher Russell. 2010. “Capitalists, Cadres, and Culture in 1950s China.” PhD diss., Harvard University. Liang, Samuel Y. 2008. “Where the Courtyard Meets the Street: Spatial Culture of the Li Neighborhoods, Shanghai, 1870-1900.” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 67(4): 482-503. Lieberthal, Kenneth. 1995. Governing China: From Revolution through Reform. New York: Norton. Lim, Louisa. 2006. “Shanghai Architecture Reflects City’s Many Faces.” NPR News, 11 December. Liu, Ran. 2015. Spatial Mobility of Migrant Workers in Beijing, China. New York: Springer International. Logan, John R. 2018. “People and Plans in Urbanising China: Challenging the Top-down Orthodoxy.” Urban Studies 55(7): 1375-1382. Lu, Junhua, Peter G. Rowe, and Jie Zhang, eds. 2001. Modern Urban Housing in China 1840-2000. Munich: Prestel. Luo, Shanshan [罗珊珊], and Jian Zhang [张健]. 2007. “上海里弄住宅的演变 [The development of the lilong in Shanghai].” 华中建筑 [Huazhong architecture] 25(4): 113-115. Ma, Laurence J.C. 1981. “Urban Housing Supply in the People’s Republic of China.” In Urban Development in Modern China, ed. Laurence J. C. Ma and Edward W. Hanten. Boulder: Westview Press, 222-259. Marx, Karl. 1990. Capital, ed. Edward B. Aveling, Friedrich Engels, and Samuel Moore, 2nd Ed. Chicago: Encyclopædia Britannica. Mo, Tianwei [莫天伟], and Di Lu [陆地]. 2000. “再生上海里弄形态开发性保护 新天地 [Regeneration of a Shanghai lilong to develop and protect Xintiandi].” Time + Architecture 3(12): 40-42. Morris, D. Louise. 1994. “Community or Commodity? A Study of Lilong Housing in Shanghai.” MA thesis, University of British Columbia.

Housing as Heritage

127

Olds, Kris. 1997. “Globalizing Shanghai: the ‘Global Intelligence Corps’ and the Building of Pudong.” Cities 14(2): 109-123. Ong, Lynette H. 2014. “State-Led Urbanization in China: Skyscrapers, Land Revenue and ‘Concentrated Villages.’” China Quarterly 217: 162-179. Pellow, Deborah. 1993. “No Place to Live, No Place to Love: Coping in Shanghai.” In Urban Anthropology in China, ed. Gregory Eliyu Guldin and Aidan Southall. Leiden: Brill, 396-424. Peng, Ruijue. 1986. “Towards a New Housing Approach: Analysis of Settlement Environment and Housing Policy in Shanghai, China.” MS thesis, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Rapson, Ralph. 1982. Housing China’s Future: A Metropolitan Study. Minneapolis: School of Architecture and Landscape Architecture, University of Minnesota. Ren, Xuefei. 2008. “Forward to the Past: Historical Preservation in Globalizing Shanghai.” City & Community 7(1): 23-43. Scott, James C. 1985. Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. New Haven: Yale University Press. Shao, Qin. 2013. Shanghai Gone: Domicide and Defiance in a Chinese Megacity. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield. Shao, Yong [邵甬], and Yisan Ruan [阮仪三]. 2002. “关于历史文化遗产保护的 法制建设 [Evolution and character of the Historical and Culture Heritage Preservation Law in France].” 城市规划汇刊 [Urban planning forum] 3: 57-66. Shao, Yong, and Yisan Ruan. 2003. “The Urban Heritage Conservation in the Market Economy Background – The Conservation Planning of Sinan Road Garden Residential Quarters, Luwan District, Shanghai.” Urban Planning Forum 2. Shin, Hyun Bang. 2013. “The Right to the City and Critical Reflections on China’s Property Rights Activism.” Antipode 45(5): 1167-1189. Shin, Hyun Bang, Loretta Lees, and Ernesto López-Morales. 2016. “Introduction: Locating Gentrification in the Global East.” Urban Studies 53(3): 455-470. Smart, Alan. 2018. “Ethnographic Perspectives on the Mediation of Informality between People and Plans in Urbanising China.” Urban Studies 7: 1477-1483. Thaler, Richard. 2015. The Making of Behavioral Economics: Misbehaving. New York: W.W. Norton and Co. Thompson, Michael. 1979. Rubbish Theory: The Creation and Destruction of Value. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Tomba, Luigi. 2014. The Government Next Door: Neighborhood Politics in Urban China. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Tomba, Luigi. 2017. “Gentrifying China’s Urbanization? Why Culture and Capital Aren’t Enough.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 41(3): 508-517.

128 Non Ark ar apr asertkul

Urban Land Institute. 2014. “Ten Principles for Urban Regeneration: Making Shanghai a Better City.” Urban Land Institute. Wai, Albert Wing Tai. 2006. “Place Promotion and Iconography in Shanghai’s Xintiandi.” Habitat International 30(2): 245-260. Wang, Shaozhou [王绍周], and Zhimin Chen [陈志敏]. 1987. 里弄建筑 [Lilong Architecture]. Shanghai: Shanghai Scientific and Technical Publisher. Warr, Anne. 2009. “Paradox and Complexity in Shanghai’s Twentieth Century Architecture.” Presented at the ICOMOS (Un) Loved Modern Conference, Sydney, 7-10 July. Wasserstrom, Jeffrey N. 2009. Global Shanghai, 1850-2010: A History in Fragments. London: Routledge. Wu, Fulong. 2017. “Planning Centrality, Market Instruments: Governing Chinese Urban Transformation under State Entrepreneurialism.” Urban Studies 55(7): 1383-1399. Wu, Fulong, and Shenjing He. 2005. “Property-Led Redevelopment in Post-Reform China: A Case Study of Xintiandi Redevelopment Project in Shanghai.” Journal of Urban Affairs 27(1): 1-23. Wu, Liangyong. 1999. Rehabilitating the Old City of Beijing: A Project in the Ju’er Hutong Neighbourhood. Vancouver: UBC Press. Wu, Weiping. 2013. The Chinese City, ed. Piper Rae Gaubatz. Abingdon: Routledge. Yager, Greg, and Scott Kilbourn. 2004. “Lessons from Shanghai Xintiandi: China’s Retail Success Story.” Urban Land Asia (December): 34-37. Yang, Jian. 2013. “Shikumen Pledged Extra Protection after Readers Offer City Suggestions.” Shanghai Daily, 25 August 2014, A4, Metro. Yang, Zan, and Jie Chen. 2014. Housing Affordability and Housing Policy in Urban China. Heidelberg: Springer Verlag. Yu, Hai, Xiangming Chen, and Xiaohua Zhong. 2015. “Commercial Development from Below: The Resilience of Local Shops in Shanghai.” In Global Cities, Local Streets: Everyday Diversity from New York to Shanghai, ed. Sharon Zukin, Philip Kasinitz, and Xiangming Chen. Florence: Taylor & Francis, 59-89. Zhang, Chenjie [张晨杰]. 2015. “基于遗产角度的上海里弄建筑现状空间研究 [Research on Shanghai lilong spaces from a heritage perspective].” 城市规划 学刊 [Urban planning forum] 4: 111-118. Zhang, Li. 2010. In Search of Paradise: Middle-Class living in a Chinese Metropolis, Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Zhang, Yan, and Ke Fang. 2003. “Politics of Housing Redevelopment in China: The Rise and Fall of the Ju’er Hutong project in Inner-city Beijing.” Journal of Housing and the Built Environment 18(1): 75-87. Zhong, Xiaohua, and Xiangming Chen. 2017. “Demolition, Rehabilitation, and Conservation: Heritage in Shanghai’s Urban Regeneration, 1990-2015.” Journal of Architecture and Urbanism 41(2): 82-91.

Housing as Heritage

129

Biography Dr. Non Arkaraprasertkul researches urban problems in Asian cities through the lenses of design and social science. As an expert in humancentered design, he directs the Bangkok-based Anti-Fragile Social Design + Consultancy (AFSD +C), an independent and interdisciplinary design research consultancy focusing on using participatory research methods (such as design thinking) to create positive social impact for businesses and public institutions. He received master’s degrees in architecture from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and modern Chinese studies from the University of Oxford. His doctorate in anthropology is from Harvard University. Also serving as a mentor for the Social Psychology Network (SPN), Dr. Arkaraprasertkul continues to explore the nexus between academic discipline and the best professional practice.

6

Not an Act of God Lessons from a Disaster in the Settlements Planning of a River City Carmeli Marie C. Chaves Abstract Urbanizing coastal cities nestled in a fragile watershed constantly face the challenge of flooding. The experience of Cagayan de Oro City in the Philippines in the wake of Tropical Storm Sendong in 2011 showed that adverse flooding impacts are magnif ied when dense settlements are formed in flood hazard areas. Sendong affected 40,000 families in 41 villages, claimed 750 lives, and changed the riverscape. Learning from the disaster, Cagayan de Oro vowed to build a resilient city by mainstreaming disaster risk reduction in land use planning, regulating the use of upstream and downstream areas of rivers, and rehabilitating man-made and natural drainage systems. Moreover, it rationalized settlements distribution and density through zoning and started relocating communities away from waterways and floodplains. Keywords: disaster-resilient settlements, disaster risk reduction and management, land use planning, urbanization, Cagayan de Oro City, Sendong

This research presents lessons in building disaster-resilient settlements generated from the experience of Cagayan de Oro City, in Mindanao, the Philippines after Tropical Storm Sendong (international name: Washi) swept through the city, affected more than 40,000 families in 41 barangays (villages), claimed 750 lives, wiped away houses, and changed the riverscape. The lessons learned center on midterm and long-term planning and policy measures relevant to a rapidly urbanizing city nestled in the middle of a fragile watershed. Local governments in the Philippines find that their settlements are vulnerable to natural disasters, but often belatedly, that is,

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch06

132 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

postdisaster. For a city such as Cagayan de Oro, which has rarely experienced such events for generations, Sendong was an eye-opener in many ways. For a highly urbanized city that has a river running through its center, planning a resilient settlement involved integrating the lessons from Sendong.

Research methodology In addition to a historical review of the development of Cagayan de Oro City, an analysis was made of the local policies and regulations related to settlements and environment planning, including the city’s comprehensive land use plan, comprehensive development plan, and disaster risk-reduction and management plan. Key informant interviews were conducted with the city planning and development officer, city engineer, city environment and natural resources officer, and long-time residents of Cagayan de Oro. Visits to the city, which is also the author’s hometown, were made immediately after Sendong struck, providing a firsthand observation of the events that shook the population and made the government rethink its land use and settlements planning. Four focus group discussions were conducted among Sendong survivors in Balulang and Macasandig villages. The questions covered their residential history, sources of income, survival of the flood, and preparedness for disasters.

Framework on building the disaster resilience of cities The analysis was done in consideration of the Hyogo Framework for Action 2005‐2015: Building the Resilience of Nations and Communities to Disasters. The framework highlights the role of local governments in integrating “disaster risk assessments into the urban planning and management of disaster‐prone human settlements, in particular highly populated areas and quickly urbanizing settlements” (UNISDR 2007, 12). The study examines the long-standing development issue of urban populations and their location in danger areas, a major element in the Hyogo Framework for Action of 2005, and which features also in discussions on the vulnerability of populations to climate change (IPCC 2001). The Philippines signed its commitment to the Hyogo Framework to reduce disaster risks by 2015. For the Cagayan de Oro government, the overall rehabilitation and recovery agenda in the aftermath of Tropical Storm Sendong was done according to the principle of building more resilient settlements.

Not an Ac t of God

133

Settlements in the Philippines, which is an archipelago, have been built close to bodies of water, especially the seas, rivers, and lakes. Many cities were established along major rivers, at deltas, and along bays. Cagayan de Oro is similar to river cities in the Philippines such as Pasig, Marikina, Pampanga, Iloilo, Tuguegarao, Butuan, Surigao, and Valencia cities in this respect. In recent years, many of these towns have experienced flooding caused by excessive rain. The urban residents of Mindanao were particularly surprised by the flooding events, because historically, flooding has never posed a problem to them in typhoon-free Mindanao. The location and geologic characteristics of the Philippines make it susceptible to flooding as a geohazard. Globally, the Philippines is considered a high risk natural disaster hotspot. The World Bank ranks the Philippines fourth among countries exposed to three or more natural hazards, with 45.6% of its total land area at risk, and 72.6% of its population in areas at risk (World Bank 2005, 8). The World Bank report also names the Philippines as one of the world’s flood-prone countries (ibid. 43).

Urban development of Cagayan de Oro City Of all the cities in Mindanao Island, Cagayan de Oro City grew the fastest between 1990 and 2010. Its population growth rate in 1990-1995 was 4.44%, and in 2000-2010, this slowed to 2.69%, but this rate was still higher than the regional or national averages (National Statistics Office 2010). Assuming this growth rate prevails, the city is expected to double its population in only thirteen years. The growth in the city was largely propelled by rapid in-migration to this vibrant center of education, commerce, manufacturing, services, and governance in the Northern Mindanao region. The 2010 census counts the population of Cagayan de Oro at 602,088. Of this, 555,605 persons (or 92.28%) reside in 63 urban barangays, and 46,483 persons (7.72%) live in 17 rural barangays. If one looks at the entire city area, however, urban villages comprise only 34% of the total city land area of 578.51 km2. This means that more than 92% of city residents live in only a third of the land area. It appears that settlements converge in the more urbanized barangays of the city, or those with quick access to urban employment and services. The rapid demographic and urban growth of Cagayan de Oro in the last fifteen years was accompanied by changes in its land use. Forest and agricultural areas were bulldozed and cemented to make way for residential and commercial projects. The landscape of the city was transformed into a

134 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

highly urbanized area sprawling from the central business district. Residential subdivisions were built on hills overlooking the city, and commercial districts thrived along the national highway. The emerging settlement pattern in Cagayan de Oro is that of a highly developed urban core which sprawls to the next ring of barangays that are no longer in the city center but are still connected to it: these emerging villages are Lumbia, Balulang, Macasandig, Bulua, Bayabas, Kauswagan, Bonbon, Tablon, Indahag, Balubal, and Puerto. The city is characterized by a lopsided distribution of settlements favoring a few villages. In spite of the urban expansion, the dominant land uses in Cagayan de Oro City are forest land, comprising 45% of the total land area, and agricultural land, at 28% of the total land (City Government of Cagayan de Oro 2013). Built-up areas, including those for residential use, are concentrated near the major roads. Agricultural lands, forestlands and open spaces remain in the hinterland barangays of the city. Among these are the rural villages of Besigan, Tignapoloan, Dansolihon, Mambuaya, Bayanga, and Tagpangi. These are sizeable areas, but are sparsely populated. The population density in Cagayan de Oro City is only 1231 persons per square kilometer, which is low compared to the density of other Philippine cities, especially Metro Manila, which is teeming with residents at 19,137 persons per square kilometer. With most residents preferring the urban areas of Cagayan de Oro, the population density is expectedly higher in the urban barangays of the city, at 2813 persons per square kilometer.

A river city A 69,518-meter-long river runs through the heart of Cagayan de Oro City. Cagayan de Oro takes its name from “Kagay-an,” which is believed to have originated from a Proto-Philippine word reconstructed as *kaRayan which means “river” (Lawrence A. Reid, cited in Elizaga 2002). Cagayan River is a central feature in the city landscape, touching 11 of the 80 villages of the city. It meanders through the center before draining into Macajalar Bay. The river is an important landmark of Cagayan de Oro, valued for its view, and considered an important resource by the locals. It is used for livelihood, transportation, and tourism. Cagayan de Oro planners identified Cagayan River as a tourism development area suitable for the operation of floating restaurants, river cruises, white water rafting, and tubing. The city tourism office, in fact, features whitewater rafting along Cagayan River as a banner adventure tourism activity.

Not an Ac t of God

135

Figure 6.1 Map of (A) The Philippines, and (B) Cagayan de Oro City

Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

Cagayan River goes through the built-up areas of Cagayan de Oro, creating vibrant commerce on its riverbanks and generating livelihood opportunities for dwellers, mainly in trade and services. The headwaters of the Cagayan River originate in the mountains south of the city, in the rural barangays, and reach as far south as Lanao del Norte and Bukidnon provinces. This is

136 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

Figure 6.2 Cagayan River

Source: Elpidio Paras Cagayan River lies at the very heart of the city, an important resource for farming, commerce and tourism. Its headwaters originate in the mountain villages south of the city, where activities such as logging and illegal mining are unseen by residents in the bustling downtown areas that have sprawled on both banks of the river

not very obvious to urban dwellers and to visitors, as the face of Cagayan de Oro has always been the central business district and the commercial and residential areas that have developed in the urban core. There are seven rivers, in fact, traversing Cagayan de Oro: Cagayan River, Iponan River, Bigaan River, Cugman River, Umalag River, Agusan River, and Alae River. Between Iponan and Cagayan rivers is an extensive river floodplain that extends from the center and joins the tidal flats near Macajalar Bay. Over time, this wide floodplain became the site of settlements. However, the river floodplain is an area acknowledged by city planners as “susceptible to brief flooding during extraordinary rainfall events” (City Government of Cagayan de Oro 2013, 51). The Cagayan de Oro watershed, like many others in the country, extends beyond the boundaries of the city. The watershed covers forest areas in the upland villages of Besigan, Tignapoloan, Bayanga, Mambuaya, Dansolihon,

Not an Ac t of God

137

Tumpagon, Pigsag-an, Tuburan, Taglimao, Tagpangi, Pagalungan, Baikingon, San Simon, Cugman, Tablon, and F.S. Catanico. Residents of these villages are engaged in forestry protection and production activities, particularly community-based forestry management and co-management of forest areas with the Department of Environment and Natural Resources. Smallscale mining activities, mainly copper and iron ore mining, occur in these highlands. Some of these domains are claimed by indigenous peoples. For a long time, residents of Cagayan de Oro were oblivious to the upstream activities and conditions of the river and its headwaters. The river had presented no environmental problem so far, and the Northern Mindanao region, as far as they knew, was not exposed to tropical storms or climate-related hazards. In fact, Cagayan de Oro was advertised as an ideal investment location in Mindanao and in the Philippines because of its typhoon-free climate (City Government of Cagayan de Oro 2000). Neither the local government nor the residents realized the vulnerability of the city until Sendong struck. They had a faint idea of how the popular tourist attraction that is Cagayan River could be a hazard affecting them in a major way, and how ill-prepared the population was for a disaster.

How the city became vulnerable The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) defines vulnerability as “the extent to which a natural or social system is susceptible to sustaining damage from climate change” (IPCC 2001, 89). The IPPC states that vulnerability is a function of exposure, sensitivity, and adaptive capacity. Vulnerability to climate change impacts increases with exposure and sensitivity, but this can be offset by a higher adaptive capacity (IPCC 2001). The location of Cagayan de Oro City in Northern Mindanao, a historically typhoon-free region, used to be its vaunted advantage. Compared to the Luzon and Visayas island groups, Mindanao was an exciting frontier for immigrants attracted to its vast, fertile agricultural land and its hospitable climate. The picture has changed, however, in recent years. While Mindanao remains generally out of the way of tropical cyclones, it is likelier to experience extreme climate events (Manila Observatory 2011). Tropical Storm Sendong was considered an extreme rainfall event that “proved to be disastrous given the present complexities of exposure and vulnerability dynamics” (ibid. 17). It had been raining heavily in the evening of 16 December 2011. The amount of rain that fell on the city was greater than normal: 180 mm of rainfall in

138 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

one day, much higher than the 117 mm that the city received on average in a month since 1977 (Manila Observatory 2011). Moreover, this was the highest one-day amount of rainfall recorded in the city from 1977 to 2005 (ibid.). The most severe effect of the excessive rain brought about by Sendong was the flash flood, which struck at 2 a.m. on 17 December 2011. The Cagayan River was the locus of this flash flood. The national weather service agency, the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration (PAGASA, which is also a Filipino word that means “hope”), was certainly not remiss in raising public storm warning signals to residents. In the morning of 16 December, PAGASA issued storm signal no. 2 in Misamis Oriental Province, of which Cagayan de Oro City is part, as well as in the nearby provinces of Camiguin, Bukidnon, Lanao del Norte, and Misamis Occidental. Signal no. 2 meant that a “tropical cyclone will affect the locality,” and “winds of greater than 60 kilometers per hour and up to 100 kilometers per hour may be expected in at least 24 hours” (PAGASA 2015). With this signal, the general public was exhorted to take precautionary measures when at sea or in coastal waters, postpone outdoor activities, and secure properties. Disaster preparedness units were expected to alert communities about the impending storm (PAGASA 2015). Apparently, this warning went unheeded. According to Cagayan de Oro residents, they failed to take any action because they “did not understand what the advisories meant” and they were complacent about natural disasters in Northern Mindanao, certain that no major flood will affect the region (FGD 2014a). There was also the question of the entities responsible for relaying the information to village residents. Apparently city agencies and village leaders failed to warn households, at least according to flooding victims, who had no access to reliable and timely weather information (FGD 2014a). The confluence of events and circumstances made Sendong the so-called perfect storm: an extreme rain event in a city settled along a major river, wreaking havoc on an ill-prepared population, and challenging a local government with a false sense of invulnerability. There was also the element of surprise. The flash flood triggered by Sendong swept through the riverside villages when most of the population was sleeping. There was little they could do to deal with the rampaging waters, which had risen abruptly and entered their houses. According to survivors, the floodwaters engulfed houses within 30 minutes (FGD 2014b). What made it surreal was that it was not really just water that bore down on them; the water seemed “like lahar” (FGD 2014b), carrying mud, logs, debris, snakes, and torn shanties along with it.

Not an Ac t of God

139

The storm waters inundated villages along the Cagayan and Iponan Rivers, especially Macasandig, Iponan, Balulang, Bonbon, Kauswagan, Macabalan, Carmen, and Consolacion. River islets such as Isla Delta 2 and Isla Bugnaw of Consolacion village, Isla de Oro of Barangay 13, and Isla Delta 1 of Barangay 17 were completely submerged (Regional Development Council-X 2012). In the entire city, the muddy water flooded more than 2000 hectares, not just along the path of the Cagayan River, but also across the flood plains, where most of the settlements were located. What made Cagayan de Oro vulnerable was the high exposure of its population to a flooding risk. Sendong took 1495 lives and injured 1965 persons in Cagayan de Oro and Iligan cities (Regional Development Council-X 2012). The main cause of death was drowning in the silt-ridden floodwaters that carried debris and logs. A survivor described the devastation as “like the end of the world” (FGD 2014c). Bodies, many of children, were strewn in the muddy streets. Dazed residents looked for missing family members and stared in disbelief at their shattered houses. Sendong also damaged lifeline infrastructure such as water supply and distribution systems, and downed electric power transmission lines and telecommunications networks. The major roads were rendered impassable. Flood control structures, particularly the river dikes in Carmen, Kauswagan and Bonbon villages and the seawall in Macabalan, were breached. Several days after the flood, many roads and bridges were in disrepair, and even the airport and seaport were inoperable. On 20 December, the two highly urbanized cities of Cagayan de Oro and Iligan were declared by President Benigno Aquino III to be under a state of calamity. The president also issued a directive declaring six permanent danger areas along Cagayan River and prohibiting residents from returning to these zones. These so called no-return, no-build zones were Sitio Kala-Kala and Sitio Tambo in Macasandig, Isla de Oro in Barangay 13, Isla Bugnaw and Isla Delta 2 in Barangay Consolation, and Isla Delta 1 in Barangay 17. The geohazard maps from the Cagayan de Oro City Local Environment and Natural Resources Office showed that the rolling to moderately steep areas in the Cagayan de Oro River watershed and the Iponan River watershed were susceptible to landslides, while the river and coastal floodplains, where the vast majority of households reside, were prone to flooding. The Mines and Geosciences Bureau in Northern Mindanao pointed out that 72 of the 80 barangays of Cagayan de Oro City were susceptible to flooding (Mines and Geosciences Bureau, as cited in City Government of Cagayan de Oro 2013). The 42 villages engulfed by Sendong and the ensuing flash flood were located in these susceptible areas.

140 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

Not an act of God or nature Today, the city government, national government agencies, and communities agree that Tropical Storm Sendong and the devastation it wrought were caused by human activities and shortcomings. In addition to the general “complacency and false sense of security” regarding flooding in a rarely inundated region (Regional Development Council-X 2012), there was a dismal lack of spatial planning or foresight. Permanent structures were allowed in the easement of rivers, and settlements spread in floodplains, mangrove areas, waterways, and geologically unstable areas, especially sandbars and river islets. In villages that were frequently flooded, such as the low-lying areas near Macajalar Bay and the barangays along Cagayan de Oro and Iponan rivers, no flood warning system had been installed. Poor land use planning and weak implementation of environmental regulations is manifest in the densely populated, geohazard areas of the city. Permanent residential and commercial structures were allowed within the 20-meter easement on both sides of the Cagayan River, with tragic consequences. The city government was warned in 2009 by the Department of Environment and Natural Resources of the unstable nature of the river islets, deeming them unsafe for habitation. The department subsequently recommended the relocation of residents in the islets of Cala-cala, Biasong, Upper Balulang, and portions of Tibasak and Consolacion villages. Households occupying Isla de Oro, an accretionary islet at the mouth of the Cagayan River with a high risk of flooding, were exhorted to transfer to safer places. This advice was ignored by city leaders as well as by the affected residents. At the time of the Sendong flash flood, Isla de Oro was home to 500 families, or 7000 persons, whose dwellings were completely wiped out (Regional Development Council-X 2012). Allowing built-up areas in river and coastal floodplains would not have been disastrous had there been an effective city drainage system. That was not the case. Creeks such as Binono-an, Bitan-ag, Indulong, Kolambog, Sapong, and Umalag were paved over for residential and commercial projects. The demands of rapid urbanization and economic upswing were met by indiscriminate construction of structures over waterways. Storm water had to find its way to Macajalar Bay through residential subdivisions, sometimes inundating them. Flooding in the city was worsened by drainage canals and creeks that were clogged from trash and debris. While relocating settlements from floodplains is a long-term measure, there are specific, doable public works that city engineers can initiate, such as fixing a deficient city drainage

Not an Ac t of God

141

system, including the rehabilitation of the clogged and underdesigned drainage canals. As of April 2017, Cagayan de Oro had no city-wide drainage master plan, not even after the traumatic flooding event that was Sendong in 2011. It must be said that the drainage plan should consider the entire river basin, encompassing the creeks and rivers traversing the city and draining into Macajalar Bay. Both the man-made and natural drainage systems are important. While city engineers can replan and rehabilitate the drainage system in the short-term, the management and protection of the watersheds and the natural drainage system need to be done as well. Human activities, unfortunately, have degraded the watersheds and drainage basins. Deforestation and logging have resulted in eroded upland areas, particularly in the rural villages of Besigan, Tignapoloan, Dansolihon, Mambuaya, Bayanga, and Tagpangi. Logging, mining, and clearing of the soil for cash crop production in these hinterland areas have reduced the water absorptive capacity of the soil, triggering erosion and rapid surface water runoff. The erosion eventually led to the sedimentation in the Cagayan and Iponan rivers. Heavily silted rivers make for clogged natural drainage channels, unlikely to control storm water. Human inaction to warnings contributed to the vulnerability of the Cagayan de Oro population. In September 2011, just three months before Sendong, the regional director of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources alerted the Cagayan de Oro mayor of “stronger typhoons between September and December likely to bring about heavy precipitation with possible adverse impact on local population and private and public infrastructure” (Montalvan 2012). The public was directed to be vigilant and to take precautionary measures for possible landslides and floods. Most households did nothing, subsequently learning painful lessons from a disaster.

Lessons learned from Cagayan de Oro in creating resilient settlements Sendong did what DENR and PAGASA have been trying to do for years: it heightened people’s awareness about disasters and increased their vigilance. Cagayan de Oro, a highly urbanized city and regional capital of Northern Mindanao, a city that prides itself on its hospitable climate, was brought to its knees by a single flooding event. All sectors saw the need to reduce and manage disaster risks, especially flooding, and to build a resilient city.

142 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

In the last few years, legislation has been enacted at the country level to address disaster risk-reduction issues, especially in the light of another destructive flooding brought about by Tropical Storm Ondoy (international name: Ketsana), which paralyzed cities in Metro Manila in 2009. This hastened the enactment of Republic Act 10121, or the Philippine Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Act of 2010. The law requires compliance at all levels of governance, especially local government units, to build disaster resilience. Cities and municipalities are mandated to establish Local Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Offices manned by trained personnel. A year later, in 2011, the National Climate Change Action Plan was completed. The plan supports Republic Act 9729, or the Climate Change Act of 2009, and proposes a set of actions that “enhances adaptive capacity and resilience of communities and natural ecosystems to climate change” (Climate Change Commission 2010, 5). Local governments are at the forefront of executing these actions. In the case of Cagayan de Oro, as in many local governments in the Philippines, the mayor had to strike a careful balance between implementing a national directive with long-term impacts and addressing the short-term needs of constituents. The resettlement of households in declared danger areas or no-build zones is a case in point. The Water Code of the Philippines requires a three-meter easement for public use on both sides of a riverbank in an urban area (Republic of the Philippines 1976). No human habitation or construction of any structure is permitted in these easements, except bank-protection structures or walkways in case the easement is developed into a public park or promenade. City leaders will have to resettle households currently living in these no-build zones. Moreover, President Benigno Aquino III made a public pronouncement in 2013 declaring areas 40 meters from the highest tidemark of coastal and river areas “no-build” or “no-dwelling” zones. This came after the Philippines was buffeted in 2013 by Super Typhoon Yolanda (international name: Haiyan), the strongest and deadliest tropical cyclone on record to hit the Philippines. Filipinos are used to experiencing an average of 20 typhoons a year, but they never expected the magnitude of the force of Yolanda. Ondoy in 2009, Sendong in 2011, and Yolanda in 2013 were wake-up calls to a nation that previously assumed that their climate change adaptation and disaster risk-reduction practices were enough. Philippine cities and municipalities are directed by the national government to resettle households occupying geohazard areas, no-build zones, no-dwelling zones, and river and coastal easements. It takes strong political will by the mayor to enforce these regulations, as the majority of the affected residents are resistant to resettlement.

Not an Ac t of God

143

Six months after Sendong, in May 2012, a new mayor was elected by Cagayan de Oro voters who were frustrated by the ineptitude of the previous administration. The city drew up a risk and vulnerability profile and delineated danger areas, but it remains to be a “test of leadership and good governance” (Regional Development Council-X 2012, 78) for the current leadership to enforce regulations prohibiting settlements in the no-build zones of Sitio Cala-cala, Isla Delta 1, Isla Delta 2, Isla de Oro, Isla Baksan, Isla Bugnao, and Tambo in Macasandig village. The government has pointed out that there is no security of tenure for households in the islets, which were really sandbars, and these were not classified as alienable and disposable lands. It remains a politically sensitive issue to those tasked with implementing a difficult national regulation to implement it on the ground. Even with President Aquino’s directive on prohibiting any kind of structure in the permanent danger areas in Cagayan de Oro, there is yet no local legislation to support this pronouncement. The local chief executive, however, has instructed the planning office to delineate these no-build zones in the zoning ordinance, which was enacted by the city legislative council in 2014. How does one build resilient communities? Six years after Cagayan de Oro was wrecked by Tropical Storm Sendong in 2011, residents are gradually picking up from the ruins. City planners are rethinking the direction that Cagayan de Oro is taking, and are drumming up strategies to attain resilient urban development.

Mainstream disaster risk reduction in land use planning The new city government took the lead in formulating an integrated response in disaster risk reduction, involving other local government units as well as the private sector and civil society organizations. It mobilized the Local Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Council, which conducted a physical assessment of existing critical infrastructure. The council also prepared a flooding contingency plan and created information materials on disaster preparedness. Strategies on disaster risk reduction and management (DRRM) and climate change adaptation (CCA) were mainstreamed in the comprehensive development plan and in the comprehensive land use plan, both required of all cities and municipalities in the Philippines (Republic of the Philippines 1991). The City Planning and Development Office applied DRRM and CCA tools in identifying zones in Cagayan de Oro that would be protected, areas that would be used for production, areas for settlement, and areas where infrastructure could be built.

144 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

Building resilient communities started with a vulnerability assessment in relation to the geological hazards of the city. In updating the development and land use plans as well as the zoning ordinance of Cagayan de Oro, geohazard assessment information from the Mines and Geosciences Bureau as well as climate data from PAGASA were used to draw up hazard maps, assess disaster risks, and determine development constraints. The planning office then updated the zoning ordinance and issued development guidelines, including those pertaining to the location, nature, and intensity of activities and density of structures. These regulations specified the particular areas where human settlements are allowed. The determination of available land for infrastructure and settlements was done with the end view of promoting not only the highest and best use of land but also the optimization of the health, safety, and welfare of the population. The city now ensures that a zoning clearance is granted only to prospective infrastructure and housing projects that are located outside of danger areas and no-build zones. The zoning ordinance also specif ies density controls through prescribed f loor area ratios. New structures are no longer allowed in the three-meter easements along rivers and creeks. A remaining challenge is rationalizing the densities of establishments and houses already in place. Toward this end, a mix of strategies was drawn up, including in situ development as a priority measure, with an eventual resiting of structures at least three meters from rivers and creeks. The resiting of structures was piloted in Barangay 22, an urban barangay straddling Bitan-ag Creek, one of the biggest, heavily silted, and altered creeks in the city. What is novel about this village project is the barangay-led, community-driven restoration of easements. Barangay leaders and residents drew up means, for instance, to enforce regular collection of garbage in the highly dense settlements that could not be reached by the city garbage trucks. They collected five pesos weekly from the households, which was used to pay a designated resident who gathered the trash from each household and transferred it to the city collection site. Many of these informal settler families also volunteered to move their houses away from the creek in exchange for arrangements in security of tenure. Barangay 22 piloted a flood risk-reduction measure that avoided the displacement of communities and that was implemented by those who held the biggest stake. This measure will subsequently be applied to other barangays along creeks and rivers in the city. This approach works for areas that still have space to absorb housing units that will be resited or moved back from waterways. In many cities in Metro Manila, such as Pasig and the City of Manila, there is hardly any

Not an Ac t of God

145

space for moving back structures from river or creek easements. In this case, the Pasig and Manila local governments cleaned up the waterways and designed a long-term off-city resettlement program.

Provide land for resettlement sites Families displaced by Sendong had to be resettled in permanent dwellings, as they no longer had homes to return to, and they were prohibited from returning to neighborhoods that are now within classified no-return zones or no-build zones. The Cagayan de Oro mayor issued in 2012 an executive order creating a local interagency committee on permanent housing in sustainable communities, with Sendong survivors as a priority beneficiary group. The committee estimated that 19,958 dwelling units needed to be built in order to meet the housing demand of families in evacuation centers, households that needed to be relocated from no-build zones, and families whose housing units were totally damaged by Sendong. A total area of 150 hectares and some four billion pesos were estimated for such housing projects. Government and nongovernment entities started building permanent shelter sites in Calaanan, Lumbia, Indahag, Balulang, Taguanao, and Camaman-an villages, and even in Villanueva town in Misamis Oriental province. These housing projects were a multisector effort, involving national government agencies like the National Housing Authority, private sector landowners such as Xavier University, the office of the congressman, and the archdiocese of Cagayan de Oro. The resettlement sites were inspected by the Mines and Geosciences Bureau prior to land development and house construction to ensure that these areas were indeed safe from geohazards. Resettlement was phased, conducted according to proper procedures and within the limited resources of the government. It can be said that Cagayan de Oro, in spite of it being highly urbanized, still has some leeway, in terms of space and time, in replanning its land use, particularly its settlements. Cagayan de Oro is similar to other highly urbanized cities in the country, such as Davao, Zamboanga, and Butuan in Mindanao, whose urban core is congested but which have enough land for the resettlement of populations and the rationalization of urban densities. Highly urbanized cities outside Mindanao like Baguio in Luzon and Iloilo in Visayas, on the other hand, have lesser flexibility in terms of available land within their territory. The availability of land is intrinsically linked to disaster resettlement programs. In the Philippines, resettling thousands of families is easier said than done because sometimes there is simply no available and suitable

146 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

land in the city to accommodate displaced families. If there are available lands, most of these are distant from sources of livelihood or are downright inaccessible. It has happened that families were relocated to a site that had no provisions for electricity and water supply. The resettled workers returned to their previous residences because there was no stable employment or economic activity in the new area. Thus, a consideration in the resettlement of displaced households is the availability of land within city boundaries. This can be a critical, sometimes a political, issue. City leaders and residents alike have to grapple with difficult questions. First, is there land for resettlement? Second, is the land suitable as a resettlement site? Perhaps there are insurmountable development constraints, or worse, it may be another geohazard area, not just susceptible to flooding but to landslides or earthquakes as well. Third, are there employment and livelihood sources in the site? Resettlement will only be acceptable if families will still have a source of income in the relocation area or if their transportation costs to and from their source of livelihood are reasonable. Fourth, are basic services and infrastructure such as power, water, and roads available? Finally, is the resettlement site socially acceptable, and are the resettled families involved in planning these areas? For towns without in-city land for relocation, as in the case of the seventeen towns of Metro Manila, off-city resettlement is one solution. Another is retrofitting dwellings along the river and the coast such that that there will be zero or minimum casualties and minimal damage to property during flooding.

Preventive resettlement as a risk-reduction strategy Preventive resettlement of households in flood-prone areas can be an effective long-term disaster risk-reduction and management strategy. Preventive resettlement is known to mitigate disaster risk and is also a corrective measure to reduce vulnerability and even improve the standard of living of affected families (Correa 2011). In the case of Cagayan de Oro, households within congested river or shoreline easements were gradually resettled in the less dense villages. This move was made after Sendong, and was also included in the disaster risk-reduction and management plan. Through preventive resettlement, local governments not only reduce the vulnerability of families, they recover the proper use of rivers and its tributaries and protect water resources. Cagayan de Oro has learned postSendong that Cagayan River has a greater value as a landmark of the city

Not an Ac t of God

147

when it is properly used and protected. The seven rivers of Cagayan de Oro, plus its numerous creeks, provide economic, recreation and tourism benefits but also, more importantly, ecological benefits. The city government has realized that Cagayan River should be so used that it nurtures human lives, and not be a force of destruction. Hence, it was decided that the highest and best use of river easements was as open spaces for recreation, promenades, or linear parks, rather than as areas for habitation. City planners are now trying to balance the need of a bustling city for buildable land with the need to protect the river from degradation and the need to protect its settlements from disaster. Indeed, the challenge for planning a growing city is “balancing protection with development” (Gallent et al. 2008, 322). In support of preventive resettlement, Cagayan de Oro embarked on the identification and development of growth areas in the city, other than the central business district. These potential growth centers are in low- to medium-density villages connected to the city center that are less urbanized. These sites are also physically suitable for development and have few or no natural hazards. Central to these growth nodes are residential areas intended for mixed-income housing and, in the case of the Lumbia growth node, a resettlement project for families displaced by Sendong. Resettlement sites are thus integrated in the planned expansion areas of Cagayan de Oro. The city government set aside public land in new growth areas for socialized housing, including the resettlement of informal settler families, with a priority for households in danger areas. This kind of foresight will be useful for cities that need to plan for the expansion of their population and to decongest areas not meant for habitation, such as waterways. They avoid the mistake of relocating families to isolated areas without access to power and water services. Resettlement is planned, and not a knee-jerk reaction to relocate families to whatever government-owned sites are available. Philippine local government units are mandated by the Urban Development and Housing Act to identify public lands within their territory for socialized housing and resettlement housing. Some towns go one step further and start land banking, especially for their special projects. Such lands need to be assessed to determine their suitability as permanent resettlement sites.

Rationalize population densities The accelerated expansion of the Cagayan de Oro population is not a problem by itself, especially for a progressive city that attracts both

148 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

migrants and investments. The challenge lies in rationalizing the spatial distribution and density of settlements. The preferred location of Filipino households has historically been in the urban poblacion, which offers economic opportunities. Such is the case in the cities of Cagayan de Oro, Butuan, Davao, Iloilo, and Zamboanga. Regional capital cities in the Philippines, especially the emerging towns outside Metro Manila, need to temper the preference for urban areas and to develop growth nodes beyond the usual urban center. After all, these cities are often a mix of urban and rural barangays. What complicates this urban preference is the fact that these cities are located within watersheds. These fragile ecosystems are characterized by geohazards, particularly landslides and flooding. A high urban population density becomes a planning issue when the location and density of settlements expose human lives to such geohazards. Land use planning needs to consider the challenges of dense settlements in a watershed. The first track of actions is to prevent the further expansion of built-up areas through zoning controls, like the prudent issuance of development permits. Applications for residential subdivisions should undergo a stringent review, especially of their proximity to a waterway or a floodplain. Floodplains have traditionally been used for settlements, in the Philippines as well as in other Asian cities such as Dhaka, Ho Chi Minh, Jakarta, and Mumbai. Cities of the future can consider aligning floodplain zoning with the planning of settlements. City planners need to prioritize the protection of lives and property over floodplain developments and design a more efficient and sustainable use of floodplains, such as, for instance, for agricultural use, public spaces, or water-detention sites, rather than for residential areas. In addition, policy tools such as the zoning ordinance can be instituted to influence population distribution. Since people are likely to settle near a source of livelihood or economic activity, zones can be planned such that mixed land uses are allowed whenever possible, and residents avoid the cramped urban core of the city.

Plan beyond urban boundaries To address a transboundary concern such as flooding, Cagayan de Oro planners integrated the city and river basin in one plan area, even if it meant going beyond city jurisdictions. The river basin covered not only Cagayan de Oro City but also the three other municipalities of Libona, Baungon, and

Not an Ac t of God

149

Talakag in Bukidnon Province. Planning necessarily involved these towns outside Cagayan de Oro. The master plan for the Cagayan de Oro River Basin was developed by a multistakeholder group called the Cagayan de Oro River Basin Management Council. The master plan provided a roadmap in the protection, rehabilitation and comanagement of the river basin. Cagayan River is the focus of the plan, but its management also entailed reforesting the entire watershed, which was intended to reduce the probability of flooding downstream. Today, the management of the Cagayan de Oro River Basin transcends political jurisdictions, urban-rural classifications, and sector functions. The corresponding management activities are likewise encompassing, spatially. The river easements are delineated by the city planning office as urban parks and open spaces, while parallel protection activities are carried out in the forest areas in the hinterland villages by the city environment and natural resources office. These measures include reforestation of logged areas, and more importantly, the bold move of stopping illegal mining activities.

Correct, timely, understandable information is vital One recurring observation of events before, during, and after Tropical Storm Sendong is the importance of correct and timely information. The absence of such information, or the indifference to warnings about the flood risk and the extreme amount of rainfall, cost dearly in terms of lives and property lost. During the flood, families were clueless on what to do and which evacuation centers and safe access routes to use. Immediately after Sendong, the entire city was at a complete loss on how to deliver relief and recovery efforts. Today, however, public education and awareness about disaster risks and climate change is heightened because these concepts are now real to Kagayanons. In other Philippine cities that have experienced a destructive flood, residents have learned the importance of communicating risk information and installing an early warning system, especially for floods. As avid users of information, communication, and technology, Filipinos now learn of an impending heavy rainfall or flood event through advisories from PAGASA and through various websites, mobile phone messages, applications, and social media. Through these media and communication channels, they can view Doppler data forecasts, monitor water levels, and even report a flood in their area. Broadcast media is particularly effective among both urban and rural residents. The major television and radio networks hold massive information

150 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

campaigns on disaster preparedness. Private sector firms conduct their own disaster preparedness and emergency drills. In “normal times” or days when there is no impending disaster, Filipinos now pay more attention to climate and weather-related information relayed in broadcast media. It helps that the risk information is better understood by the users, whether they are city mayors, village leaders, private sector employees, professionals, parents, the youth, school children, jeepney drivers, household help, or market vendors. Correct hazard and disaster information is now available, and it is presented to them in a manner that they understand, through channels they are comfortable with. Armed with accurate, timely information, the public is given enough lead time for an impending extreme weather event such as heavy rain, to take action to reduce casualties and property loss in case of a flood, and to recover quickly from such an event. It can thus be said that better preparedness makes for resilience. Local governments, in the meantime, have learned to use geohazard information and maps in land use planning. In support of this move, the Mines and Geosciences Bureau of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources embarked on a geohazard assessment and mapping program, covering all 1634 cities and municipalities in the Philippines. The Department of Science and Technology also launched Project NOAH, or Nationwide Operational Assessment of Hazards, which uses advanced technology and information services to support the DRRM program of the national government. Project NOAH provides local governments highresolution flood hazard maps, which are particularly relevant to cities and municipalities that are susceptible to flooding. The maps show floodsusceptible areas in localities within the eighteen major river basins in the Philippines, including the Cagayan de Oro River Basin. Real time flooding data for each city is available through the NOAH website.1 On top of this, the National Institute of Geologic Studies at the University of the Philippines drew up flood hazard maps and made them available through its website.2 These maps are based on simulations of rain-induced flooding with a topographic map overlay, which are useful also for local urban planning. All this geohazard information, although made available only after a series of flooding events, is today used by cities in understanding the different flood risks of their town and in drawing up responses to mitigate the effects of these disasters. 1 https://center.noah.up.edu.ph/. 2 http://www.nababaha.com/.

Not an Ac t of God

151

Conclusion Cagayan de Oro is an emerging, intensely urbanizing city with a majority of its population residing in the limited urban core. The lopsided urbanization heightened the flooding risk of this river city located in a fragile watershed in one of the most flood-prone countries in the world. The destruction brought about by Tropical Storm Sendong showed that adverse impacts are magnified when highly dense settlements are formed in flood hazard areas. The residents of Cagayan de Oro previously assumed that they were safe from flooding and storms, because historically Northern Mindanao has been vaunted as “typhoon-free.” Sendong showed this was no longer true. Kagay-anons also learned, belatedly, that they were completely unprepared for a disaster, and their unpreparedness cost dearly in terms of lives lost and property damaged. Being complacent and naive contributed to the vulnerability of the population. How, then, can cities of the future learn from Cagayan de Oro in preparing for future disasters? The Cagayan de Oro government mainstreamed disaster risk reduction in land use planning, particularly in determining the nature, direction, and intensity of development, to reduce the vulnerability of its communities. The city went beyond urban planning and considered the bigger river basin of which it was a part. The local government partnered with other towns in nearby provinces and convinced villages located near waterways to take radical steps such as restoring easements. This was done through local initiatives, particularly the resiting of houses and structures a few meters away from rivers and creeks as well as through the preventive resettlement of households to safer sites in planned growth centers. For emerging cities in the Philippines and in Asia, there is no turning back on urbanization. When rapid urbanization occurs in a city within a watershed, the management of waterways becomes critical. This requires regulating the use of upstream and downstream areas of rivers. Moreover, this entails rehabilitating the man-made and natural drainage systems of the city. While fixing the city drainage can be initiated, government can simultaneously lead the rehabilitation of forest areas in the hinterlands. A related future challenge is regulating the preference for urban areas, which is widely held in the Philippines as well as in emerging economies in Asia. Creating resilient cities for the future will entail rationalizing population distribution and density through land use and zoning regulations. Land use planning and development controls ensure that neighborhoods and structures avoid being built on floodplains or over waterways. The natural path of rainwater or storm water needs to be carefully considered

152 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

in the location of future settlements. In this manner, settlements will not be located in “danger areas” or “no-build zones,” but in planned, complete neighborhoods. The city will do well to allow mixed uses where feasible, such that residents live in self-sustaining villages, complete with housing, economic activities, government services, schools, health-care centers, recreation areas, public spaces, and so on. When spaces in both urban and rural areas are planned, migration to and congestion in the traditional urban core or central business district are averted. This brings us to the issue of resilience. What makes a resilient city? The future of Asian cities will include climate change and natural disasters affecting increasingly urban settlements. Therefore, it is important to deepen the discourse on how to attain development that is not only sustainable but also resilient. The experience of Filipinos with natural disasters and the difficult recovery has compelled the Philippines to blaze the trail in institutionalizing efforts in building resilience. The Climate Change Act and the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Act passed by Congress are often cited in Asia as models. Moreover, it has shown that resilience entails not only rebuilding better; it means turning around vulnerability and empowering communities. Building resilient settlements is not only about correcting urban-rural spatial disparities and population distribution, protecting waterways, and allocating land for settlements and delineating no-build zones. It means providing information to communities that is both science based and easy to understand. Tropical Storm Sendong was neither an act of God nor an act of nature. The precursors of the calamity were actions, or inactions, of men. The future of Cagayan de Oro City, as well as of other cities that have experienced flooding, lies in whether its people learn from a tragedy and use the lessons to act better.

References City Government of Cagayan de Oro. 2013. Cagayan de Oro City Comprehensive Land Use Plan 2013-2022. Philippines. City Government of Cagayan de Oro. 2000. Cagayan de Oro City Socio-Economic Profile 2000. 2000. Philippines. Climate Change Commission. 2010. National Climate Change Action Plan 2011-2028. Manila: Republic of the Philippines, Office of the President, Climate Change Commission Philippines. Correa, Elena. 2011. “Resettlement as a Disaster Risk Reduction Measure: Case Studies.” In Preventive Resettlement of Populations at Risk of Disaster: Experience from Latin America, ed. Elena Correa. Washington, DC: World Bank.

Not an Ac t of God

153

Elizaga, Elson T. 2002. History: “Cagayan Means River.” Cagayan de Oro, 31 August 2002. http://cagayandeoro.elizaga.net/Appendix/meaning-of-cagayan.html. FGD. 2014a. Focus group discussion held in Cagayan de Oro City on 4 April. FGD. 2014b. Focus group discussion held in Cagayan de Oro City on 26 May. FGD. 2014c. Focus group discussion held in Cagayan de Oro City on 1 July. Gallent, Nick, Meri Juntti, Sue Kidd, and Dave Shaw. 2008. Introduction to Rural Planning. Oxford: Routledge. IPCC. 2001. Climate Change 2001: Synthesis Report. A Contribution of Working Groups I, II, and III to the Third Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change [ed. R.T. Watson and the Core Writing Team]. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Manila Observatory. 2011. “Preliminary Analysis on Extreme Weather Event Tropical Storm Sendong.” Report No. 1, 27 December. Montalvan, Antonio, II. 2012. “Rebuilding a Battered City.” Philippine Daily Inquirer, 1 January. http://opinion.inquirer.net/20265/rebuilding-a-battered-city. National Statistics Office. 2010. 2010 Census of Population and Housing. Manila: Republic of the Philippines. PAGASA. 2015. Website of the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration. Republic of the Philippines, Department of Science and Technology, Scientific and Technical Services Institute. http://www.pagasa. dost.gov.ph. Accessed on 19 November 2015. Regional Development Council-X. 2012. Strategic Action Plan for the Rehabilitation and Recovery of the Areas Affected by Tropical Storm Sendong. Cagayan de Oro City: Republic of the Philippines, National Economic and Development Authority, Regional Development Council – Region 10. Republic of the Philippines. 1991. The Local Government Code of 1991. Republic of the Philippines. 1976. The Water Code of the Philippines. World Bank. 2005. Natural Disaster Hotspots: A Global Risk Analysis. Washington, DC: World Bank. UNISDR. 2007. Hyogo Framework for Action 2005-2015: Building the Resilience of Nations and Communities to Disasters. Geneva: United Nations International Strategy for Disaster Reduction.

Biography Carmeli Marie Chaves is an Assistant Professor at the University of the Philippines School of Urban and Regional Planning and a licensed environmental planner. Prof. Chaves has 20 years of experience in sociodemographic planning and research, settlements planning, community development,

154 

Carmeli Marie C. Chaves

education and health sector analysis and planning, participatory planning, social development project design, and training. She has established networks with government and nongovernment organizations and coordinated with community leaders on project implementation, including the introduction of development policies at the local level. She obtained an AB in philosophy from the Ateneo de Manila University, a BA in sociology from the University of Canterbury, and an MA in demography and an MA in urban and regional planning from the University of the Philippines.

7

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok Danny Marks

Abstract This chapter addresses a gap in the literature on climate justice by examining inequity at the urban scale. Such a perspective builds on the concept of a climate-just city, which prioritizes the needs of those most vulnerable to climate change. This study focuses on Bangkok, a city not only highly vulnerable to climate change, but a city with one of the highest carbon emissions per capita. The chapter highlights instances of urban climate injustice by presenting three case studies: Bangkok’s public transportation sector, the state’s response to the 2011 floods, and coastal erosion in southern Bangkok. The cases show that the city’s governance of climate change has unjustly benefited the upper echelon of society, while low-income communities have been adversely affected. Keywords: urban climate justice, Bangkok climate change policy, 2011 Thailand floods, Bangkok urban governance, urban political ecology

Introduction In June 2015, a group of civil society organizations (CSOs) from a number of Asian countries issued the People’s Declaration for Climate Justice. The declaration asserted: The burning of fossil fuels by big polluters has been found to be primarily responsible for emitting large amounts of greenhouse gases. We refuse to accept the “new normal’ and demand for climate justice by holding the big polluters and their respective governments to account for their contribution to the climate crisis. (Greenpeace 2015)

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch07

156 Danny Mark s

The polluters highlighted here are from the Global North. Climate Justice Now, an international network of CSOs, further asserting the links with the North, demanded “huge financial transfers from North to South based on historical responsibility and ecological debt” (Bond 2008). The focus of these quotations characterize much of the discourse on climate justice (see also Brown 2008; Posner and Sunstein 2008; Asian-Pacific Resource & Research Centre for Women 2009), which is primarily focused on justice on an international scale. During recent years, there has been an increased, if still limited, focus by both civil society and academics on climate justice at the national scale. However, despite a number of scholars, activists, and policy makers being in agreement that urban governance significantly shapes responses to climate change, only a few academics have written about urban climate justice (MacCallum et al. 2011; Steele et al. 2012; Hillier et al. 2013; Bulkeley, Edwards, and Fuller 2014). I seek not only to add to the emerging body of work on climate justice at the “urban scale” from the perspective of urban governance but also to expand the geographical scope of the literature. To do so, I focus on Bangkok, Thailand, in mainland Southeast Asia. Bangkok is not only one of the regions most vulnerable to the impact of climate change, but also a region with one of the fastest rates of urbanization in the world. As a case study into examining urban climate justice, Bangkok provides particular insight because while it has one of the highest per capita carbon emissions in the world, 7.1 tons of CO2 per capita in 2005 (Croci et al. 2011), it is also highly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change. For instance, Bangkok is one of the highest carbon-emitting cities in the world (Croci et al. 2011) and emissions are not only high overall, but per capita emissions are also high, roughly 25 percent more than that of Tokyo. At the same time, Bangkok is exceptionally vulnerable to climate change. The urban population is exposed to coastal flooding as a result of climate change. On average, the city is only one meter above sea level, sinking annually due to anthropogenic land subsidence. Additionally, Bangkok is located next to the Gulf of Thailand, which has been rising a quarter of a centimeter annually (Marks 2011). Furthermore, Bangkok continues to experience increasing drought and floods; as seen in 2011, Bangkok experienced its worst floods in decades. Together, given Bangkok’s unusual characteristics of both high-level carbon emissions and its high vulnerability to the impacts of global-wide emissions, two key questions of equity and justice emerge, which I address in this chapter. First, is Bangkok itself a climate-just city, or not? More specifically, following Steele et al. (2012), does the governance of the city prioritize the needs and issues of those citizens who are most

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

157

marginalized and vulnerable to climate change? Second, how does the urban governance of Bangkok seek to reduce the city’s emissions? Does it proceed with an emphasis on those who emit the most, or on those who are least able to afford to reduce them? In addressing these questions, I rely on the concept of a “climate-just city” to recognize that vulnerability to climate change in any city is largely determined by political-economic processes. The benefits and costs are uneven, and climate change policies may actually exacerbate existing inequalities and create unfair outcomes by marginalizing certain groups (Steele et al. 2012). This concept recognizes that a city’s degree of fairness in mitigation efforts, or lack thereof, is a further outcome of these processes. Given the high degree of income and political and social inequality in Bangkok, as well as the widespread literature on the city’s rapid urbanization and climate change (e.g., UN Habitat 2011; Dodman, Bicknell, and Satterthwaite 2012), this approach is important. I argue that it is worth delving beneath the obvious assumptions in urban governance to explore exactly how and why climate injustices stem from Bangkok’s governance and specific instances of injustices and why they have occurred. By revealing these injustices and the power relations that underpin them, the analysis presented can be considered one move toward imagining the governance of the city that is more climate-just. To make this argument, I first review the literature on urban climate justice and link it to the concept of political ecology. Next, I apply this framework of urban climate justice specifically to Bangkok by first looking at how climate change has been addressed as an object of urban governance. I do so by reviewing and evaluating the city’s plans to address climate change and analyzing the city’s governance of water and disasters. I then draw upon three case studies to investigate whether Bangkok’s governance responses to climate change in the city are just. The first case study looks at the city’s transportation sector. This sector emits more carbon than London’s transportation sector, and this case study discusses how Bangkok has not only failed to curb emissions in this sector, but rather, recent policies have encouraged increased carbon emissions by the growing use of cars by middle- and upper-income residents. Second, the study examines the city’s response to the 2011 flooding as a further case study. Although the floods were slightly affected by climate change, policy makers framed them as primarily caused by climate change. The chapter argues that the city’s response to the 2011 floods made communities in the outskirts of Bangkok, many of them low income, more vulnerable to the flooding, while at the same time this response reduced the vulnerability of those living in the inner city,

158 Danny Mark s

which has concentrations of middle- and upper-income households. Evidence in this section draws upon interviews with low-income community leaders and residents who personally experienced heavy flooding. Third, the chapter investigates coastal subsidence in Bang Khun Thian, detailing how social processes are making coastal communities even more vulnerable to the rise in sea level. I conclude with a summary of my findings and a discussion of the value in urban-scale investigations of climate justice in Asia.

The climate-just city and its relationship to political ecology Since climate justice is a form of environmental justice (EJ), to begin to conceptualize a climate-just city it is useful to begin with a brief summary of the EJ movement. Steele et al. (2012, 10) suggest that at the heart of EJ is a struggle for a more equal “access to and use of nature in its various aspects.” A basic insight of the movement is that “distribution of environmental goods and harms” has a tendency to “follow that of economic goods and harms” (MacCallum et al. 2011, 1). As Schroeder et al. (2008) assert, the core of EJ struggles is universal and part of broader patterns of injustice of global significance. Schlosberg (2007) usefully theorizes that there are three types of environmental injustices: distributive (how environmental goods and harms are unevenly distributed), procedural (whether different groups have equal access to decision making regarding the environment), and lack of recognition (whether groups have been discriminated against due to their identity). Two questions are therefore central to the EJ framework. First, what patterns of good or bad in social inequality exist in relation to the environment? Demonstrating different levels of social vulnerability is therefore a key component in showing “that not all people are equally affected by an equivalent environmental burden or able to cope with or recover from its impacts” (Walker 2012, 46). This question is one of distribution, in which a contextual process claim is being made. It analyzes a specific situation, such as the 2011 Bangkok floods, and historically traces local patterns of development and decision making. Second and more complex, how are these inequalities being produced, who is responsible, how have decisions been made, and how are government policies and practices created and then enacted? The second question is one of procedure and recognition, examining how a society operates, mechanisms for distribution of power, which groups are recognized and marginalized, and, consequently, how uneven environmental outcomes arise. Undoubtedly, these injustices are linked:

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

159

those who are more vulnerable to harms have not been fairly recognized nor involved in decision-making processes. The concept of climate justice draws from the EJ framework. According to the Environmental Justice and Climate Change Initiative, climate justice is a “vision to dissolve and alleviate the unequal burdens created by climate change. As a form of environmental justice, climate justice is the fair treatment of all people and freedom from discrimination with the creation of policies and projects that address climate change” (quoted in Russell and Moore 2011, 18). This definition successfully captures two of Schlosberg’s types of justice (distribution and recognition), though it fails to include procedural justice. To complement this definition, Paavola and Adger (2006) usefully add that a just response to climate change must first incorporate the principle of prioritizing the most vulnerable. This group is comprised of those most in need in terms of redistribution, but also these people’s rights must be recognized so their voices are included in decision-making processes. As mentioned in the introduction, the framing of climate justice, such as the right to be protected from climate change and the responsibility to cut emissions and provide compensation, has mostly been done by academics, activists, and policy makers at the international scale, thereby focusing on the nation-state as the key actor or site in this debate. However, one problem with this framing, as Harris (2010, 215) argues, is that it “fails to account for rising greenhouse gas emissions among affluent people in less responsible states of the developing world” despite the fact that many of them emit carbon at the same level as inhabitants of developed countries. This insight suggests that some cities, such as Bangkok, should bear a greater responsibility to reduce its emissions when compared to lower-emitting cities. Further, within such cities, affluent populations who emit most should bear a greater responsibility to lower their emissions (Bulkeley, Edwards, and Fuller 2014). However, while most urban policy makers, including throughout much of Asia, espouse a vision of a low-carbon urban future, in reality they continue to enact policies which force much of their population to maintain a car dependency (Steele et al. 2012). Additionally, by focusing on the climate justice debate primarily at an international scale, the climate justice agenda has hardly influenced climate change discourses within cities. Urban policy makers continue to present responses to climate change as technical solutions. In most urban climate change plans, there is little discussion of justice, focus on vulnerable communities, or consideration of the social and cultural consequences of climate change (Hillier et al. 2013). As a result, as MacCallum et al. (2011, 6)

160 Danny Mark s

contend, “The ‘imagined communities’ of the metropolitan plans are the middle class, not those most vulnerable to climate change impacts.” Further, many urban scholars and practitioners have framed adaptation responses to climate change around a discourse of city system resilience. However, this discourse on urban resilience, as Friend and Moench (2013) point out, rarely emphasizes issues of equality. Nor does this discourse argue that the urban elite should bear the costs in the interests of the most vulnerable. Consequently, this discourse can be easily manipulated by vested interests. To begin to address these issues, a handful of scholars have conceptualized the climate-just city. In addition, a handful of urban-based NGOs in the US, such as the East Michigan Environmental Action Council (EMEAC), are advocating for climate justice at the urban level. Together with key community members, EMEAC convened the Detroit Climate Justice Alliance. This coalition is developing “a shared vision for a just transition for our city as well as a strategy to get there” (Climate Justice Alliance and Our Power Campaign 2012). Invoking this concept of the climate-just city is valuable in a number of ways. First, the concept advocates urban climate change responses to more fairly protect rights and allocate responsibilities among different groups within cities. Second, seeking to understand the production and performance of climate change discourse by key urban actors can inform us about the ways in which climate change is being imagined by policy makers and how their responses may reproduce inequalities or further marginalize the most vulnerable groups. This increased understanding can help to better shape these discourses, and to insure a fairer and inclusive consideration (MacCallum et al. 2011). Third, scholars have usefully added the dimension of urban political ecology (UPE) to their concept of the climate-just city. With a strong Marxist leaning, UPE originates from geographers perceiving landscapes and urban infrastructures of cities “as historical products of human-nature interactions” (Keil 2003, 724) which are “controlled and manipulated and serve the interests of the elite at the expense of marginalized populations” (Swyngedouw and Heynen 2003). The urban element of the framework developed from the work of David Harvey and Henri Lefebvre. In his seminal work, Social Justice and the City (1973), Harvey begins with the position that the city is both a tangible, built environment and also a social product. Further, cities are built for the purpose of circulating capital, including people, commodities, or finance. Using this Marxist framework, he argues that “cities are founded upon the exploitation of the many by the few” (ibid. 314) and posits that the roots of urban inequality are the scarcity and high

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

161

value of land in good locations. Often the poor live in cheaper areas that are not well-situated and therefore must face the brunt of urban environmental problems. He therefore characterized cities as landscapes of power. Urban political ecologists have expanded upon Harvey’s theory of the city, viewing the urban as a “site where ecology, economy, and society collapse on one another and must be untangled” (Sassen and Dotan 2011, 825) both spatially and temporally. Thinking of the city as a sociospatial hybrid enables us to see how the “social production of urban space unevenly spreads the vulnerability to hazards, exposure to risk and ecological breakdown” (Murray 2009, 171). Scholars such as Murray, Pelling (1999), and Collins (2010) argue that the spaces of environmental degradation and high exposure to hazards, just as spaces of protection against hazard threats, are unevenly distributed over the topography of the city. Thus, vulnerability to climate change in a city is largely determined by political-economic processes. Further, urban climate justice scholars conceptualize the city “as the spatial manifestation of the complex of economic and political processes […] that shape and condition the urban experience” (Whitehead 2013, 1352). Therefore, urban responses to climate change cannot be separated from such processes. It is this research into climate justice that reveals how injustice is created, enhanced, and challenged (Bulkeley, Edwards, and Fuller 2014). Reforming urban governance therefore is a key component in moving toward a more climate-just city.

Climate injustice in Bangkok Now that I have detailed the theoretical framework of the climate-just city, I apply this framework to Bangkok. As mentioned, Bangkok not only emits a high level of carbon emissions, but is also highly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, in particular pluvial flooding, and coastal erosion. A study by Dutta (2011) predicted that due to sea level rise, the city’s total area of inundation could enlarge up to 26 percent by 2050. In 2009, The World Bank estimated that by 2050 the sea level in the upper Gulf of Thailand, along which Bangkok sits, would rise 12.3 cm due to climate change. Combined with a predicted additional 20 cm of anthropogenic land subsidence, the sea level would rise by a total of 32.3 cm (World Bank 2009). Additionally, the number of dengue fever cases has spiked in recent years, reaching 136,000 in 2013 – the highest in two decades – with the greatest concentration of cases in Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Thai health officials have blamed climate change as a contributing factor (Lefevre 2013).

162 Danny Mark s

Concurrently, Bangkok is host to a number of low-income communities. As of June 2013, according to the statistics from the Bangkok Metropolitan Administration (BMA), there are 2054 low-income communities in Bangkok. In these communities reside 2.1 million people. Within these low-income communities, there are 692 slum communities, comprising 700,000 people (Saito 2014). These communities are highly vulnerable to the effects of climate change, particularly to flooding. Due to their limited infrastructure (such as floodwalls), poor-quality housing, a low level of financial resources, lack of access to decision makers, and, in some cases, land tenure insecurity, these communities have a limited capacity to cope with floods. They are also more frequently exposed to floods: many reside along canals or in the outskirts of the city, areas which are first to flood and are less protected by infrastructure than the inner city (Marks 2015). Given these communities’ high degree of vulnerability, a question that needs to be raised is this: Does the urban governance of the city prioritize the reduction of low-income communities’ vulnerability to climate change? An examination of the BMA’s climate change plans should reveal if and how climate change has been thematized and whether social concerns and notions of justice have been included. A review of the “Bangkok Assessment Report on Climate Change” (2009) is revealing. In this document, the BMA discusses how it has sought to mitigate climate change by “the ninth day of each month” to raise awareness of global warming concerns among Bangkok residents, and suggests how they can take part in reducing the city’s greenhouse gas emissions (BMA 2009). The document highlights some of the awareness events held in 2007 and 2008, such as: – “Stop! Warming up Bangkok City”: A campaign which encouraged people living in five major roads to turn off electric lights for 15 minutes; – “Renewable Energy Use”: A campaign which promoted the collection of used cooking oil in order to be reused to produce bio-diesel fuel; – “Stopping Engines While Parked”: A campaign which encouraged drivers to turn off their engines when they are parked at traffic lights. In another example, the BMA joined 7000 other cities worldwide by encouraging residents to switch off their lights during 2015’s Earth Hour, thereby reducing emissions by 1127 tons (NNT 2015). This is an insignificant amount compared to the city’s emissions of over 43 million tons. As many would expect, such events have had negligible success in reducing the city’s emissions, which are incessantly increasing. Thematizing the mitigation of climate change as a volunteer awareness-raising activity does not create large

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

163

enough incentives for individuals to make major changes to their carbon footprint and the events are too small in scope to create any long-lasting change in the city’s emission trajectory. Moreover, the document neither sets an emission target nor discusses the need for a plan to make deep structural changes to the city’s transportation, energy, and building sectors, which constitute the largest sources of emissions. The few mitigation policies it has recommended include constructing buildings more sensitive to climate change, such as by lowering their energy consumption, reducing pollution, and promoting further awareness-raising projects (BMA 2009). These policies are not integrated with economic policies. Moreover, there is no discussion of notions of justice or mention of the ethical responsibility of Bangkok’s higher-emitting citizens need to reduce their emissions. Likewise, the document’s adaptation measures are mostly technical. These include promoting better communication between city officials and scientists, improving early warning systems for disaster and emergency preparedness, preventing contamination of the potable water supply, and educating health off icials about climate-related health risks. A major shortcoming of these proposed measures is that they are vague. There are no numeric targets or specifications as to which agencies will implement what measures, and little integration with existing city policies. An additional problem is that the document ignores any discussion of how to reduce the vulnerability of the most vulnerable, particularly low-income communities. Once again, it fails to incorporate notions of climate justice and the socioeconomic factors which interact with climate change to create these uneven vulnerabilities. Another major problem is that the plan has not resulted in any changes: upon completion of the so-called plan, it was business-as-usual for the BMA and Bangkok’s residents. The BMA’s governors and other top officials have so far paid lip service to these climate change plans, making no major effort to initiate these measures, in particular in the area of vulnerability reduction (Hutanuwatr 2011). The BMA has thus “simultaneously rendered” these measures as “nonpolitical” (Li 2007, 8), thereby making urban adaptation policies “appear as uncontested, neutral, and natural processes isolated from societal or political priorities, biases, and choices” (Joy et al. 2014, 960). Consequently, these solutions merely perpetuate the status quo. Investigating the city’s governance of land and water, which are two key interrelated sectors that affect vulnerability to climate change, reveals that anthropogenic changes to the built environment has made the majority of the population of Bangkok, in particular low-income communities, more

164 Danny Mark s

vulnerable to climate change. Yet the Thai elite, whom Farrelly identifies as “politicians, bureaucrats, capitalist business leaders, and military officers” (2013, 283), have benefited from these changes and are better-protected from the impacts of climate change. For example, as discussed below, the areas where they live and work have the highest concentration of flood-control infrastructure. One of these changes is the city’s heavy land subsidence which began in the 1970s. Bangkok’s ground has already sunk more than one meter since then (Phien-wej, Giao, and Nutalaya 2006). This has occurred mainly because of excessive groundwater pumping, particularly by industries. The state failed to curb expanding water demand, which rose as a result of the city’s expansion. Demand for groundwater surpassed the threshold of the city’s aquifer system and, consequently, over extraction occurred. This problem was exacerbated by the lack of a proper city plan to manage the city’s land usage, infrastructure, and utility development. While the government did succeed in curbing the pumping rate during the early 1990s, it rose again in the late 1990s due to the city’s expansion into outer areas where no surface water supply was available (ibid.). The industrial sector was responsible for nearly all of this pumping, which finally fell again during the past few years (Endo 2011). A major effect of this subsidence is that it debilitates the city’s flood protection: flood walls and dikes subside steadily as the ground sinks and the city therefore needs to make greater efforts to pump and drain potential floodwater through canals (Phien-wej, Giao, and Nutalaya 2006). Another serious effect of this pumping has been on coastal areas of Bangkok, where subsidence has contributed to coastal erosion, decreasing the shore line by at least 400 meters over the past 30 years. This coastal erosion has particularly affected low-income farming communities which reside along the coast of the Gulf of Thailand (Jarungrattanapong and Manasboonphemphool 2009). Overall, what has happened suggests that industry owners benefited largely from groundwater pumping while the city’s overall population has become more vulnerable to climate change. Second, the BMA has wisely designated swathes of eastern and western Bangkok as green zones in order to retain these as drainage areas, which would reduce the city’s risk of flooding. Under this designation, the government has prohibited approximately 20 uses of the land in this area, including housing estates. However, an investigation by Mehl and Mekvichai (2013) found that the current reality differs starkly from the BMA’s intended policy. Real estate developers have built housing estates on both sides of roads, disregarding spacing regulations. A study by Weesakul (2013)

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

165

Figure 7.1 Map of (A) Bangkok, (B) Thailand, (C) Bang Khun Thian

Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

counted over 28,000 houses constructed in the eastern floodway. Similar to groundwater pumping, poor enforcement of existing laws has only furthered this problem. Enforcement agencies have been unwilling or unable to stop powerfully vested developers, including powerful land-owning families, business tycoons, and politicians, who simply ignore land use regulations and construct in these areas (Plumb 1999). In previous decades, some developers paid bribes to government agencies in order to obtain housing permits in these areas, although this practice has, for the most part, stopped now (Bangkok Real Estate Developer, personal communication, 27 August 2014). During the 2011 floods, the water that was diverted to these green zones not only severely damaged these estates, but the buildings also blocked water from flowing south into the Gulf of Thailand (Mehl and Mekvichai 2013). Thus, practices by real estate developers who have profited handsomely from building these estates contributed to the exposure to floodwater of those residing in northern Bangkok for a longer period of time than residents in other parts of the city, particularly the inner city. Governance of the water sector has likewise created distributional injustices. The government either filled in the city’s hundreds of canals or did not stop landowners from doing so. Until the end of the nineteenth century, life revolved around an aquatic network of canals. Not only did these

166 Danny Mark s

canals serve as transportation routes, they also retained water during times of heavy rainfall and when water flowed down from the north. However, to build new roads and housing estates around the city, developers filled in many of the canals or reduced them to drainage ditches and open sewers (Roachanakanan 2012). According to George Olson, a former manager of a US engineering firm which worked on flood protection projects in Bangkok a few decades ago, the government ignored recommendations that canals should not be filled in to accommodate vehicular traffic (Macan-Markar 2011). Bangkok’s weak legal regulations also contributed to this canal-filling trend. Landowners are allowed to take any action on their land, including filling in canals. A study found that 97 percent of the filled canals were in privately owned areas (Davivongs, Yokohari, and Hara 2012). Thus, just as in the land sector, the city’s laissez-faire urban development has created distributional injustice in terms of exposure to climate change vulnerabilities, particularly in flooding. These practices were procedurally unjust too: communities were never consulted about these decisions nor given any opportunity to be involved in the decision-making processes. Second, the city’s flood protection is mostly concentrated in the inner city, where the central business district and government offices, as well as the homes of many of the elite, are located. Following heavy floods in the 1970s and 1980s, the government invested heavily in flood protection infrastructure to protect the inner core of Bangkok. A number of pumping stations were installed and the King’s Dyke, a roadway around Bangkok, was built. They also designed the system so that the floodwaters would be diverted to the aforementioned green zones to the east and west of Bangkok and that the areas outside the dyke could serve as a retarding basin for the Chao Phraya River. However, beginning in the 1980s, the city expanded in the form of housing estates beyond the King’s Dyke, but without the construction of additional dykes and pumping stations, creating uneven exposure to pluvial and fluvial floods (Ohtsu 2014). The discussion in this section suggests that the overall governance of Bangkok’s land and water sectors has been unjust. As a result, low-income communities are more vulnerable to climate change while the elite have been protected and benefitted economically from these changes. Further, the BMA’s plans to address climate change have not taken into account ethical obligations. The plans have failed to curb the city’s emissions, particularly those of its highest emitters, and its adaptation policies are primarily technical, which do not address the needs of the most vulnerable. Moreover, the BMA has implemented next to none of the measures listed in the plan and the national government has done little to push the BMA to do more.

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

167

National-level climate change policies are likewise weak, uncoordinated, and backed by a meager amount of resources (Marks 2011). At the UN Climate Change Conference in Paris in 2015, the Thai national government pledged a meager contribution of 7-20 percent greenhouse gas emission reduction by 2020. According to the government, the extra 13 percent would only occur if Thailand received international assistance. However, this claim is especially questionable because the military government, which seized power in 2014, is promoting the usage of coal. In the latest national Power Development Plan (PDP) 2015-2036, the government plans to increase the country’s coal usage from 15 percent to 20-25 percent. It seeks to build 9 more coal power plants and 20 natural gas plants. Further, current Prime Minister, Prayut Chan-o-cha, has declared that renewable energy is expensive and insufficient to deal with rising electricity demand. It seems, therefore, that the government plans to increase carbon emissions for the foreseeable future (Kongrut 2015).

Case studies of climate injustice in Bangkok To complement this discussion of the injustice of Bangkok’s climate change governance, I now present three case studies of climate injustice in Bangkok: one on the mitigation side and the other two on the adaptation side. They all are examples of distributive injustice and the latter two also reveal procedural and lack of recognition injustices. These case studies therefore help to further tease out specific instances of climate injustice in the city. Bangkok’s unequal transportation sector As mentioned earlier, Bangkok’s transportation sector is a major contributor to its overall emissions. Also, as Table 7.1 indicates, as of 2005, Bangkok’s emissions are higher per capita than those of other major world cities: Even though no statistics are available, it is highly probable that emissions from Bangkok’s transportation sector have grown rapidly in the last few years, particularly after Prime Minister Yingluck’s government enacted the first-car tax rebate scheme. To help stimulate the economy after the 2011 floods, her cabinet passed a scheme in 2012 which gave up to a 100,000 baht (US$3044) tax rebate to first-time auto buyers. The scheme was resoundingly popular in Bangkok: according to the Land Transportation Department, the number of registered vehicles in Bangkok at the end of 2012 was almost

168 Danny Mark s Table 7.1  Emissions values and indicators of major global cities London New York Milan Mex City Bangkok Base year of emission values Total emissions (MtCO2e) (a) Emissions per capita (tCO2e per capita) (a) Emissions from the transport sector per capita (tCO2e per capita) (a) Emissions from the building sector per capita (tCO2e per capita) (a) Energy consumption per capita (MWh per capita) (b) Electricity consumption per capita (MWh per capita) (c) Carbon intensity of energy consumption (tCO2e/GWh) (d) Energy intensity of GDP (kWh/S) (b) (e) GDP_ppp (purchasing power parity) ($ per capita) (e)

2006 44,2 5,9 1,28

2005 63,1 7,7 1,69

2005 7,0 5,4 1,10

2000 33,5 3,9 1,68

2005 42,8 7,1 3,53

4,19

5,94

4,22

0,93

2,48

20,7

24,6

21,7

10,9

20,020

5,2

6,7

5,3

1,7

4,8

284

310

250

317

300

0,45 0,47 46,200 52,800

0,61 0,76 35,600 14,300

2.55 7,845

Source: Croci, Melandri, and Molteni, 2011

10 percent higher than it had been at the end of 2011. It helped the automobile industry, car dealers, and gasoline companies to quickly rebound from the floods. However, the scheme worsened traffic in Bangkok and created a number of negative environmental impacts, particularly an increase in the city’s carbon emissions (Yongcharoenchai 2013). As Techawongtham (2012) points out, the $70 billion baht (US$2.1 billion) used to fund the rebate could have been spent to expand electric train transportation in Bangkok, a much cleaner form of transportation. Another policy contributing to Bangkok’s high emissions is the government’s energy subsidies, particularly in the automobile sector. In August 2014, the cabinet met and decided to maintain the country’s energy subsidies. They raised the price of diesel only 14 satang, from 29.85 (US$0.91) to 29.99 baht (US$0.92) per liter, while keeping the price of natural gas for vehicles (NGV) and lowering the price of petrol by 3.89 baht (US$0.12) (Bangkok Post 2014). In 2012, Thailand ranked fourteenth globally (240 billion baht [US$7.3 billion] per year) in terms of fossil fuel subsidies (Howes and Wyrwoll 2012). The main reason behind these subsidies appears to be a political strategy of the government to show that it assists the public (IISD 2013). However, these subsidies make it more difficult for renewable energy to become commercially viable and, in the case of the diesel and petrol subsidies, subsidies increase carbon emissions.

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

169

Last, many middle- and upper-income Bangkok residents who live in the suburbs have no option but to drive to work in the inner city. The city’s most recent five-year land use plan bans the construction of large office and commercial buildings in the outskirts and only allows low-density residential units in these areas (Bangkok real estate developer, personal communication, 27 August 2014). Further, due to a number of governance issues, Bangkok is currently decades behind in building an integrated, large rail network. The issues include the constant change in government which has resulted in a lack of continuity with expansion plans, the lack of coordination among the eleven agencies which are responsible for the expansion but have competing interests, and the lack of an integrated transportation planning framework (Marks and Brown 2014). These separate issues compel residents to drive long distances daily, back and forth between the suburbs and inner city, enlarging their individual carbon footprint as well as raising the city’s overall emissions. In contrast, members of low-income communities either work near their residences or use public transportation to travel to work, in particular in buses and vans, or on motorcycles. The majority of them cannot afford to buy cars (Kukot Pattana community leader, personal communication, 15 December 2014). In summation, a combination of both national and urban policies has not only contributed to the transportation sector’s high level of emissions, but have also created highly unequal carbon footprints between low-income and middle- and upper-income residents of Bangkok (a distributional injustice). The national government’s first car buyer scheme and energy subsidies created additional incentives for the latter to buy more cars and drive them frequently. Furthermore, the dearth of public transportation and the city’s land use plans force those living in the suburbs and outskirts to drive long distances to work. The governance of this sector has created the wrong incentive structure and it does not push high emitters to lower their emissions. Bangkok floods of 2011 The next case study moves from examining the governance of climate change mitigation to adaptation by looking at injustices that revolve around the state’s response to the 2011 floods in Bangkok. It should first be noted that, according to a group of scientists, climate change was a minimal factor in that year’s excessive rainfall. They find that “the amount of rain that fell in the catchment area was not very unusual” as it fell inside the range of natural climate change variability based on one hundred years

170 Danny Mark s

of weather records (Van Oldenborgh, Van Urk, and Allen 2012). Further, the unusually high coastal tide in October also affected the floods. The high coastal tide pushed back the runoff from the north, stopping it from flowing into the Gulf of Thailand, thus contributing to flooding along the Chao Phraya River. However, while the tide’s high level was mostly caused by an irregular alignment of the Earth, Moon, and Sun (Lemonick 2011), sea level rise, which has risen 12-22 cm due to climate change over the last century, also had a minor effect. Climate change played a role, albeit a minor role, in the 2011 floods. Scientists do believe, however, that the frequency of active monsoons in Thailand will increase from 10 to 20 percent by 2100 due to climate change (Van Oldenborgh, Van Urk, and Allen 2012). Further sea level rise will make it more difficult in the future for the Chao Phraya River and flood runoff to drain. Therefore, the 2011 flood is relevant as a case study because not only climate change contributed, but also presages what could happen in the future. With climate change trends, particularly sea level rise and increased extreme precipitation events, it is likely that Bangkok will face more floods. Indeed, nonmeteorological anthropogenic factors played a greater role in causing and determining the height, duration, and location of the 2011 floods (ibid.). While I do not address these factors in-depth here (see also Marks 2015), in this case study my focus is on what happened once the water reached the Bangkok Metropolitan Region and whether and where instances of injustice arose. In October, following months of heavy rain and the release of water from Bhumibol and Sirikit dams, as the massive runoff slowly swept south toward the capital, the national government’s Flood Relief and Operation Centre (FROC) and the BMA erected huge sandbag barriers to protect the inner city of Bangkok. At the same time, they closed water gates to protect the BMA’s boundaries when some of those boundaries were breached in the city’s central districts. While this scheme kept the city center dry, those outside the city’s inner core bore a great cost: these walls held up the floodwaters in the northern, western, and eastern areas, submerging those areas for weeks (Marks and Lebel 2016). A lower-middle-income community in Don Muang, Yucharoen, felt a deep sense of injustice about the placement of a wall of big sandbags which blocked the water from leaving their community. These decisions generated considerable discontent among local residents of those areas who believed that they were “forgotten by authorities preoccupied with saving the shopping malls and skyscrapers of downtown Bangkok” (Wake 2011). One resident of Don Muang, a northern suburb of Bangkok, angrily complained, “The government is only concerned about impacts to the economy. It does not

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

171

think about how people outside [of the inner city] are suffering” (Yucharoen community member, personal communication, 20 July 2014). In response, throughout October and November, these residents expressed their anger through frequent protests and attempts to destroy the sandbag walls. The FROC neither consulted with nor informed the community that it was placing the big sandbag dyke in their area. It did not tell the community how long the dyke would be in place. After almost a month of living with smelly, waist-high water that had inundated all of the houses in the community, causing the death of one elderly man who had fainted and drowned in the water, the community became angered and decided to work together to demand that the FROC remove the sandbag barrier (Yucharoen community leader, personal communication, 19 March 2014). Led by their community leader, community members began to organize protests next to the sandbag barrier. They convinced others in nearby communities to join them. During one of the first protests, they held a public hearing and voted on whether or not to remove the sandbags. The result of that vote was a unanimous decision for removal. “We are quality citizens in Bangkok” was their repeated slogan. They demanded that the government recognize not only those living in the inner city but also them, as residents of Bangkok. They then demanded that the FROC respect their constitutional and human rights, including the right to hold a public hearing about the barrier and their right of movement. The barrier blocked transportation along Viphawadi-Rangsit Road. After legally pressuring the government, they called on the government to negotiate, and unbeknown to the government, a TV reporter arrived to capture and televise the negotiations. Finding himself live on air, the FROC’s negotiator felt pressured. After listening to the protesters’ demands, he conferred with the head of the FROC, and subsequently promised that within a couple of days, the FROC would remove the sandbags. However, when the deadline passed for the government to remove the sandbags and nothing was done, the people did it themselves. They used knives to cut through the bags. The police did not stop them. According to the Yucharoen community leader, the water level sank rapidly once the bags were cut open (Yucharoen community leader, personal communication, 19 March 2014). Similarly, in Lam Luk Ka, local communities were heavily flooded. One community, Kukot Pattana is a slum community located along Khlong Hok Wa, which marks the boundary between Bangkok and Pathum Thani Province. In October, the floods reached up to roughly two meters from ground level. Seeking to keep Bangkok completely dry, the BMA blocked water from entering into Bangkok from Lam Luk Ka. This move exacerbated the level of flooding in Kukot Pattana and other communities in Lam Luk Ka.

172 Danny Mark s

The BMA built a 2.5 meter-high sandbag wall in October – before the floods came. This wall was placed on the southern side of Hok Wa canal. Remnants of the wall can still be seen today. That wall prevented water from flowing out of the canal into Sai Mai. According to an ex-community leader whose house was located on the southern side, between the wall and the canal, the height of the wall was chest level, or at least one meter. The flooding in this man’s house, which was below the ground on which the sandbags were placed, was neck-high (personal communication, 2 April 2014). His house, as well as all of Kukot Pattana, remained flooded for almost three months. In addition, Kukot Pattana residents inspected the nearby BMA-operated Khlong Song water gate, which led into a subcanal in Bangkok’s Sai Mai District. These people discovered that the water level was two meters higher on the Lam Luk Ka side than on the Sai Mai side. Their finding clearly proved that the BMA protected Bangkok at Pathum Thani’s expense. According to one local resident, because the BMA fully protected Bangkok, people in his area were “like floating ducks.” Having endured the flooding for many weeks, in November, a group of 40 people from this community, led by their leader, plus residents of other communities, protested at a big sandbag site. This site had blocked the water from draining out of their area. The protesters were successful. They had persuaded the BMA to lower the level of the bags. A few weeks later community members negotiated successfully with the BMA to open the water gate wider. Both of these measures led to a lower level of floodwater in their community (Kukot Pattana community leader and community residents, personal communication, 13 and 15 December 2014). Examples from both of these communities suggest that all three types of environmental injustice had materialized during the 2011 floods. First, the government did not equally distribute an environmental harm, in this instance, the floodwater during the floods. Rather, they sought to keep those in the inner city of Bangkok dry. Moreover, the government promised that it would give sufficient assistance and compensation to these citizens who were inundated. However, local residents in Don Muang felt let down by the government, claiming that the assistance and compensation were inadequate (Yucharoen community members, personal communication, 15 December 2014). Second, the government did not consult local communities about the location, height, and duration of the sandbag walls, nor about the management of water gates. Last, the government failed to recognize communities either outside Bangkok’s legal boundaries, such as in Lam Luk Ka, or on the outskirts of the city, such as in Don Muang. Instead, they were treated as secondary citizens. As further evidence, in mid-November 2011 at the ASEAN Summit in Indonesia, Prime Minister Yingluck stated: “It’s

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

173

certain the inner zone of Bangkok will be safe from floods, as the measures to hold floodwaters have been successful” (Bangkok Post 2011). She declared success even when those in the peripheries of the city were still suffering from the floods and while residents of these areas who had been evacuated could not yet return to their homes. After the floods subsided, the Yingluck government proposed a new water management plan. This plan would only create a new set of injustices. The 350 billion baht (US$10.7 billion) water infrastructure plan allocated almost 90 percent of the budget to manage water in the Chao Phraya River Basin. This included the construction of 20 new dams, two 300 km diversion canals to divert water from the north toward the sea, infrastructure to convert 640,000 hectares into water-retention areas, the cleanup of canals and waterways, and widespread replantation. The plan met fierce criticism from civil society, academics, and several local communities. There was also resistance from the judiciary. Civil society advocates charged that the government had not sought adequate public input on their plans – the government held no public hearing before releasing the plan (Cleanbiz.Asia 2013). In Samut Songkhram Province, which is west of Bangkok, thousands protested against one of the proposed flood diversion channels, declaring that the government failed to recognize their livelihoods: the water from one of the new floodways would hurt their fishing and agricultural activities as it would divert water from the central part of the Chao Phraya River Basin to their western side (Attakhor 2013). Once again, the government had given higher priority to those in Bangkok than to those outside the city. Consequently, a local NGO, the Stop Global Warming Association of Thailand, filed a lawsuit in Thailand’s Administrative Court. The claim was that the bidding procedures for the megaproject violated Thailand’s constitution because the government did not adequately include local communities in the decision-making process and, further, had failed to carry out mandatory environmental and health impact assessments. In late 2013, in agreement with the lawsuit, the Administrative Court ruled that the plan must be put on hold until public hearings and environmental and health impact assessments were conducted (Janseen 2013). However, after the military junta seized control in June 2014, they scrapped the plan and asked a group of advisors along with the Royal Irrigation Department to devise a new plan by October 2014 (Marks and Thomalla 2017). Given that flooding in the Chao Phraya River Basin will likely become more frequent and intense as the impacts of climate change accelerate, it is likely that without change to Bangkok’s governance structure, similar types of injustices will only arise again and again.

174 Danny Mark s

Coastal erosion in Bang Khun Thian Bang Khun Thian is the only district in Bangkok located on the coast, with 4.7 km of coastline. The subdistrict of Tha Kam is the only subdistrict on the coast, with a population of approximately 39,000. In Tha Kam, coastal erosion is severely damaging community livelihoods. The area’s primary source of income is small-scale shrimp and blood cockle farming. In the past 30 years, the shoreline has retreated between 500 to 800 meters, eroding by 20 to 25 meters annually. The main impact these farmers face is the risk of losing their aquaculture livelihood. In response to erosion, these residents have built stone breakwaters and bamboo revetments and heightened pond walls to protect their ponds. They must maintain these structures, at an approximate annual cost of 23 percent of their income (Jarungrattanapong and Manasboonphemphool 2009). A survey concluded that most believe these measures are inadequate to prevent future economic losses. These people are worried that future impacts will be even more severe. Over half of those surveyed stated that they suffer from stress (ibid.). This coastal erosion has occurred due to a number of reasons. First, climate-induced sea level rise is one factor: as mentioned, the sea level has been rising a quarter of a centimeter annually. Jarupongsakul (2006) predicts that due to climate change, the sea level at the upper Gulf of Thailand will rise 10-100 cm in the next 50 years. Second, the building of dams upstream in the Chao Phraya River Basin, particularly the Bhumibol and Sirikit dams, has reduced the supply of sediment in the coastal area. A study found that the construction of those two dams has reduced coastal sediment by 75 percent downstream. This means that there is less sediment available to counterbalance erosion losses (Winterwerp, Borst, and De Vries 2005). Third, as mentioned earlier, excessive groundwater pumping in previous decades has caused the land in Bangkok to subside, including in Bang Khun Thian. Fourth, mangrove forests, which play a critical role protecting coasts against coastal erosion and storm surges, have almost all been felled (Jarungrattanapong and Manasboonphemphool 2009), thereby hastening erosion. There are two major sources of mangrove clearing. One is for the harvest of trees. Harvested trees are for export timber, primarily to Japan, and for charcoal production. Charcoal is used for cooking purposes. The other source of mangrove clearing is aquaculture development. Beginning in the 1950s, shrimp producers cleared mangroves in order to build shrimp ponds next to the sea (Winterwerp, Borst, and De Vries 2005). These four causes of erosion are not primarily the result of the community’s actions. While some cleared the mangrove forests to build shrimp ponds and harvest

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

175

the trees, many of them did not. Others from outside the community partook in these activities as well. Moreover, these people are hardly responsible for the land subsidence, sea level rise, and reduction in sediment supply. So far, the BMA has done little to help residents of these communities. While it has built a stone breakwater along the shoreline, along with other small protection structures, these measures are short-term and small scale and will not help these communities in the long run. Further, in its coastal protection plan, the BMA has not included sea level rise as a result of climate change. Nor does the plan address land subsidence, sediment reduction, or propose mangrove restoration as one solution. Consequently, the plan fails to address the underlying causes of the continuing coastal erosion. Moreover, local government agencies in each coastal area legally bear the responsibility of addressing coastal areas. These separate agencies make their plans independently, without coordinating with each other. Thus, coastal protection efforts are weakened. While the national government ought to address this problem, so far it has done little (Jarungrattanapong and Manasboonphemphool 2009). In this case study, once again the three types of climate injustices materialized. Both the impacts of climate change and Thailand’s so­ cioenvironmental policies have created the problem of Bang Khun Thian’s large-scale coastal erosion, which is severely threatening the livelihoods of these communities. The residents of these communities did not create these problems, yet they suffer and bear the brunt of the impacts. Further, the BMA has never consulted with the communities about how they want to address the problem. The BMA has not begun to address the root causes of erosion in its coastal protection plan. The national government does not seem to recognize these communities’ struggles, either. It has ignored the problem, leaving it to local governments who lack the capacity and resources to address their situation adequately.

Conclusion As the impacts of climate change accelerates in Southeast Asia and the region simultaneously becomes more urbanized, future urban governance and policy response to climate change will inevitably become more important. To enable all residents in these urban areas to flourish, as Hillier et al. (2013) declare, scholars and practitioners alike must raise questions of justice. It is necessary to investigate who dominates and who benefits from these responses and who is most adversely impacted and left behind. The concept

176 Danny Mark s

of urban climate justice offers a framework that moves beyond investigating climate change at the international level or through the framework of urban resilience. It astutely draws upon two approaches: (1) the environmental justice movement, questioning whether urban responses to climate change are fairly distributed, conducted in a just procedure, and fairly recognizes the rights of all groups; and (2) UPE literature, arguing that political-economic processes largely determine the vulnerability of urban inhabitants to climate change. Unfortunately, little scholarship has so far applied this concept of urban climate justice to any cities of countries outside Australia, other than Bulkeley, Edwards, and Fuller (2014), who provided brief case studies. I have not merely shown that Bangkok’s governance of climate change is unjust, but have revealed how and why it is unjust. Moreover, I have given examples of how the city’s governance has primarily benefited the upper echelons of society, who have also dominated the policy-making process, while low-income urban communities have had to live with the adverse effects and been left behind. Their voices have been marginalized and their rights not recognized. The examples range from the government’s response to the 2011 floods once they reached Bangkok and the coastal erosion in Bang Khun Thian to the governance of the city’s transportation sector. Further, my analysis of the city’s plans to address climate change exposes them as primarily empty technical, nonpolitical solutions that do not incorporate notions of justice and equity. Certainly there have been instances when previously marginalized voices were incorporated and, consequently, climate governance was more just. As the case studies demonstrate, during the 2011 floods, the high number of protests did reduce the vulnerability of protesters and did alter the unjust spatiality of the floods. In another instance, a group of farmers in Ayutthaya who would have been negatively affected by a floodwall that was built after the 2011 floods sued the Department of Rural Roads (Department of Rural Roads officer, personal communication, 17 April 2015). In the end, the two sides compromised and the Department of Rural Roads lowered the road by 50 cm. And in 2013, in the western fringes of Bangkok, thousands of citizens who reside in this area joined with activists to protest construction of a floodway proposed by the Yingluck government. These thousands declared that the water from the floodway would hurt their fishing and agricultural activities and they successfully halted its construction. Despite these successes, my overall analysis for the future portends that unless changes to the city’s governance are made so that low-income communities are given more voice and their rights are recognized, these injustices will

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

177

likely continue to arise and the most vulnerable people will suffer even more limitations in their capacity to flourish. I have sought to contribute to the scholarship on urban climate justice by applying the framework of urban climate justice to cities in Southeast Asia. I have helped to reveal how economic and political processes, which, as Whitehead (2013) said, shape and condition the urban experience and have specifically shaped the condition of climate injustice in one particular Southeast Asian city, Bangkok. Given that each city has a different set of such processes, as well as different biophysical environments, it would be useful to carry out this research in other Southeast Asian cities, such as Manila, Jakarta, and Hanoi. These investigations would likely reveal that broad generalizations about how and why climate injustices arise and do not necessarily apply to every city. They would fruitfully expand the scholarship on urban climate injustice as well as inform urban policy responses in a way that would center them on the goals of climate justice.

References Asian-Pacif ic Resource & Research Centre for Women. 2009. “In Search of Climate Justice: Refuting Dubious Linkages, Affirming Rights.” ARROWs for Change 15(1): 1-3. https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/AFC-Vol.15No.1-2009_Climate-Change.pdf. Attakhor, Ploenpote. 2013. “Samut Songkhram Pressures Govt over Water Project.” Bangkok Post, 25 November. https://www.bangkokpost.com/news/local/381525/ samut-songkhram-pressures. Bangkok Post. 2011. “Inner City Spared from Floods, Says Yingluck.” 20 November. Bangkok Post. 2014. ““Diesel price cut, cooking gas frozen.” https://www.bangkokpost.com/business/news/414966/diesel-price-cut-cooking-gas-frozen. Accessed on 15 September 2014. BMA. 2009. “Bangkok Assessment Report on Climate Change.” Bangkok Metropolitan Administration. http://www.preventionweb.net/files/11988_BKKassessmentreport20091.pdf. Bond, Patrick. 2008. “From False to Real Solutions for Climate Change.” MR Zine Monthly Review, 6 January. http://mrzine.monthlyreview.org/2008/bond060108. html. Brown, Donald A. 2008. “The Ethical Duty to Reduce Greenhouse Gas Emissions in the Face of Scientific Uncertainty.” Ethics and Climate blog, 19 May. http://blogs. law.widener.edu/climate/2008/05/19/the-ethical-duty-to-reduce-greenhousegas-emissions-in-the-face-of-scientific-uncertainty/.

178 Danny Mark s

Bulkeley, Harriet, Gareth A.S. Edwards, and Sara Fuller. 2014. “Contesting Climate Justice in the City: Examining Politics and Practice in Urban Climate Change Experiments.” Global Environmental Change 25 (March): 31-40. Cleanbiz.Asia. 2013. “Strong Whiff of Corruption from Thailand’s Water MegaProject.” 21 February. http://www.cleanbiz.asia/news/strong-whiff-corruptionthailand’s-water-megaproject#.U6bT9vmSyvh. Climate Justice Alliance and Our Power Campaign. 2012. “Our Power Campaign: East Michigan Environmental Action Council.” http://www.ourpowercampaign. org/org/emeac/. Collins, Timothy W. 2010. “Marginalization, Facilitation, and the Production of Unequal Risk: The 2006 Paso Del Norte Floods.” Antipode 42(2): 258-288. Croci, Edoardo, Sabrina Melandri, and Tania Molteni. 2011. “Comparing Mitigation Policies in Five Large Cities: London, New York City, Milan, Mexico City, and Bangkok.” In Cities and Climate Change: Responding to an Urgent Agenda, pp. 55-86. Washington, D.C.: The World Bank Davivongs, Vudipong, Makoto Yokohari, and Yuji Hara. 2012. “Neglected Canals: Deterioration of Indigenous Irrigation System by Urbanization in the West Peri-Urban Area of Bangkok Metropolitan Region.” Water 4(1): 12-27. Dodman, David, Jane Bicknell, and David Satterthwaite. 2012. Adapting Cities to Climate Change: Understanding and Addressing the Development Challenges. Abingdon: Earthscan. Dutta, Dushmanta. 2011. “An Integrated Tool for Assessment of Flood Vulnerability of Coastal Cities to Sea-Level Rise and Potential Socio-Economic Impacts: A Case Study in Bangkok, Thailand.” Hydrological Sciences Journal 56(5): 805-823. Endo, Takahiro. 2011. “Sinking Cities and Governmental Action: Institutional Responses to Land Subsidence in Osaka and Bangkok.” In Groundwater and Subsurface Environments, ed. Makoto Taniguchi. Tokyo: Springer Verlag Japan, 271-288. Farrelly, Nicholas. 2013. “Why Democracy Struggles: Thailand’s Elite Coup Culture.” Australian Journal of International Affairs 67(3): 281-296. Friend, Richard, and Marcus Moench. 2013. “What Is the Purpose of Urban Climate Resilience? Implications for Addressing Poverty and Vulnerability.” Urban Climate 6: 98-113. Greenpeace. 2015. “People’s Declaration for Climate Justice.” 8 June. http://www. greenpeace.org/international/Global/international/briefings/climate/2015/ People%E2%80%99s%20Declaration%20for%20Climate%20Justice.pdf. Harris, Paul G. 2010. “Misplaced Ethics of Climate Change: Political vs. Environmental Geography.” Ethics, Place & Environment 13(2): 215-222. Harvey, David. 1973. Social Justice and the City. Athens: University of Georgia Press.

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

179

Hillier, Jean, et al. 2013. “Climate Justice in the Australian City.” In State of Australian Cities Conference 2013: Refereed Proceedings. Sydney: State of Australian Cities Research Network, 1-11. Howes, Stephen, and Paul Wyrwoll. 2012. “Climate Change Mitigation and Green Growth in Developing Asia.” ADBI Working Paper Series 369. Asian Development Bank Institute. Hutanuwatr, Khanin. 2011. “A Preliminary Review on Frameworks for Thai Climate Risk and Approaches in Social/Economic Vulnerability Assessment in Bangkok.” Southeast Asia START Regional Centre. IISD. 2013. A Citizens’ Guide to Energy Subsidies in Thailand. International Institute for Sustainable Development. https://www.iisd.org/gsi/sites/default/f iles/ ffs_thailand_czguide.pdf. Janseen, Peter. 2013. “Two Years after Deluge, Thailand Braces for More Floods.” Oman Observer, 29 September. http://omanobserver.om/two-years-afterdeluge-thailand-braces-for-more-floods/. Jarungrattanapong, Rawadee, and Areeya Manasboonphemphool. 2009. “Adaptation Strategies to Address Coastal Erosion/Flooding: A Case Study of the Communities in Bang Khun Thian District, Bangkok, Thailand.” EEPSEA Special and Technical Paper. Economy and Environment Program for Southeast Asia (EEPSEA). Jarupongsakul, Thanawat. 2006. “Coastal Erosion in Thailand: Causes and Management.” Department of Geology, Chulalongkorn University. In Thai. Joy, K.J., Seema Kulkarni, Dik Roth, and Margreet Zwarteveen. 2014. “Re-Politicising Water Governance: Exploring Water Re-Allocations in Terms of Justice.” Local Environment 19 (9): 954-973. Keil, Roger. 2003. “Urban Political Ecology1.” Urban Geography 24 (8): 723-738. Kongrut, Anchalee. 2015. “Bringing Climate Change Policy into the 21st Century.” Bangkok Post, 7 August. https://www.bangkokpost.com/opinion/opinion/647888/ bringing-climate-change-policy-into-the-21st-century. Lefevre, Amy Sawitta. 2013. “Thailand Suffers Worst Dengue Epidemic in More Than 20 Years.” Thomson Reuters Foundation, 24 October, http://news.trust. org//item/20131024100249-aqxiv. Lemonick, Michael D. 2011. “Thailand’s Heart Attack.” Los Angeles Times, 2 November. Li, Tanya Murray. 2007. The Will to Improve: Governmentality, Development, and the Practice of Politics. Durham: Duke University Press. Macan-Markar, Marwaan. 2011. “Environment-Thailand: ‘Bangkok Ignored Warnings.’” Inter Press Service, 3 November. MacCallum, Diana, et al. 2011. “Environmental Imaginaries: Climate Change as an Object of Urban Governance.” In State of Australian Cities Conference 2011. Melbourne, 1-9.

180 Danny Mark s

Marks, Danny. 2011. “Climate Change and Thailand: Impact and Response.” Contemporary Southeast Asia: A Journal of International and Strategic Affairs 33(2): 229-258. Marks, Danny, and Danny Brown. 2014. “City Needs Urgent Mass Transportation Expansion.” Bangkok Post, September 30, 2014. http://www.bangkokpost.com/ print/435063/. Accessed on 24 June 2015. Marks, Danny. 2015. “The Urban Political Ecology of the 2011 Floods in Bangkok: The Creation of Uneven Vulnerabilities.” Pacific Affairs 88(3): 623-651. Marks, Danny, and Frank Thomalla. 2017. “Responses to the 2011 Floods in Central Thailand: Perpetuating the Vulnerability of Small and Medium Enterprises?” Natural Hazards 87(2): 1147-1165. Marks, Danny, and Louis Lebel. 2016. “Disaster Governance and the Scalar Politics of Incomplete Decentralization: Fragmented and Contested Responses to the 2011 Floods in Central Thailand.” Habitat International 52: 57-66. Mehl, Charles, and Banasopit Mekvichai. 2013. “Contemporary Issues in Urban Land Management in Thailand.” Presented at the International Symposium on Emergent Cities in Southeast Asia, Vientiane, Laos, 26 November. Murray, Martin J. 2009. “Fire and Ice: Unnatural Disasters and the Disposable Urban Poor in Post-Apartheid Johannesburg.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 33(1): 165-192. NNT. 2015. “Bangkok Celebrates Earth Hour 2015,” 29 March. http://thainews.prd. go.th/website_en/news/news_detail/WNEVN5803290010002. Ohtsu, Hiroyasu. 2014. “Construction and Development of Social Infrastructure.” In Challenges for Human Security Engineering, ed. Yuzuru Matsuoka and Mamoru Yoshida. Tokyo: Springer Japan, 61-78. Paavola, Jouni, and W. Neil Adger. 2006. “Fair Adaptation to Climate Change.” Ecological Economics 56(4): 594-609. Pelling, Mark. 1999. “The Political Ecology of Flood Hazard in Urban Guyana.” Geoforum 30(3): 249-261. Phien-wej, N., P.H. Giao, and P. Nutalaya. 2006. “Land Subsidence in Bangkok, Thailand.” Engineering Geology 82(4): 187-201. Plumb, Craig. 1999. “Bangkok.” In Cities in the Pacific Rim, Planning Systems and Property Markets, ed. Jim Berry and Stanley McGreal. London: E. & F.N. Spon, 129-156. Posner, Eric A., and Cass R. Sunstein. 2008. “Justice and Climate Change.” Discussion Paper 08-04. Harvard Project on International Climate Agreements. Roachanakanan, Thongchai. 2012. “Floodways and Flood Prevention in Thailand.” Presented at the World Flood Protection, Response, Recovery and Drawing up of Flood Risk Management Conference, Bangkok, 12 September. Russell, Joshua Kahn, and Hilary Moore. 2011. Organizing Cools the Planet: Tools and Reflections on Navigating the Climate Crisis. Oakland: PM Press.

The Political Ecology of Climate Injustice in Bangkok

181

Saito, Norio. 2014. “Challenges for Adapting Bangkok’s Flood Management Systems to Climate Change.” Urban Climate 9: 89-100. Sassen, Saskia, and Natan Dotan. 2011. “Delegating, Not Returning, to the Biosphere: How to Use the Multi-Scalar and Ecological Properties of Cities.” Global Environmental Change 21(3): 823-834. Schlosberg, David. 2007. Defining Environmental Justice: Theories, Movements, and Nature. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Schroeder, Richard, Kevin St. Martin, Bradley Wilson, and Debarati Sen. 2008. “Third World Environmental Justice.” Society & Natural Resources 21(7): 547-555. Steele, Wendy, Diana MacCallum, Jason Byrne, and Donna Houston. 2012. “Planning the Climate-Just City.” International Planning Studies 17(1): 67-83. Swyngedouw, Erik, and Nikolas Heynen. 2003. “Urban Political Ecology, Justice and the Politics of Scale.” Antipode 35(5): 898-918. Techawongtham, Wasant. 2012. “Car Buyer Scheme Is Shameful Waste.” Bangkok Post, 21 December. http://www.bangkokpost.com/lite/news/327214/ first-time-car-buyer-scheme-a-shameful-waste. UN Habitat. 2011. “Cities and Climate Change: Global Report on Human Settlements 2011.” Global Report on Human Settlements. Van Oldenborgh, Geert Jan, Anne Van Urk, and Myles Allen. 2012. “The Absence of a Role of Climate Change in the 2011 Thailand Floods.” Bulletin of the American Meteorological Society 93(7): 1047-1049. Wake, Damon. 2011. “Misery lingers for Bangkok’s ‘forgotten’ flood victims”. Agence​ France-Presse, 27 November 2011. Accessed on 24 June 2015 http://www.abs​-cbn​ news.com/global-filipino/world/11/27/11/misery-lingers-bangkoks-forgottenflood-victims. Walker, Gordon. 2012. Environmental Justice: Concepts, Evidence and Politics. Abingdon: Routledge. Whitehead, Mark. 2013. “Neoliberal Urban Environmentalism and the Adaptive City: Towards a Critical Urban Theory and Climate Change.” Urban Studies 50(7): 1348-1367. Weesakul, Sutat. 2013. Lecture. Asia Institute of Technology, Bangkok, Thailand. World Bank. 2009. “Climate Change Impact and Adaptation Study for Bangkok Metropolitan Region : Final Report”. Bangkok: The World Bank. Winterwerp, Johan C., William G. Borst, and Mindert B. de Vries. 2005. “Pilot Study on the Erosion and Rehabilitation of a Mangrove Mud Coast.” Journal of Coastal Research 21(2): 223-230. Yongcharoenchai, Chaiyot. 2013. “Stuck in the Middle with You.” Bangkok Post, 2 June. https://www.bangkokpost.com/news/special-reports/353013/ bangkok-traffic-never-been-worse

182 Danny Mark s

Biography Dr. Danny Marks is an Assistant Professor of Environmental Studies at the Department of Asian and International Studies of City University of Hong Kong. His research interests are disaster governance, urban climate justice, and Thai domestic politics.

8

Assessing Flood-Related Vulnerability of the Urban Poor 1 Hendricus Andy Simarmata, Anna-Katharina Hornidge, and Christoph Antweiler

Abstract Urban poverty and floods are the foremost challenges for coastal cities of Southeast Asia. It is often assumed that the poor residents of a floodaffected area are mainly vulnerable. Yet, only few studies have placed flood-experienced people at the center of the vulnerability assessment. This chapter aims to explore who is vulnerable among the flood-affected urban poor and how they define flood-related vulnerability. We found that kampung residents use their flood experiences as a stock of knowledge to differentiate the level of vulnerability. Therefore, we suggest applying a life-world analysis to assess the state of vulnerability of an informal urban settlement and expect to identify the potentiality of the flood-experienced ones to organize transformative adaptation. Keywords: flood, vulnerability, Jakarta, Indonesia, life-world

Introduction Urban vulnerability is a conditional state that differs among cities while determining their adaptation pathways. As climate change is debated around the world, the slow onset and rapid changes, especially those occurring in tropical coastal regions, have increased urban vulnerability. This evolving discourse has attracted the attention of scholars from a variety of 1 This chapter is partly derived from Hendricus Andy Simarmata’s 2017 dissertation: “Phenomenology in Adaptation Planning: An Empirical Study of Flood-Affected People of Kampung Muara Baru Jakarta.”

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch08

184 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

disciplines. Most of the scholars agree on the importance of knowing the state of climate-related vulnerability in urban development. Fuchs (2010) has predicted that Asia’s at-risk urban population will reach 2.4 billion by 2030. Most of the affected people will be the urban poor, living in the most vulnerable locations. The urban poor are unique in their capacity for producing space for living, such as the kampung2 in Indonesia. Kampung is the informal, traditional, self-organized settlement that still can exist in the modern living space of Indonesian cities (cf. Jellinek 1999; Kenworthy 1997). The hallmarks of the kampung are a densely populated area, inhabited mainly (but not solely) by poor people suffering from limited access to utilities and other public services (Marcussen 1990). In Jakarta, there are an estimated 600 kampung settlements (Kompas 2010). There are 490 pockets of poverty in Jakarta, which are associated with the presence of kampung (UN Habitat 2003). “It is estimated that 20 to 25 percent of Jakarta residents live in kampungs, with an additional four to five per cent squatting illegally along riverbanks, empty lots and floodplains” (UN Habitat 2003). The vulnerability of kampungs has exposed them to climate-related disasters, especially to flooding due to heavy rainfall, the rising sea level, and tidal flooding (Firman et al. 2011). Many kampungs are located in flood-prone areas, especially in coastal Jakarta. Moreover, the area of kampungs is expanding as the population grows. In flood-prone areas, some kampungs have existed for decades and the residents refuse to leave. This phenomenon then raises the question of how kampung residents perceive the impact of floods and assess their flood-related vulnerability. The disclosure of kampung residents’ perceptions is essential because it is often generally assumed that they are vulnerable. This type of generalization leads to an oversimplification about who and how many people are vulnerable in one place. In addition, the artificial meaning of “flood-related vulnerability” may cause misguided interventions by the city government. Therefore, we need to know how residents of kampungs define their own state of vulnerability. Having ceased the use of frameworks based solely on natural factors, such as the coastal vulnerability index (CVI) of 2001, in favor of frameworks 2 The meaning of kampung is associated with an urbanism terminology in Global South cities. To certain extent, it has the same meaning as barriada in Peru, bustee in India, or kacthiabadis in Pakistan. In Jakarta, the kampung is linked to slums and squatters. Krausse categorized three kinds of kampungs: the “inner-city slum kampung,” the “peripheral squatter kampung,” and the “woodland kampung” (Krausse 1975, cited in Marcussen 1990). Silas (1993), however, has defined kampung as a “tight agglomeration of continuous and incrementally developed self-help housing, built mostly on traditionally owned land in traditional ways by mostly low and middle-to-low income families.”

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

185

based on multiple factors, such as the so-called “BBC framework” (based on Birkmann 2006; Bogardi and Birkmann 2004; Cardona 2004), vulnerability assessments still face multiscale problems. Vulnerability Assessment that uses the holistic BBC framework pertain only to macro- and microscales of a given region. It focuses on the socioeconomic capacity of cities rather than the lived experiences of the urban poor. The indicators cover the statistical data of income, assets, and social capital. This approach tends to perceive the urban poor as victims, instead of as survivors or as adapters. In fact, despite poverty and vulnerability, the poor can still survive for decades in those circumstances. Therefore, the vulnerability of the urban poor needs to be explored beyond the standardization process. Instead, perceptions by the urban poor of their own flood-related vulnerability will shed light on the discussion of their response to natural disasters. Flooding is a classical environmental problem and one of the most difficult urban problems in Asian life. Since Asian cities face urbanization and urbanizing poverty at the same time, the perspectives of the urban poor should be considered in describing the future picture of urban vulnerability. The continuous experiences to flood would shape their responses, resulting in a story of either success or failure. We therefore argue that the experiential knowledge of Asian people should be taken as the baseline for planning the urban development pathway toward a resilient city. The conceptualization of vulnerability needs to be examined in the context of transformative adaptation. As described by O’Neill and Handmer (2012), practical learning can differentiate the intention of change. If someone has the ability he/she actually has transformative capacity. In ecological terms, Olsson (2003) argues that the transformative capacity is the capacity to initiate the social transformation that can improve the state of a desired ecosystem and related values. To understand the transformative adaptation, we need to examine who makes the improvement and what the changes are. The clarity of the spatial-temporal dimension of individual actions can contribute to the discourse of the transformative adaptation. This chapter examines flood-related vulnerability from the perspective of the urban poor. First, there have been few phenomenological studies of how they understand their own vulnerability. Second, many studies generalize all people who live in a vulnerable area as vulnerable. Third, the adaptive capacity of the urban poor is measured mostly by static and tangible variables. In fact, capacity is a dynamic concept; it is not always tangible. Fourth, very few studies have placed flood-affected people at the center of vulnerability assessments. In fact, the communities are rich in practical

186 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

knowledge. Fifth, an urban adaptation policy for the informal settlement is often simply offered by relocating the residents to a safer place, without considering their adaptability by measuring their vulnerability. Based on the criteria of a community vulnerable to flooding, the presence of low-income groups, and legal settlements in north coastal Jakarta, we selected Kampung Muara Baru (KMB) and Kampung Kamal Muara (KKM) as case studies. Through both case studies, this chapter explores the state of vulnerability of the urban poor due to frequent flooding from the perspective of kampung residents themselves. The focus would be on the changing meaning of vulnerability as revealed in the past and present experiences of flood-affected people. We apply Schutz’s life-world theory to reveal the lived experiences of flood-affected people in the dynamic horizon of how they live and how floods live with them. The study uses data based on field research conducted from April 2012 to March 2013 and secondary data collection, such as maps, statistics, and previous studies. The field research methods consisted of participant observations and group discussions in three neighborhood units under KMB and two neighborhood units under KKM. Semi-structured interviews were done with kampung leaders and 22 heads of the neighborhood association, and in-depth interviews were held with flood-experienced people and new tenants recruited through snowball surveys. The chapter consists of five sections. Following the introduction, the second section discusses the human dimensions of flood-related vulnerability. The third section presents the life-world of flood-affected people through the case studies of KMB and KKM and discusses the measurement of the state of vulnerability. The final section summarizes and recommends future research.

The human dimension of flood-related vulnerability Numerous scholars have attempted to add the human dimension to the definition of “vulnerability.” Wisner et al. define “vulnerability” as “the predisposition of society and individuals toward a stressor or hazard to be harmed” (2004, 11). Bogardi et al. (2005) argue that the character of a community that lives in a specific geographical region contributes to its state of vulnerability. According to Bengtsson et al. (2007), different social groups have different vulnerabilities. Therefore, social drivers, such as social norms, social capital, or networks, are used to define “urban vulnerability” (Christmann et al. 2012).

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

187

However, the focus on social drivers elicits insights from the affected people. It will not reveal the values that are embedded in individual actions. As Berger and Luckmann argue, “everyday life presents itself as a reality interpreted by men and subjectively meaningful to them as a coherent world” (1967, 19). The meaning of the flood depends on personal interpretation and continuous interaction on a daily basis with the flood itself (cf. Kuruppu and Liverman 2011). Only people who experience frequent floods can understand the real state of vulnerability they create. Bankoff et al. (2004) thus suggest that the role of subjective and intersubjective interpretation and perception of disastrous events is imperative to understand how vulnerability is constructed. Drawing on those concepts, we argue that the vulnerability assessment needs to use the points of view of the people who know precisely what capacity they have and who need to adapt to the stresses or shocks resulting from climate extremes. The state of vulnerability depends on how people perceive the impacts upon them and their property. What they perceive is specifically related to the kinds of changes that they have experienced. The perception of the affected people then is very important for a city to define the meaning of vulnerability. A vulnerability assessment that just uses data from the natural sciences will not arrive at the essential meaning of vulnerability. We need a peoplecentered approach that focuses on the experiential knowledge of the affected people. It considers the creativity and innovation of local people, instead of experts’ judgments. The approach suggests that affected people should not be looked at only as victims, but as creative actors. Since it focuses on the way people have with coping with disasters, it adopts the concept of the territorial unit.3 This unit is the zone of action shaped by lived experience. Korten and Klauss (1984) add that the sustainability of the well-being of the people is the main reason for zoning delineation. It will allow people to define the goals, control the resources, and direct the processes affecting their lives (Gran 1983, 176). The shift in focus from the spatial to the people-centered requires an analytical tool. The life-world analysis invented by Alfred Schutz in the 1960s can structure the everyday lived world of vulnerable people. An individual’s life-world is determined by his or her position in time and space 3 Friedmann (1984) has attempted to develop a territorial unit conception to def ine an inclusive development strategy based on the principle of self-reliance. In his study, he defined an individual to be a member of a territorial unit from neighborhood to national level, based on the residential unit, rather than temporary economic utility.

188 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

(Schutz and Luckmann 1974). Based on his or her lived experiences, there are three kinds of arrangement that construct his or her world: spatial, social, and temporal. Those arrangements delineate the person’s zone of operation (Wirkzone). The aggregation of the individual’s life-world is a social world. Therefore, the state of vulnerability depends on the cumulative past, completed experiences, and open expectations for the future (cf. Adomssent 2004, 10, as cited in Oberkircher and Hornidge 2011). Several scholars have applied Schutz’s life-world to the field of disaster risk studies and climate change adaptation. This approach reveals the lived experiences of affected people. For example, Ehlert (2012) has revealed the practices of flood utilization for village livelihood experienced by Vietnamese farmers in the Mekong Delta. Hornidge and Scholtes (2012) investigated the local knowledge that is being applied for the adaptation strategies to drought and flood in Toineke Village, West Timor. Oberkircher and Hornidge (2011) examined the role of religious values in the ability of farmers in Khorezm (Uzbekistan) to manage and, particularly, to conserve water. The present study is expected to make contribution based on the stated vulnerability of flood-affected people in the informal settlements of north coastal Jakarta.

The life-world of flood-experienced people Jakarta is one of the most vulnerable cities in Southeast Asia and its north coastal area is very vulnerable to floods (Firman et al. 2011). The National Agency for Disaster Management (2014) recorded that 22 of 131 floods in Jakarta occurred in North Jakarta in the rainy season. Besides extreme rainfall, the combination of sea level rise and land subsidence is also the major cause of coastal flooding. The most hazardous time of flooding is in the period of the monthly lunar tidal cycle when North Jakarta could experience floods for three days (Belarminus 2013). Big floods often occur in which the water level of inundations reaches 50-100 cm and that can last for months (Sentosa 2010). The big flood in January 2013 conf irmed that the floodwaters did not recede even though eight standby pumps and twelve portable pumps had been used to drain the water (Belarminus 2013). Consisting of six subdistricts, the 60,000 hectares of land of the North Jakarta area is highly populated and dominated by residential and industrial zones. Most of the population lives in kampungs described as spontaneous informal settlements. In 2015, the government of DKI Jakarta categorized

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

189

53 out of 159 neighborhood units or rukun warga (RW)4 in North Jakarta as “slum areas.” Penjaringan is one of the six subdistricts that consists of slum areas and has experienced flooding for decades. BPS Indonesia classified Penjaringan as having the largest number of poor households through a poverty survey in 2008 (Firman et al. 2011). Lying under the sea surface ranging from one to three meters below (Abidin et al. 2008) and bounded by sea, river, and lake, Penjaringan is subject to high spring tides and rising sea level, especially tidal floods. The sea level rise has been predicted to reach 0.35 centimeter per year (Brinkmann 2012). KMB is administratively registered as Rukun Warga (RW) 17, which makes it part of Kelurahan5 Penjaringan. According to the Kelurahan Penjaringan Off ice (Kantor Kelurahan Penjaringan 2013), the KMB area is about 112 hectares and inhabited by 21,865 inhabitants or 12,818 households, in which 64.9 percent are adults and 54.4 percent of the adult population is male. The density is about 193 inhabitants per hectare, distributed among 22 formal RTs and 28 informal RTs. There are no official records about the livelihood of KMB residents. Many KMB residents work as traders, harbor laborers, and fishermen. Meanwhile, the total number of slum households in KMB reached 96.7 percent or 11,295 residents. Even though f loods often strike the KMB severely, people continue to live there. Population statistics show that the population of KMB was about 17,710 in June 2009 and had continuously increased to reach 21,685 in 2012 (Kantor Kelurahan Penjaringan 2013). Also, the number of neighborhood associations (RTs) has also signif icantly increased, from only 12 in early 2000 to 44 in 2012. This conf irms that the flooding is not a deterrent to moving there. Still located in Penjaringan subdistrict, the area of KKM that was studied is RW 01. The settlement, dating from 1953, started from a small piece of land in the west that expanded gradually to occupy the fishpond in the eastern part and later become a new kampung. The area is about 7 hectares and was inhabited by 4361 people in 2013, or about 623 inhabitants per hectare, 4 A rukun warga (RW) is a neighborhood association that consists of several rukun tetangga (RT). The RT is the smallest neighborhood unit in an administrative settlement in Indonesia. The head of an RW or of RTs is a documented resident who is elected by residents for a three-year term. 5 A kelurahan, or subdistrict, is the smallest unit of the Jakarta provincial government according to the Governor Regulation of DKI Jakarta no. 147/2009 regarding the Governmental Organization of DKI Jakarta Province. A kelurahan is established in order to implement the responsibilities of the government within the subdistrict. Its other functions including maintaining and developing public and health facilities, monitoring the usage of rented houses and open green spaces, and empowering RWs and RTs.

190 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER Figure 8.1 Maps of (A) Location of KKM and KMB in North Coastal Jakarta, (B) Indonesia, and (C) North Jakarta Administration Area

(A) and (B) drawn by Ariel Shepherd (C) Source: Hendricus Andy Simarmata

distributed across eleven RTs. Most of the residents of KKM are fishermen or factory workers. Besides Betawi, they consist of urban migrants from Bugis, Sundanese, Javanese, and Sumatrans. The flood occurs three times per month and one event could last three to four days with an average height of 40 cm in the main road and about 70-80 cm within KKM. The causes of the floods are a combination of the rising sea level, the formation of the delta, high tides, and land subsidence. Living on a highly exposed area (floodplain) and a spatially sensitive area (high density) is a consequence of the people of KMB and KKM choosing to live and work in the same area. The high-density settlement of KMB around the Pluit Reservoir and of KKM in the coastal area is the confirmation of the indifference of the people of both kampungs to the potential risks posed by their living places. Thus, they have made an intentional and conscious decision to settle there, despite having other options. They fully understand that their homes will be flooded, but they still choose to live there. According to Bapak Arsyad, a 53-year-old resident who has lived in KKM for 22 years, as a fisherman he needs to live next to the fish market to sell his catch. That is the number one reason why he lives there. The disadvantageous factors, such as the fact that it is in a flood zone, can be managed by adapting the houses (interview, 3 October 2013). A similar reason is provided by Ibu Rohima, 48 years old, who has lived for eighteen years in KMB: her food

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

191

stall is in a good location because of the busy activity that takes place in Nizam Zachman fishing port, located near KMB (interview, 15 November 2012). Therefore, both are not interested in moving even though they often experience floods. The dominant position of the bodies of water in the north coastal area of Jakarta has spatially framed the residents’ life-world boundary. Residents of KMB sense the water space through the presence of a water reservoir (Waduk Pluit), a creek (Kali Gendong), a sea wall (tanggul laut), and the water pump (Stasiun Pompa Muara Baru). Meanwhile, KKM residents count the fishpond (empang), river (Kali Kamal), and fish market (TPI Kamal) as the spatial boundary of the kampung settlement. Those water elements have constructed a living place surrounded by water, making for a unique way of thinking. The low-lying level of the coastal area also influences the social construction process of the water-sensitive environment. This perception is exacerbated by the phenomenon of land subsidence. Konedi, the secretary of KMB, explained that those water elements play a significant role for them in understanding the floods (interview, 13 October 2012). They believe that floods occur when those elements exceed their capacity, especially if they experience extreme rainfall and the overflow of floodwaters from the main rivers and the tidal flood from the sea occur simultaneously. Therefore, the spatial boundary of flood-affected people also includes an awareness of water elements outside of the area. Meanwhile, the temporal boundaries of the floods are determined by the seasons. The floods come only during the rainy season. The suffix “ber” in the Bahasa words of Okto-ber, Novem-ber, and Desem-ber and “ri” in Janua-ri and Februa-ri are the heredity symbols for an intensive time of rainfall. The heavy rains are thus associated with floods. This knowledge transmission occurs from generation to generation. Most residents of Jakarta kampungs perceive that the big floods usually follow a five-year cycle. This corresponds to the series of big floods in November 2002, December 2007, and January 2013 (see Figure 8.2). The temporal boundaries of kampung residents have also been changing continuously, depending on the spatial alteration caused by physical infrastructure development. This includes drainage from the Dutch canal to Kanal Banjir Timur (KBT). They sense that the infrastructure has minimized the intensity and frequency of floods, but just for the time being. They have also noticed that their houses are sinking. Many interviewees in KMB and KKM shared that the built sea wall has lowered the level of the floods. They added that the presence of portable pumps has increased the safety level when extreme rainfall occurs.

192 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER Figure 8.2 Flood occurred in KMB Jakarta on 19 January 2013

Photo taken by Hendricus Andy Simarmata

With regard to the social boundaries, both groups of kampung residents always share their thoughts about their flood history in informal meetings. Housewives have social gatherings (arisan), men have Maghrib discussions, and young people have their own conversations. Women have the key role in generating knowledge about floods since they manage the household when the flood comes. Women use practical language if they want to communicate with their neighbors regarding their flood-related vulnerability. The daily Maghrib discussion takes place around 6 p.m., when the men gather before and after their prayers. The youth group discussion takes place outside. They usually talk about whatever comes to mind, while having a light snack sold by street vendors, such as bakso, gorengan, or buah-buahan. The social relationships that are formed by those three events have oriented the residents’ perception of the floods. Therefore, the structure of the life-world of flood-affected kampung residents indicated that they perceive the flood as a part of life. The changing space and time and the dynamics of relationships among people who have lived through the same floods over the years has produced a stock of knowledge based on the generation and interpretation of individual and collective experiences. This situational knowledge thus becomes the reference for kampung residents to measure their own vulnerability to floods.

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

193

The meaning of perceived vulnerability Using a life-world analysis, we now discuss how flood-affected people perceive their state of vulnerability. Vulnerability encompasses three concepts: exposure, sensitivity, and adaptive capacity (IPCC 2012). Therefore, this section elaborates the insights of kampung residents in perceiving their level of flood exposure, their sensitivity to floods, and their capacity to adapt to floods. Exposure Based on interview and transect mapping of neighborhood leaders, as represented by the head of the RTs, we can identify how they perceive their exposure to floods. Residents of both kampungs recognize that their living places are in a low-lying area and susceptible to be overflowed by high tide, rivers, and rainfall (KKM) or the reservoir (KMB). KMB residents report that floods have become less frequent since 2007 because of the construction of a 1.5-meter-high sea wall (measured from the land surface). Since 2007, they claimed that there had not been more than five floods in a year, whereas previously they had had an average of seven or eight. However, the inundation still occurred during prolonged and heavy rains and the road was inundated because the drainage was clogged (interview, Nanang, 7 December 2012). Garbage-clogged drains have only exacerbated the inundation during heavy rains. The water gate and the water pump cannot prevent inundation caused by heavy rainfall, tidal floods, or even the heavy flow of floodwaters from the upstream Ciliwung River. In addition, the dense settlement has taken over a portion of the area of water and thus reduces its retention capacity. The extensive development of new settlement areas upon the former fishpond and the sport stadium over the wetland have triggered more flood exposure in KKM. The landscapes of KKM and KMB have shifted from being dominated by fishponds to being characterized by dense urban settlement. KMB residents use adult body measurements to describe the intensity of the floods. Another interviewee, Pak Nasrudin (RT 20), states, “Here, [if] a half day of rain comes, the rising water covers the road to ankle level” (interview, 8 December 2012). The highest level of water is over the head, followed by chest high, waist deep, knee level, and ankle deep. They also measure water depth from the level of the road in front of their houses. Meanwhile, KKM residents use the house floor as the level of flood reference. According to them, the heaviest floods happened in 2002, 2007, and

194 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

2013. They also gauge the magnitude of the flood by its duration. If it lasts less than a day, the flood is of low magnitude, but if it lasts longer, it is considered a big flood. The last big flood, lasting six days, was in January 2013. Community leaders of KMB perceive that floods equally cover most of their area, except for RT 2 and RT 3, which have always had less flood coverage. Meanwhile, for KKM residents, RT 5 and RT 6 are the areas where floods last the longest due to the area’s physical “bowl” form (interview, Ust. Syhroni 2012 and Hj. Lahwiyah 2013). However, most of them perceived that the community that live on the left side of Muara Baru Street, which is next to the Pluit Reservoir, were more frequently flooded than the RTs located on the right side. This series of big floods has changed the meaning of the risk value of the flood for kampung residents. On the one hand, they perceive big floods as stressful events that adversely impact their daily lives instead of as natural disasters. On the other hand, small floods, which frequently occur in the rainy season or during a full moon, are perceived as ordinary events. This perception is because of the series of large and small floods that have occurred since the 1990s. Most of the interviewees stated that the first flood that they lived through was distressing because the visual landscape of their houses had changed from land to water. Over time, however, they became accustomed to the floods, knowing that the waters would eventually recede. This repetitively individual flood experience is the initial knowledge that helps them to transform their understanding of their living environment. Even though they know the occurrence time of floods is uncertain, they often update their knowledge, especially when speaking to their neighbors and residents in other RTs. They are always aware that their living place is highly exposed to flooding. However, the residents question the perception that they are vulnerable to floods because they have deliberately chosen to live in a place that has frequent floods. The sense of flood-related vulnerability that they possess is the derivative impact due to flooding, such as tons of garbage, dangerous reptiles (e.g., snakes), bacteria, and the awful smell. Ibu Arsiti, a KKM resident, encountered a snake in her house during a flood. The field survey that was conducted by Kapuk Naga Indah (2010) also mentioned that diarrhea was the second-highest occurring disease in the area, after upper respiratory tract infections. When we visited the flooded KMB on 19 January 2013 the bad smell was pervasive. Therefore, the meaning of perceived exposure is not only overflowed water, but also derivative hazards from the flood.

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

195

Sensitivity Conceptually, a sensitive person is naturally or endogenously susceptible to the impact of floods. The interviewees listed types of people they know are sensitive to floods. Among these are the elderly, children under six years of age, land-based residents, and new tenants. What all of these people have in common is a dependence on others and a lack of resilience in regard to adapting to the situation of big flood events. The elderly cannot always escape the floods. Their physical weakness or the absence of family members is often shown to be factors in the death of older people during floods. According to Gustara, the head of KMB, two elderly people – Tjasti (74 years old) and Salim (60 years old) – who were sick, perished in the 2013 flood because they refused to be evacuated. Not enough food and medicine in their homes for a flood that lasted five to six days is the main reason they died. They had probably not expected the flood to last that long (interview, 23 February 2013). Children without adult supervision are also among those sensitive to flooding. The 2013 flood killed an eighteen-month-old child. The health issue of children becomes the main concern. The KKM residents also found that children are liable to contract diarrhea and skin diseases during the flood and postflood periods (interview, 10 March 2013). The land-based residents and new tenants are also the sensitive groups who were mentioned in interviews and two group discussions of both kampungs. These are people who usually come from inland or downtown and who have lived in KMB either for less than a year or have never experienced big floods. These people tend to be worried during flood events because they are not ready to keep their belongings safe. They also have limited access to emergency information and lack the experience of following the evacuation route. In contrast, fishermen or boatmen (manusia perahu) can deal with floods because they are used to the water environment, and have fewer land-based possessions, and can easily get about in the water. Therefore, in the case of flood sensitivity, it is clear that the vulnerable groups are the people most sensitive to flooding. Among them, the key factors that differentiate the level of sensitivity are whether they have water-related livelihoods, have flood experience, and have the right kinds of social relationships. Those who are used to working on the water have more flood knowledge and are familiar with the neighborhood and have a greater degree of resilience in regard to dealing with flooding – therefore, they are less disturbed by these events than others might be.

196 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

The adaptive capacity Based on in-depth interviews and group discussions with several people who have lived in both kampungs for more than ten years, the word that often comes up is “flood experience.” When we asked about the importance of money in adapting to the flood situation, they acknowledged that it is important. However, most of them still prefer to use it for daily needs rather than allocate it for flood-adaptation costs. They are convincing in their claim that using the available materials and manpower in their neighborhood enabled them to adapt to the flood. Actions taken in past floods guided the actions they took in present and future ones. Kampung residents do not only rely on their personal experiences, but also on those of others. Those precedents are commonly used to predict the actions that they will take in the future. Most of the adaptive capacity revealed by kampung residents pertained to their adaptation to the big floods. The responses affect what the people can eat and drink, when and how the children can go to school, men can go to work or earn money, and the women can go to market. When one person manages to do this, the neighbors usually follow suit. The successful person also sometimes shares their strategies or experiences with their neighbors. A holistic understanding of where they live and relationships with neighbors helps them to adapt to the challenges of the environment. The individuals or groups make these daily activities into habitual actions during floods. Therefore, the longer they live there, the more they learn about safe places, the closest shelters, the fastest evacuation routes, and the best survival strategies. In KMB, the recovery activities assist people cleaning up after the flood, repairing their property, and replacing their lost possessions. Inexperienced people often clean up at the wrong time, spend more on repairs, and do not know how to find affordable replacements. As stated by Fendi (RT 16), according to his experience, “the good time [to clean] is when the water was still in place, at least ankle high” (interview, 28 January 2013). In addition, Ridwan (RT 21) noted that he usually relies on the donations that often come as a result of the flood. Similar with what is perceived by KMB residents, KKM residents also value the flood experience that can provide practical knowledge to them about how to deal with events before, during, and after floods. It can be seen in Figure 8.3 that KKM residents elevate the road and raise the floors of their houses. The experienced people always compare the height of an inundation from the last flood to the recent flood in order to determine the level of the floor. People who can afford to do so will raise their houses. Those who cannot elevate the floor will build a dike in front of their doors.

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

197

Figure 8.3a Elevated road and house floors

Photo: Dimastanto, 2013

The use of past experiences to anticipate future floods is most apparent in how residents adapt their houses to survive the flood, rather than by improving it to suit their lives between floods, such as by keeping the house free of excessive dirt, creating proper storage places, preparing logistic food supports, and improving neighborhood facilities. This happens because experienced people know where to find the needed logistic assistance when floods happen. This information is valuable and so is not always shared with new residents. In fact, teenagers can earn money during the inundation period by collecting plastic bottles and glasses and renting carts to transport people. Those with experiential knowledge engage in transformative adaptation measures on an individual basis as well as at the community level. How long kampung residents have experienced floods and how they apply that experiential knowledge determines how they transform their living system based on individual and social learning. Some people limit their zone of operation to their family level, but others expand their zone to the neighborhood for collective action. Therefore, the evolving structure of the life-world can shift the perceived place of the water-surrounded and flooded area to the new adapted living place. It is thus important to identify the individual life-world as a baseline in order to differentiate the level of adaptive capacity among the flood-affected people.

198 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER Figure 8.3b Man elevating road access to his house

Photo: Dimastanto, 2013

Assessing vulnerability based on flood experience Using flood experiences as the basis to measure vulnerability has brought us to the continuum of vulnerability and adaptation (O’Brien and O’Keefe 2014) and to investigate deeper on the transformative adaptation at an individual level. The continuum means that the level of vulnerability cannot be separated from the level of adaptability. The state of vulnerability depends on the time and

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

199

space of flood occurrence. It is a dynamic situation because vulnerable people can use the stock of knowledge in their community to be able to transform themselves into adapters. The temporal dimension can be tracked down from the time span of lived experiences of flood-affected people. The ability to react, continuously engage in reflective practices, and produce practical knowledge will allow them to predict, not the future flood, but the future actions that are necessary for surviving (or even benefitting from) the flood events. The meaning of the water-surrounded environment and the number of flood occurrences are the necessary stocks that enable residents to understand their degree of exposure. The place-based memory of the situation of floods is an essential source to analyze their historical and comparative flood exposure. It would also increase the capability of self-censoring of flood-affected people to measure the level of flood exposure. This method is different from the flood modeling that uses a tide gauge to measure the tidal level or river flow. Even though the information on the use of self-censoring about flood exposure is not precise, it is meaningful. The kampung residents must develop their ability to use this tool and rely on their sense of the changing water level. However, the future trend of flooding is still uncertain and beyond their capacity to predict. Therefore, the self-censoring ability that they apply, based on their water-surrounded environment, still limits their ability to manage future risks. Furthermore, the depth of understanding of flood exposure depends on how long they have stayed in the area and on the closeness of their relationship with residents who have been there longer. For the people who have lived there for decades, the sense of being surrounded by water is fully constituted in their life-world. The water-sensitive space, which exists within both their actual and potential reach, is perceived as their living place. This perception thus means that they are low-exposed people. Meanwhile the people with less experience of floods have less access to these insights, and they do not look for the water footprint in their neighborhood. This means that they are high-exposed people. We argue that people who are sensitive to floods sustain more loss and damage than those who are not. Sensitivity to floods is comparable to an allergy. Sensitive people identify and assess their fragility based on the zone of operation that they created before, during, or after a flood. The kampung residents have identified certain people like children, the elderly, the disabled, the land-based, and new residents who need assistance as sensitive. Because of their dependence, sensitive people’s zone of operation is not adequate to cross the boundary of flood impacts. Therefore, the less sensitive one is the one who has more experiences and a stronger relation with other people within the neighborhood.

200 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

This sensitivity measurement contrasts with the area-based approach that usually considers the lack of infrastructure or the natural condition of the area where people live. In the flood context, poor drainage, lack of a water pond, a low-lying coastal area, and muddy beaches contribute to sensitivity to floods. The life-world analysis uses people’s assessment of their own weakness in responding to floods. It certainly is a subjective value, but since they share the value with each other, it thus becomes their common understanding in assessing the sensitivity of people. Kampung residents believe that sensitivity can be reduced with practice and with additional knowledge gleaned from other people’s stories. They can learn from the past or from their predecessors to overcome the circumstances that created their sensitivity. On the other hand, the adaptive people should know how to respond to recurrent floods. Their creativity has emerged from their reflective practices from their previous actions and is derived from their shared knowledge. The local innovation on the adaptation is constituted through trial and error when they keep their houses and neighborhoods safe from inundation. Those experiences enable them to be self-reliant by making both themselves and their settlement resilient. Therefore, we argue that the adaptive people are the ones who have had intensive flood experiences and can capitalize on those experiences to reduce their level of vulnerability. Unlike the other vulnerability assessments that use social and economic modality, life-world analysis helps to reveal the lived experiences of the flood-affected people as intangible properties of knowledge to determine the level of their adaptive capacity. Kampung residents have demonstrated that they can use the flood to open a tiny loophole that allows them to survive or even to generate an income. For example, they have learned to choose escape routes, find shelters, build preventive facilities, and organize neighborhood cooperation. Those practices have transformed the people of kampung mentally and physically to treat the flood only as an ordinary event. In fact, they can be an adapter if the utilization of their stock of knowledge is higher than the level of exposure and sensitivity. Therefore, the individual’s life-world is the domain for increasing his or her adaptive capacity and having a transformative adaptation. Measuring flood-related vulnerability by using life-world analysis would allow the self-comparison of flood-affected people. The self-comparison is used to measure the level of exposure, sensitivity, and adaptive capacity of one individual against that of others. The level of vulnerability can be lowered if the increase in their adaptive capacity can outweigh the level of exposure and sensitivity. However, the level can also stay the same or

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

201

Figure 8.4 Calculating the number of vulnerable people

decrease if the residents have little or no experience in adapting to the big flood. Therefore, the level of vulnerability is a dynamic and changeable status that depends on the lived experiences and the social relations of individuals. At kampung level, measuring the state of flood-related vulnerability should aggregate the value of self-reflection of flood-affected people (see Figure 8.4). The adaptive capacity plays a significant role in defining the state of vulnerability. The value of adaptive capacity is the function of lived experiences and social relation (equation 1). The person who has high exposure and sensitivity, but low adaptive capacity is categorized as vulnerable (equation 2). The total number of vulnerable people in a kampung can be determined by the sum of vulnerable people (equation 3). This approach would provide more accurate information on how many vulnerable people are in a kampung, rather than estimating the number of people by using the statistical number of people who reside in a vulnerable area. Because not all of the urban poor who live in a vulnerable area are vulnerable – as shown in this chapter, every one living in a kampung has a different level of vulnerability. However, this approach has limitations in terms of identifying the vulnerable at city level. What we can learn from both kampung case studies is that measuring the vulnerability of flood-affected people cannot be generalized. An assumption that residents of a vulnerable place are themselves vulnerable will just give misleading information. This study demonstrates that the repeated practices of kampung residents in experiencing floods have created a stock of knowledge for them to understand their state of vulnerability. By using life-world analysis, we can reveal and utilize the tacit knowledge of the urban poor. This knowledge production is significant in setting the baseline for measuring the level of vulnerability. This knowledge is also useful in contextualizing the meaning of flood-related vulnerability. The

202 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

way in which kampung residents measure their vulnerability shows that the urban poor have their own creative coping strategies. They have recognized floods as a part of life. The shift in meaning assigned to flooding has oriented their adaptation options to live with the flood, rather than attempting to keep a distance from them or limit the magnitude of the floods. They prefer adapting their houses to leaving the kampung; they prefer staying to evacuation, and they prefer cleaning up to prevent mud and garbage from flowing into their neighborhood. These habits explain why relocation programs have generally failed. It thus creates more formidable challenges in managing the urban environment in Jakarta, which has more than 600 kampungs. However, using life-world analysis to measure the state of vulnerability depends on the capability of kampung residents to apply self-censoring to their living places. Based on both case studies, it is recognized that even though the temporal dimension of their life-world has been examined, we found that the future perspective of residents is limited in the short-term basis. The residents should be aware of the innovation and technology that could be used to help them assess flood exposure and develop future flood scenarios. For instance, an early-warning system that uses a cell phone application could enrich residents’ stock of knowledge on flood exposure. Therefore, there should be a toolkit that could connect and synchronize traditional and modern knowledge in order to assess their flood-related vulnerability. In addition to language barriers, the hybridization of the urban poor and experts’ knowledge results in different scales of measurement. The life-world of the urban poor that is limited by their everyday life activities drives them to measure vulnerability on the human scale. Meanwhile, the experts use various means of acquiring spatial data that can lead them to assess the vulnerability in a macroscale. As cities grow quickly and the climate changes significantly, urban residents will have to find more ways to reduce their vulnerability. It also requires cities to support the communities to measure the state of vulnerability because they can define who is vulnerable and who is an adapter.

Summary and further discussion First, integrating local knowledge into the vulnerability assessment has been evolving in global discourse for decades. As stated in the SREX report (IPCC 2012) and the Global Platform Consultations report on “Post-2015 Framework

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

203

for Disaster Risk Reduction (HFA2)” (UNISDR 2013), local knowledge complements scientific assessment. Even though locally embedded knowledge is often underestimated and even ignored in vulnerability assessments, it can aid in survival and adaptation, especially to irregularly changing environments (cf. Antweiler 2004). This chapter shows that the life-world analysis can reveal particular stocks of knowledge of flood-affected people as a basis for vulnerability measurement. On this scale, the ecological and sociospatial approaches come with limitations for downscaling to the community level. Therefore, the life-world analysis is potentially useful. Second, for delta cities, such as Jakarta, that have been flooding for centuries, a great deal of knowledge has evolved and been embedded in their residents, especially the urban poor who live in the floodplain. The intergenerational experiences of the floods have shaped the images of the city. The life history of flood-affected people has engaged with, and cannot be separated from, the floods. This knowledge is continuously embedded in the realm of the urban poor that is totally different to the technical knowledge of the experts who are trying to solve the flood problems. Therefore, the future image of Jakarta without floods is difficult to reconcile with the realm of the urban poor. Third, Jakarta – as one of the megacities of Asia – has been developed through dualism between informal and formal urbanization (Jieming and Simarmata 2015). The kampung as a product of urban informality needs to be incorporated into city development. Even though kampungs are associated with urban poverty and usually face significant environmental risks, to a certain extent, the kampung residents can manage the risks based on the stock of knowledge they have acquired. The city should not implant a new method to reduce the level of vulnerability of their residents, but should capitalize on the residents’ stock of adaptive knowledge. Fourth, the case study of KMB and KKM has shown that a kampung has its own stock of knowledge to offer to measure the vulnerability of its inhabitants and infrastructures. Based on the experiential knowledge, they increase their self-censoring ability. The kampung has performed as an idea generator, fostered pragmatic adopters, and produced the creative adapters that invent the local measurement tool that fits the residents’ language, lifestyle, and informality. Yet, it is still premature to conclude that a kampung has enough modality to be resilient. What we know so far is that the kampung will have no future if there is no support from the government to translate the experiential knowledge and incorporate it into the urban development pathway. The knowledge that is constituted in kampung residents is an asset for the city in grappling with future challenges.

204 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

Fifth, as mentioned by numerous scholars, the challenge for urban development in Asia is how to manage rapid urbanization along the coasts that are more vulnerable than ever to climate change. We propose that cities can measure the state of vulnerability by drawing on the experiential knowledge that is embedded in the urban poor, before attempting to develop adaptation strategies. It is also highly recommended to start from sharpening the self-censoring ability of kampung residents to increase the adaptive capacity at the community level. Sixth, the ability to institutionalize this knowledge at the city level and synchronize it with technical urban planning practice is the way to address future urbanization and climate-related challenges. We should investigate how local communities can upscale the stock of their knowledge to the city level, and how synchronization between technical and local knowledge stocks can be facilitated and bear fruit. Thus, following this study, a possible area of research is to examine the urban governance mechanism used to create an enabling environment for transformative adaptation that occurs at kampung level.

Acknowledgements The lead author would like to thank the International Secretariat of START and the Indonesian Association of Planners (IAP) for providing financial and technical assistances during fieldwork carried out in 2012 and 2013, the researchers of the PICAS (Planning of Integrated Coastal Adaptation Strategies for North Jakarta) project, including Adriadi Dimastanto, Raka Suryandaru, Dani Muttaqin for their assistance, and the Research Center of Urban and Regional Studies in the Center for Global and Strategic Studies, Universitas Indonesia, for supporting data collection. Thanks also go to the EMERSA project for facilitating a symposium in which the discussion in this chapter was sharpened.

References Abidin, Hasanuddin Z., Heri Andreas, Rochman Djaja, Duddy Darmawan, and Mohammad Gamal. 2008. “Land Subsidence Characteristics of Jakarta between 1997 and 2005, as Estimated Using GPS Surveys.” Journal of Global Navigation Satellite Systems 12: 23-32.

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

205

Antweiler, Christoph. 2004. “Local Knowledge Theory and Methods: An Urban Model from Indonesia.” In Investigating Local Knowledge: New Directions, New Approaches, ed. Alan Bicker, Paul Sillitoe, and Johan Pottier. Farnham: Ashgate, 3-5. Bankoff, Greg, Georg Frerks, and D.J.M. Hilhorst. 2004. Mapping Vulnerability: Disaster, Development and People. London: Earthscan. Belarminus, Robertus. 2013. “Tanpa Pompa, banjir di pluit baru surut 7 hari.” Kompas, 23 January. http://megapolitan.kompas.com/read/2013/01/20/22123562/ Tanpa.Pompa.Banjir.di.Pluit.Baru.Surut.7.Hari. Bengtsson, J., R. Hargreaves, and I.C. Page. 2007. “Assessment of the Need to Adapt Buildings in New Zealand to the Impacts of Climate Change.” Branz Study Report No. 179. Branz. http://www.branz.co.nz/cms_show_download.php?id=af3b6b2 02e83011d176ec5e8f9b58de4ce2ac882. Berger, Peter L. and Thomas Luckmann. 1967. The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge. London: Penguin. Birkmann, Jörn. 2006. Measuring Vulnerability to Natural Hazards: Towards Disaster-Resilient Societies. Tokyo: UNU Press. Bogardi, Janos J., and Jörn Birkmann. 2004. “Vulnerability Assessment: The First Step towards Sustainable Risk Reduction.” In Disasters and Society: From Hazard Assessment to Risk Reduction, ed. D. Malzahn and T. Plapp. Berlin: Logos Verlag, 75-82. Bogardi, Janos J., J.C. Villagrán, Jörn Birkmann, Fabrice Renaud, Dušan Sakulski, Xe Chen, Bastian Affeltranger, A. Mensa, and Marcus Kaplan. 2005. “Vulnerability in the Context of Climate Change.” Presented at the Human Security and Climate Change international workshop, Asker, Norway, 21-23 June. Brinkmann, Jan Jaap. 2012. “Flood Risk Management and Urban Resilience: Excellent Opportunities for Jakarta.” Paper presented at Integrated GOI-GON Delta Approach on Jakarta, Jakarta Coastal Development Study (JCDS) Project, Jakarta, Indonesia, 2 May. Cardona, Omar Dario. 2004. “The Need for Rethinking the Concepts of Vulnerability and Risk from a Holistic Perspective: A Necessary Review and Criticism for Effective Risk Management.” In Mapping Vulnerability: Disasters, Development and People, ed. G. Bankoff, G. Frerks, and D. Hillhorst. London: Earthscan, 37-51. Christmann, Gabriela, Oliver Ibert, Heiderose Kilper, and Timothy Moss. 2012. “Vulnerability and Resilience from a Socio-Spatial Perspective: Towards a Theoretical Framework.” Working Paper No. 45, Leibniz Institute for Regional Development and Structural Planning. Ehlert, Judith. 2012. “‘We Observe the Weather Because We Are Farmers’: Weather Knowledge and Meteorology in the Mekong Delta, Vietnam.” In Environmental Uncertainty and Local Knowledge Southeast Asia as a Laboratory of Global

206 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

Ecological Change, ed. Anna-Katharina Hornidge and Christoph Antweiler. Biefeld: Verlag, 119-144. Firman, Tommy, Indra M. Surbakti, Ichzar C. Idroes, and Hendricus Andy Simar­ mata. 2011. “Potential Climate-Change Related Vulnerabilities in Jakarta: Challenges and Current Status.” Habitat International 35(2): 372-378. Friedmann, John. 1984. “Agropolitan Development: A Territorial Approach to Meeting Basic Needs.” In People Center Development: Contributions towards Theory and Planning Framework, ed. David Korten and Rudi Klauss. West Hartford: Kumarian Press, 210-239. Fuchs, Roland J. 2010. “Cities at Risks: Asia’s Coastal Cities in an Age of Climate Change.” Working paper. East-West Center, July. Gran, Guy. 1983. Development by People: Citizen Construction of a Just World. New York: Praeger. Hornidge, Anna-Katharina, and Fabian Scholtes. 2012. “Climate Change and Everyday Life in Toineke Village, West Timor: Uncertainties, Knowledge and Adaptation.” Sociologus 61(2): 151-175. IPCC. 2012. Managing the Risks of Extreme Events and Disasters to Advance Climate Change Adaptation [SREX]: A Special Report of Working Groups I and II of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, ed. C.B. Field, V. Barros, T.F. Stocker, D. Qin, D.J. Dokken, K.L. Ebi, M.D. Mastrandrea, K.J. Mach, G.-K. Plattner, S.K. Allen, M. Tignor, and P.M. Midgley. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jellinek, Lea. 1999. “Kampung Culture or Consumer Culture.” In Consuming Cities: The Urban Environment in the Global Economy after Rio, ed. Nicholas Low, Brendan Glesson, Ingemar Elander, and Rolf Lidskog. London: Routledge, 265-280. Jieming, Zhu and Hendricus Andy Simarmata. 2015, “Formal Land Rights versus Informal Land Rights: Governance for Sustainable Urbanization in the Jakarta Metropolitan Region, Indonesia.” Land Use Policy Journal 43: 63-73. Kantor Kelurahan Penjaringan. 2013. Laporan tahunan 2012 Kelurahan Penjaringan Jakarta Utara. Jakarta: Pemerintah Provinsi DKI Jakarta. Kapuk Naga Indah. 2012. “Analisis Dampak Lingkungan (ANDAL) Reklamasi Pantai Kapuk Niaga Indah (Pulau 2A, 2B, dan 1).” https://crpg.info/docs/AMDAL/ amdal_cde.pdf. Kenworthy, J. 1997. “Urban Ecology in Indonesia: The Kampung Improvement Program (KIP).” Asian Sustainable Development, Murdoch University. Kompas. 2010. “Kampung di Jakarta.” 19 February. Korten, David C., and Rudi Klauss. 1984. People-Centered Development: Contributions toward Theory and Planning Frameworks. Hartford: Kumarian Press. Krausse, Gerald Hans. 1975. “The Kampungs of Jakarta, Indonesia: A Study of Spatial Patterns in Urban Poverty.” PhD diss., University of Pittsburgh.

Assessing Flood -Rel ated Vulner abilit y of the Urban Poor

207

Kuruppu, Natasha, and Diana Liverman. 2011. “Mental Preparation for Climate Adaptation: The Role of Cognition and Culture in Enhancing Adaptive Capacity of Water Management in Kiribati.” Global Environmental Change 21(2): 657-669. Marcussen, Lars. 1990. Third World Housing in Social and Spatial Development: The Case of Jakarta. Aldershot: Avebury. National Agency for Disaster Management. 2014. “Data Dijital Bencana Indonesia (DIBI).” Jakarta, BNPB. O’Brien, Geoff, and Phil O’Keefe. 2014. Managing Adaptation to Climate Risk: Beyond Fragmented Responses. New York: Routledge. O’Neill, Saffron J., and John Handmer. 2012. “Responding to Bushfire Risk: The Need for Transformative Adaptation.” Environmental Research Letters 7(1): 014018. DOI: 10.1088/1748-9326/7/1/014018. Oberkircher, Lisa, and Anna‐Katharina Hornidge. 2011. “‘Water Is Life’: Farmer Rationales and Water Saving in Khorezm, Uzbekistan: A Life-world Analysis.” Rural Sociology 76(3): 394-421. Olsson, Per. 2003. “Building Capacity for Resilience in Social-Ecological Systems.” PhD thesis, Stockholm University Schutz, Alfred, and Thomas Luckmann. 1974. The Structures of the Life-World, trans. Richard M. Zaner and H. Tristram Engelhardt, Jr. London: Heinemann. Sentosa, Awanda. 2010. “Social Economic Vulnerability as Result of Sea Level Rise in the Penjaringan Sub-district, North Jakarta (Case Study: RW 01 Pluit).” MA thesis, Universitas Indonesia. Silas, Johan. 1993. A City of Partnership. Surabaya: Municipal Government of Surabaya. UN Habitat. 2003. The Challenge of Slums: Global Report on Human Settlements 2003. United Nations Human Settlement Programme. UNISDR. 2013. “Post-2015 Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction (HFA2): Report from 2013 Global Platform Consultations.” United Nations International Strategy for Disaster Reduction, October. https://www.unisdr.org/files/35070_hfa2consultationsgp2013report.pdf. Wisner, Ben, Piers Blaikie, Terry Cannon, and Ian Davis. 2004. “At Risk.” In Natural Hazards, People’s Vulnerability and Disasters, 2nd Ed. London: Routledge.

Biographies Hendricus Andy Simarmata (PhD) is an Indonesian certified urban planner who has eighteen years of experience in research, consultancy, and advocacy in the field of sustainable urban development. He serves as acting head of research at the Center of Urban and Regional Studies, School of Strategic and Global Studies, Universitas Indonesia (PRPW-UI).

208 HENDRICUS ANDY SIMARMATA, ANNA-K ATHARINA HORNIDGE & CHRISTOPH ANTWEILER

Anna-Katharina Hornidge (PhD) is Professor of Development and Know­ ledge Sociology, University of Bremen, as well as head of the Department of Social Sciences and of the Development and Knowledge Sociology working group at the Leibniz Centre for Tropical Marine Research (ZMT). Christoph Antweiler (PhD) is a cultural anthropologist and Professor of Southeast Asian Studies at the Institute for Oriental and Asian Studies (IOA), University of Bonn, Germany. He is a board member of the Bonn Center for Asian Studies (BAZ) and a member of Academia Europea (London).

9

The Ecological Future of Cities Evaluating the Role of Green Infrastructure in Promoting Sustainability/Resilience in India Ian Mell Abstract Development in India is placing excessive stresses on the ability of urban landscapes to provide sociocultural and ecological benefits. The rate of development can be seen to support economic prosperity as its primary goal, which has limited the ability of government, and the environment sector, to invest time and/or funding in green infrastructure (GI). To evaluate whether this process can be mitigated, Ahmedabad and the New Delhi National Capital Region (NCR) are discussed to establish whether an ecological networks perspective to development offers valid solutions. It proposes that an ecological networks perspective, grounded in GI theory and practice, can provide alternative investment/management mechanisms to invest in more sustainable forms of urban development. Keywords: green infrastructure, landscape planning, urban development, city management

Introduction The current rate of urban growth witnessed in India, approximately an 18% increase between 2001 and 2011, suggests that expansion will continue year on year (Ministry of Home Affairs 2011). As a result, each of the major urban centers of India (including the “big four” of Mumbai, New Delhi, Kolkata, and Chennai) have seen a dramatic increase in their urban composition (McKinsey Global Institute 2010). The outcome of which has been an increasing reliance on changing land use, i.e., from agricultural or open space to housing, which has, in many cases, seen the conversion of environmental

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch09

210 Ian Mell

resources into built infrastructure to meet transportation, commercial, and industrial land use needs. One consequence of this process has been the downplaying of concepts such as landscape ecology, and includes a lack of reflection on the capa­ city of environmental resources to mitigate the fluctuating functionality of the landscape (Williams 2010). Closely tied to this process is a partial acknowledgment of how redevelopment of ecological resources into urban/ built infrastructure places additional stresses on the remaining land which may limit its ability to cope with growth (Williams 2010; Middleton and O’Keefe 2001). The efficiency of urban environments is therefore being compromised as ecological networks continue to be converted to other uses. To address the potential impacts of a continual “graying” of the environment, Green Infrastructure (GI) planning has been proposed as offering a range of adaptive investment solutions to establish more resilient cities (Hellmund and Smith 2006). The following chapter discusses the evolution of an alternative approach to the existing economic “concretization” of urban development, placing the environment at the center of this debate rather than at the periphery. Currently, development is focussed primarily on delivering infrastructure quickly without due consideration of the environmental impacts of land use change. Growth, in many cases, is therefore shorthand for expansion beyond social and ecological limits. The consequences of an alternative ecological proposal include a reframing of existing development debates to think more critically about how we plan and manage our cities in respect of the contribution that GI can make. Such a discussion also examines the multifunctionality debates inherent to GI, reflecting on whether as a concept and an approach to investment it offers solutions to promote long-term urban sustainability (Mell 2010; Benedict and McMahon 2006; Beatley 2000). Assessing the impacts of growth from a GI perspective provides urban planners with an ecologically focussed approach to development through which they can promote an increased quality of life, place and environment for residents, businesses, and environmental managers. It also enables them to reassess the value of establishing an ecologically sensitive framework for urban development compared to the existing predominance of engineered solutions (Rouse and Bunster-Ossa 2013). However, if such proposals continue to be ignored there is a very real possibility that Asian cities, and specifically the growing number of million-plus cities in India, will continue to overconsume their environmental resources beyond their recovery capacity (Merk et al. 2012; Siemens AG 2011). In the long-term this could lead to major problems with the provision of services based on ecological resources

The Ecological Future of Cities

211

(i.e., water supply and pollution control), but could also lead to a growing public disillusionment facilitating further mistrust within development and planning debates (Roy 2009). To address this issue the following chapter presents a discussion of how an ecological network perspective to development – which examines the current mechanisms underpinning urban growth in India – may offer solutions. By exploring the existing structures and processes supporting development, it proposes the utility of an alternative ecologically and network-focussed approach to expansion. Working from an assumption that ecological resources provide interconnected spatial networks promoting landscape resilience, this chapter proposes that GI planning can be used as a basis for a more sustainable approach to investment (Walker and Salt 2006). This is a timely discussion given the pressures being placed upon Indian cities which, in many cases, have struggled to find a balance between urban development and sustainable resource management (Datta 2012; McKinsey Global Institute 2010). It also comes at a juncture where the Indian government announced in May 2014, INR 7060 core (approximately $1.2 billion dollars) of funding to support investment in one hundred “smart cities,” which it is hoped will include a GI/ecological resilience dimension. What follows argues that if GI networks are, firstly, understood, and, secondly, used as the starting point for development discussions, that a more nuanced form of urban management can be achieved (Hansen and Pauleit 2014; Ahern 2013). To examine this, the cities of Ahmedabad and New Delhi in the National Capital Region (NCR) are presented as examples of current GI investment highlighting the complexity of this process and illustrating the difficulties in establishing equilibrium between rapid development and effective environmental management. These two locations have been selected as they are subject to similar expansion narratives based on population growth and economic expansion, as they act as regional and national magnets for growth. Development in both cities is also contextualized within comparable political structures with strong and, in the views of many commentators, effective Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) leadership shaping the development of both cities.1 As a consequence, the nature of GI investment shows similarities in the design, location and programming of projects, such as the Sabarmati and Yamuna riverfronts, as the chapter will discuss. 1 The election of Narendra Modi as prime minister of India extends this link as prior to taking national office Modi was the chief minister of Gujarat, the state of which Ahmedabad is the economic and technological hub.

212 Ian Mell

Furthermore, although both locations indicate a number of comparable political, social, and environmental influences, an evaluation of each highlights the potential for a transferability of experiences between locations to be made (Mell 2013b; Kalia 2004). Adapting an ecological framework to shape the nature of development in India could therefore offer solutions for planners to think more strategically about how they develop sustainable Indian cities.

Urban development in India According to the 2011 Census of India the rate of growth in India cities is slowing (McKinsey Global Institute 2010). However, it is estimated that by 2030, 590 million people (compared to 340 million in 2011) will live in urban areas, and that by 2050 the country’s urban population will rise to 700 million – approximately 40% of the nation’s population (Ministry of Home Affairs 2011). Such growth places increasing pressures on existing urban infrastructure, including housing, transportation, and utilities provision, which are failing to cope with both the existing and the projected demands of development (Kundu 2001). To meet these needs, the central government as well as city administrations have explored different models of expansion, such as the building of urban extensions (including satellite towns) and, more recently, the promotion of smart cities (Datta 2014). Each of these policies could be considered to present a reactionary rather than a proactive form of planning, however. Partly, this is due to the “policy confusion” of legislative authority witnessed in Indian development debates where competing development mandates often prove to be contradictory, but are also representative of the growth first policy of expansion (Rao and Bird 2010). Therefore, although Indian cities need to plan more strategically, they are potentially constrained by an institutional paralysis or malaise that fails to align the rhetoric of rapid urban change with environmental sustainability (Mell and Sturzaker 2014; Roy 2009). As a consequence, the McKinsey Global Institute (2010, 4) stated that: The choices that India makes to manage the process of urbanization will have profound consequences for its people and economic future. But the approaches India’s policy-makers take will have much broader resonances beyond its own borders.

Indian cities thus need to reflect upon the relationship between growth, infrastructure provision, and a longer-term strategic vision for development.

The Ecological Future of Cities

213

One option proposed by The McKinsey Global Institute argues that the flexibility identif ied between people, place, and the economy in India could act as a key facilitator promoting a managerial/policy shift in how its cities are managed (2010, 13). However, to meet these challenges a range of influences need to be evaluated to assess where barriers to effective growth, as well as, opportunities for more sustainable development exist. Several issues can be identified as directly impacting upon this process, including: – the physical resource base that a given city uses to situate its growth; – the social needs of the population (i.e., housing, education, medical facilities) and the impact of demographic change (i.e., transportation infrastructure and capacity, utility provision); – the economic viability of investing in sustainable urban infrastructure; – the process of branding development toward “world-class” investment opportunities; – the political will of politicians at all scales to balance economic growth with community needs; Establishing a balance between these issues is fraught with complications that are exacerbated by the complexity of patronage (including discussions of cronyism and corruption) witnessed in Indian development debates (Roy 2009). As a consequence, the management of urban expansion in India is reported as being mired by accusations of inappropriate governance and the mishandling of finances. Conceptualizations of “effective” urban governance debates, therefore, appear to be under constant scrutiny from the legislator, the academy, and the public (Roy 2009; Baud and Dhanalakshmi 2007). Furthermore, it has been proposed that a lack of centralized political support or capital financing from the government has aggravated the negative impacts of this process2 (Merk et al. 2012; McKinsey Global Institute 2010). Investment in urban areas has received high-profile funding from the government through the Jawaharlal Nehru National Urban Renewal Mission (JNNURM). From the mid-2000s until 2014, the JNNURM was used to invest in essential urban infrastructure (i.e., utilities, transportation, and housing), to promote public-private partnerships (PPPs), and latterly facilitate private investment. Unfortunately, some commentators viewed this process as opening the floodgates for external stakeholders to disproportionally influence planning practices (Mahadevia 2011). 2 It has been reported that the government spends $17 per capita in India. That figure is $166 in China and $139 in the UK.

214 Ian Mell

All of which makes reacting strategically to urban change difficult in India. For example, the New Delhi National Capital Region (NCR) highlights this with the building of satellite cities, such as Dwarka and Gurgaon, without integrating essential transportation, water, and utilities infrastructure at the start of the development process (Chatterji 2013). Furthermore, in Mumbai the redevelopment of informal settlements for housing has led to evictions and protests, while in Bengaluru and Hyderabad the pace of urban growth has led to extensive urban coalescence and a diminishing GI footprint (Fernandes 2004; George et al. 2008; Nagendra et al. 2012). These ongoing issues are not, however, totally entrenched, but they do require a more coordinated approach to investment, which is holistic in nature and strategic in its overview.

Rethinking urban development from an “ecological” perspective Within the arguments of how the environment has become increasingly commodified there is a corresponding debate focusing on the parameters of what constitutes sustainable urban development (Peet and Watts 2002). This reflects the need to integrate social, economic, and environmental interpretations of landscape collectively to arrive at the most appropriate form of growth. However, there have been a number of critiques of this process questioning whether the established triumvirate of sustainable development is actually deliverable (Guy and Marvin 1999; Middleton and O’Keefe 2001). Those who questioned this assumption argue that despite the presumptions in favor of an integrated approach to development, we invariably witness a predominately economic emphasis for investment in practice. Such proposals suggest that the inclusion of a fourth pillar into this debate, political influence, is necessary as economic growth is explicitly linked to political and governance mandates (Drèze and Sen 2013; Bryant and Bailey 1997). Such a political dimension has been debated within the political ecology literature (cf. Peet and Watts 2002; Robbins 2012), exploring conflicts over transparency, access to resources and government/nongovernment relationships (Keivani 2010; Williams 2010; Jepson 2001). They are also becoming increasingly important to our understanding of how landscapes, society, and the politics of development/environment interact. This may not in, and of itself, hinder the delivery of sustainable forms of development, but it does shape the discussion of environmental management in India (Mahadevia 2011). Therefore, if we deconstruct the concept of sustainable development

The Ecological Future of Cities

215

into its component parts, we can reframe how we view urban development and potentially generate a more integrated and nuanced approach. For the purpose of this chapter such a rationale is used to promote an ecological perspective of development, but one that delivers a multifaceted range of socioeconomic benefits. Recently, this debate has progressed illustrating how the promotion of “resilience,” rather than sustainability, may be a more appropriate mechanism to ensure an integrated approach to urban planning (Walker and Salt 2006). Resilience can take a number of forms, including: promoting ecological capacity through networks to adapt cities to extreme climatic changes (Baviskar 2011), providing diverse economic opportunities for all citizens to mitigate the impacts of economic fluctuations (McKinsey Global Institute 2010), or by responding to changing sociodemographic needs through investment in infrastructure and social programs (Walker and Salt 2006). Resilience thinking also implies that change will occur (naturally or through human intervention), and that the actions of government and other stakeholders are key influences on this process (Walker and Salt 2006). However, it also argues that although there is a need to acknowledge change, there is also a need to establish subtler forms of ecologically focused management to ensure functionality of landscapes (Ahern 2013). Assessing urban development from a resilience and ecological network perspective enables this discussion to be framed against the normative, i.e., “reactive and economically” driven investment currently visible in India (Datta 2012). Furthermore, by reflecting on development in Ahmedabad and New Delhi NCR it is possible to explore whether the process of growth can be redrawn toward an ecological perspective.

Green infrastructure and ecological networks As a response to the discussion presented above it has been suggested that GI can moderate the impacts of development through a more holistic understanding of the complementary nature of ecological networks (Mell 2010). However, to fully engage with such a proposition, planners need to understand the principles that support GI and ecological networks, if they are to utilize these concepts effectively. Green infrastructure is an approach to planning that identif ies environmental resources as the “life-support” system for human livelihoods (Benedict and McMahon 2006). It argues that if managed effectively, ecological resources provide a platform where multifunctionality can

216 Ian Mell

be delivered, without compromising the integrity of the environment resource base (Natural England 2009). Furthermore, GI promotes a symbiotic view of the landscape which highlights the importance of maintaining existing human-environmental relationships to promote landscape resilience (Mell 2010). A number of practitioners have also noted that GI is sympathetic to normative economic discussions of landscape value, however, advocates place equal emphasis on conservation and longer-term sustainable resource management, as they do on economic growth (cf. Mell et al. 2013). Ecological networks can be considered as the physical manifestation of GI. They are systems of spaces located within, and across, the landscape which are linked through a varied series of environmental elements, offering a range of provisioning, regulating, cultural and supporting services that promote the conservation of ecological resources (Forman 1995). Drawing on aspects of landscape ecology and ecosystem services, ecological networks employ links (corridors), hubs (large sites) and nodes (smaller connecting) to form integrated and supportive networks (Farina 2006). They also function at a number of scales from discreet localized sites to broader landscape scale systems (i.e., waterways or greenways) (Ahern 1995). The value of GI and ecological networks in urban areas is therefore based on the spatial distribution of resources, which integrate ecological systems into the spatial distribution of urban areas (Ahern 2013).3 The rationale for using these approaches to urban development is one of necessity. As noted previously, the rate of expansion in India is superseding the ability of the landscape to cope with change. The “graying” of ecological resources through a process of concretization, changing land use and engineered solutions to natural processes has facilitated a series of fractures within ecological systems, and as a consequence calls into question the ability of the resources to function effectively (Manthur 2012; Goode 2006). Taking a GI approach to urban development thus posits that growth can be managed more efficiently by promoting landscape multifunctionality as a guiding development principle. Despite the historical underuse of 3 GI as an approach to planning, and ecological networks as a delivery mechanism, can be identified within the urban footprint of any city and are considered one of the many layers of investment needed to develop a sustainable built environment (Allen 2012; Hellmund and Smith 2006; Lerner and Allen 2012; Mell 2010). In the context of this chapter, the urban footprint is the boundary of a given urban area controlled by the administrative development authority of the city or location (Breuste et al. 2008; Schrijnen 2000). This can be extended if the city has an identifiable interaction with the surrounding environment, i.e., Ahmedabad-Gandhinagar, to form a subregion based on spatial coalescence.

The Ecological Future of Cities

217

GI, 4 there is a growing literature which attempts to apply its principles (cf. Chaturvedi et al. 2013; Chaudhry, Bagra, and Singh 2011; Nagendra and Gopal 2010; Tarafdar and Bjønness 2010; Zérah 2007). However, to date, no single study has effectively been able to bring together an understanding of development with the guiding principles of ecological networks and GI. The following sections examine these arguments assessing the potential value of GI practices to the planning of Indian cities.

Urban development and strategic ecological planning Facilitating a shift in emphasis from economically focussed growth to a more holistic use of ecological principles is fraught with difficulties. The lack of socioeconomic value placed on ecological resources, coupled with the need to maintain growth rates, has limited the ability of environmental organizations to facilitate an effective dialogue between planners, developers, and the government in India (Drèze and Sen 2013). To assess whether it is feasible to rethink development from an ecological perspective, two case studies are presented highlighting how greener and more ecologically focussed development can be, and is being, applied. Ahmedabad and the New Delhi NCR have been selected to discuss these issues as they are both currently subject to rapid expansion, although at different scales. Both have also recently published development plans outlining their programs of expansion to at least 2021 (Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority 2013; Delhi Development Authority 2007), and are engaged in development that promotes the use of GI. This use of GI can, therefore, be considered as a response to the changing land use, which has led the drafters of development plans to argue that quality of life can be improved if “greener” forms of urban growth are utilized (Nagendra et al. 2012; Balooni et al. 2011). In support of their selection both Ahmedabad and New Delhi can be considered to act as contemporary laboratories for GI investment. As noted above each city has strong BJP leadership which has engaged with the discussions of environmental management and sustainable development to promote a more integrated approach to strategic planning. As a result, the development plans produced in both cities state that they will support development in city-scale GI resources. This, they argue, reflects a growing 4 GI is a relatively new concept but draws on a number of historical approaches to landscape and green space planning (see Mell 2010).

218 Ian Mell

realization within the Gujarat and the central government that a green, functionally and aesthetically attractive urban landscape will attract investment and promote livability (Mell 2015). While it would be unwise to suggest that the investment landscape for GI in both cities is 100% positive, they do illustrate how normative planning practices can be adapted from a growth-first rhetoric to a more integrated greener and prosperous form of development. How GI is being developed in Ahmedabad and New Delhi, thus, provides indicators of which landscape practices other Indian cities can learn from.

Ecological networks in Ahmedabad Ahmedabad is the largest city in the state of Gujarat with a population of 5.1 million within the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation (AMC) boundary, and 6.3 million in the wider metropolitan area (Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority 2013). It is the economic and industrial hub of the state and holds the most significant relationship with India’s megacities.5 The city developed in stages, moving progressively south and west from the walled city creating its circular urban form. The city is also split north-south by the Sabarmati River. The older walled city lies on the eastern bank of the Sabarmati, while the newer urban expansions are to the west. The city’s development is managed by the AMC, with the wider area being controlled through the Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority (AUDA) development plan. It has been estimated that the population of the AMC area could rise to over 7 million by 2030 (Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority 2013). In response, the AUDA launched a consultation on the future development of the city, in which a substantial emphasis was placed on investment in GI. The AUDA and the AMC, therefore, appear to have taken positive steps to incorporate ecological principles within their overarching development strategy. This manifests itself through a visible emphasis being placed on the development of a city-wide GI network. The development plan highlights four main GI investment options (along with other socioeconomic delivery goals): investment in street trees (road side and central reservations), the management of urban groves, enhancing 5 Ahmedabad is located in the Indian state-sponsored Delhi-Mumbai Industrial Corridor (DMIC) Project, which connects Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Maharashtra as a development and industrial zone (Datta 2012). See the chapter by Amogh Arakali and Jyothi Koduganti in this volume, which provides a more detailed discussion of the DMIC.

The Ecological Future of Cities

Figure 9.1 Location map of (A) India with key cities, map of (B) Sabarmati River and Ahmedabad, and (C) Yamuna River and New Delhi

Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

219

220 Ian Mell Figure 9.2 Sabarmati Riverfront

Photograph by the author

Figure 9.3 Riverfront Park

Photograph by the author

The Ecological Future of Cities

221

the city’s parks and gardens network, and revitalizing the Sabarmati Riverfront. The combination of these elements has been spatially applied within the plan to illustrate where and how the strategic priorities of AUDA and the AMC will be delivered. This highlights the linear connectivity of the Sabarmati River and forms a focal point for discussions of GI. The proposals (and current investment) in street trees also provide a spatially significant network of urban greening for the city, as both forms of investment provide key corridors between residential areas and urban green spaces, with the riverfront acting as a city-scale ecological hub. Investment in the riverfront and street trees thus acts as the spatial framework to deliver GI across the city. This is supported by the allocation of funding to improve the city’s lakes (i.e., Kankaria and Vastrapur), and invest in new green spaces, such as the Riverfront Park, as well as the more established Law and Parimal Gardens. Viewed as a collective network, these resources penetrate the city’s urban footprint providing sites for recreation and commercial enterprise, as well as mitigating the city’s changing climate. Sabarmati Riverfront Investment in the Sabarmati Riverfront is the principal GI development of the AMC and the AUDA.6 The project is promoted as being central to the economic growth of Ahmedabad and has, as a result, received extensive funding from the city and the state government.7 This has enabled the city to embark on an ambitious process of revitalization including the channelization of the river, the creation of an 11 km promenade along the riverfront (see Figure 9.1), and investment in several public parks located along the length of the Sabarmati (see Figure 9.2). Investments also include the planting of a large number of trees, grasses, and shrubs to help mitigate the climate of the city and establish the river as a key recreation-commercial destination. Spatially, investment in the river has supported improvements of this core linear feature, which acts as a hub linking the city’s other green spaces. Moreover, the development 6 In order to ensure a smooth transition from the city’s development plans, the AMC established the Sabarmati Riverfront Development Corporation (SRFDCL) to oversee the implementation process. 7 The land alongside each side of the Sabarmati River is owned by the Gujarat state government and has been gifted to the AMC and the AUDA to facilitate the development of the Riverfront project at zero cost to Ahmedabad (interviews with an AMC off icial, 25 June 2014, and an academic at the Indian Institute of Management Ahmedabad (IIMA), 24 June 2014).

222 Ian Mell

of two new parks has provided additional “stepping-stone” landscape features linking the “greening” of the river corridor with existing parks and gardens (i.e., Usmanpura Gardens or Victoria Gardens). The investment, though, has been criticized for a proposed lack of ecological diversity or “naturalness.” Furthermore, with investment in parks there have been corresponding accessibility restrictions due to entrance fees. The new parks could also be considered as examples of designed spaces that offer limited biodiversity to the city (compared to some of the established parks) because of the heavily manicured nature of its management, as Figure 9.2 highlights. Therefore, although the riverfront development has placed greater emphasis on opportunities to improve the green structure of the city, there are concerns over the small net added value of the ecological benefits of this process.8 Urban street trees The second priority of the AUDA’s development plan is a city-wide investment in street trees. The AUDA states that trees will be planted on all major city thoroughfares in an attempt to mitigate the effects of traffic pollution (see Figure 9.4). This policy has facilitated a program of planting that has “greened” the majority of the city’s main roads, but also provided additional canopy on smaller secondary transportation routes. The spatial connectivity of the city’s street pattern has, as a consequence, facilitated the planting of street trees to extend into each sector to provide wider GI coverage. Thus, the city’s street trees act as a key resource providing spatial coverage that promotes improvements in urban livability and ecological diversity. Furthermore, where trees have been removed to facilitate development they have been replaced onsite to ensure that the cumulative area of urban street trees is not diminished (Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority 2013).9 One of the main benefits of the city’s investment in street trees has been the increased proportion of Ahmedabad that can be considered part of its green network. However, they have also helped to address additional socioclimatic issues. Trees provide urban cooling and water interception, making the city more livable. It was also noted by the Sabarmati Riverfront Development Corporation Ltd. (SRFDCL) that the additional street trees made the city a more attractive place to invest.10 8 Discussed in an interview with an academic at IIMA, 24 June 2014. 9 Discussed in an interview with an AMC official, 25 June 2014. 10 Discussed in an interview with a representative of the SRFDCL office, 20 June 2014.

The Ecological Future of Cities

223

Figure 9.4 Street Trees on Ashram and SM Road

Photograph by the author

Lakes and existing green spaces While the investment program for the Sabarmati Riverfront and street trees are the main priorities of the development plan, the city’s lakes and existing parks system hold an equally important role in supporting the city’s ecological functionality. Ahmedabad has 42 key lakes in the AMC area, and 1500 bodies of water in the wider AUDA area, each of which has been identified as an element of the GI network of the city.11 Ecologically, this has enabled the AMC and the AUDA to establish a more effective form of water management, which proactively attempts to manage the changing climate of the city. Moreover, the additional environmental control facilitated by these investments has improved the amenity value of locations such as Kankaria and Vastrapur Lakes (Figure 9.5), as well as creating additional ecological diversity. The city’s approach to managing its water resources can thus be seen as an attempt to create a managed GI network, which provides greater control of the fluctuating climate of the city.12 11 Interview with a representative of the SRFDCL office, 20 June 2014. 12 Interview with a representative of AUDA, 23 July 2014.

224 Ian Mell

The AMC and the AUDA’s response to water management is also replicated in how they manage public open spaces. Although the city is not considered “green” as it has only 2% GI (Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority 2013), the AMC and the AUDA have continued to invest in the development of city-scale parks and gardens. However, despite the spatial distribution of these resources there are concerns that the gated management of some sites (see Figure 9.3), and the associated entrance fees in some locations, limit their value to local communities. Therefore, although the development and management of the city’s parks and gardens provide a network of ecological resources, they could also be considered to marginalize the accessibility and therefore awareness of nature of several socioeconomic groups. This has been exacerbated by the development of a new park associated with the riverfront redevelopment where the AMC/AUDA has created two riverfront parks on the Sabarmati River, which are maintained as destination parks.13 They do not, in the view of some commentators, provide fully accessible everyday sites for public use.14 Furthermore, the associated maintenance regime could be considered to limit the ecological potential of the sites due to the controlled nature of management and water use. As a consequence, although the city has established a network of parks and gardens creating a connected mosaic of ecological resources, the wider multifunctional value of the sites could be contested. A further critique of Ahmedabad’s ecological network suggests that it may appear to be spatially isolated in some sectors, as the city has promoted a clustering of sites. Examples including the Sabarmati Riverfront area, which has a number of additional parks located along its length, while the confluence of Chimanlal Girdharlal (CG) Road, Panchavati Road, and Netaji Road can be identified as a minor ecological hub as Parimal Gardens, Law Gardens, and Rasala Nature Park are all located in this sector of the city (see Figure 9.7). In contrast to the positive enhancement of the city’s GI, one potentially negative impact of the latest development plan has been the revocation of the city’s protective Green Belt designation. The AUDA stated15 that due to a combination of political and economic pressures, and continual unregulated (and thus illegal) development in the Green Belt, its “protected” status could no longer be guaranteed. As a consequence, the green ring that previously 13 The development of these parks was discussed in an interview with an AMC official, 25 June 2014. 14 Interview with an academic at IIMA, 24 June 2014. 15 Interview with a representative of AUDA, 23 July 2014.

The Ecological Future of Cities

225

Figure 9.5 Kankaria Lake

Photograph by the author

limited coalescence is now considered as a transitional expansion zone, particularly in the west of the city. A second criticism of Ahmedabad’s drive to improve the GI network has been the conflicts between existing land uses and the proposed redevelopment of the AUDA and the AMC areas. This process has been particularly evident with the investment program

226 Ian Mell Figure 9.6 Riverfront Park, Sabarmati River

Photograph by the author

Figure 9.7 Parimal Gardens

Photograph by the author

for the Sabarmati Riverfront.16 While the designation of the 11 km riverfront promenade and associated gardens has increased the overall percentage of GI in the city, it has displaced communities leading to a breakdown in some socioeconomic activities. Therefore, although the development of the 16 Interview with an academic at IIMA, 24 June 2014.

The Ecological Future of Cities

227

riverfront supports the enhancement of Ahmedabad’s ecological network, questions have been raised regarding the wider socioeconomic costs of investment (Manthur 2012; Mahadevia 2011).

Ecological networks in the New Delhi National Capital Region (NCR)17 In contrast to Ahmedabad, New Delhi (and the National Capital Region) is of national importance, because as the capital city of India, it is an economic, legislative, and political hub attracting migrants accordingly (Siemens AG 2011). New Delhi has a population of over 9 million within the New Delhi Development Corporation/Delhi Development Authority (NDDC/DDA) boundary, and an estimated 17 million people in the wider NCR area. New Delhi is also witnessing a rapid expansion in its periphery (the NCR) with the satellite cities of Dwarka, Ghaziabad, Gurgaon, and Noida outstripping expansion rates in many other Indian cities18 (Chatterji 2013; Narain 2009). Analysis of the city’s urban footprint illustrates that it has been subject to successive eras of investment with specif ic periods of development identifiable in the Old City (Old Delhi-Red Fort area), Lutyens New Delhi, and the extensions of the southern colonies (i.e., Greater Kaleash I and II), leading to considerable variation in the structure and layout of the city (Hall 2002). This has been superseded through the development of the satellite towns/extensions noted above (Delhi Development Authority 2007). Such expansion could be considered to lack a strategic overview of development, thus limiting the potential to future-proof the city’s environmental resource base. The development planning arena of New Delhi is framed by a dynamism that reflects the growing economy, shifting political will and diversifying social needs, all of which are situated within an increasingly constrained environmental context (McKinsey Global Institute 2010). In contrast to the normative economic growth agenda noted above within the latest development plan, the DDA has placed an increasing emphasis 17 The commentary presented in the following sections is drawn from a focus group conducted on 25 March 2013 with a representative of the Ministry of Forestry, the head of planning at the NDDC/DDA and a Gurgaon architect, as well as interviews with academics/practitioners conducted on 20-21 August 2014. 18 Interview with a representative of the Town & Country Planning Organisation (Ministry of Urban Development), 20 August 2104.

228 Ian Mell

on the value of the city/NCR’s environment (Delhi Development Authority 2007). Noting that the city has approximately 19% GI, the DDA propose that Delhi could be defined as a “green city” if it can make more effective use of the supportive ecological footprint of regional and city-scale sites.19 This is presented in the planning objectives of the Delhi Development Authority (2007, 195-196): A green network overlapping the blue network would protect the ecology of aquifers, and also provide a pleasant environment. Simple methods of site planning, which incorporate porous/semi permeable paving, drop inlet/down pipe, sediment trap, retention ponds, [etc.] will contribute in maintaining the ground water table.

Further details are presented in the development plan promoting an optimization of environmental resources to ensure that the capacity of the NCR’s landscape is not compromised. It notes that the conservation and enhancement of the landscape is of paramount importance to the creation of a livable city. This statement is developed further through a discussion of the role that GI can play in addressing climatic and pollution issues through investment in network resources (Delhi Development Authority 2007, 89). Within these discussions, the DDA has identified that approximately 20% of the city’s GI can be attributed to the Northern, Central and South Central Ridge area. The remaining 80% comprises community, district and city parks as well as large tracts of land located in the President’s Estate (and Parliament area), Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), the Indian Agricultural Research Institute (IARI), and the Delhi University campus. This suggests that although the Ridge area and the Yamuna River provide a regional-scale GI resource base that is accessible to the city and NCR’s population, not all GI elements have unrestricted access.20 It could also be argued that the DDA is overreliant on the regional-scale GI, and has, as a consequence, placed less emphasis on the development and funding of district or neighborhood sites. This interpretation is extended within the development plan as although it outlines a hierarchal system for the classification of the 19 The Town & Country Planning Organisation and Ministry of Urban Development (2014) propose a GI m 2 per person metric compared to the DDA’s overall percentage criteria. While this limits the comparability of “green city” discussions it does help to highlight that New Delhi and places including Greater Noida figure well in both assessments. 20 Interview with representatives of the School of Planning & Architecture (SPA, New Delhi), 21 August 2014.

The Ecological Future of Cities

229

city’s GI resources,21 there remain questions about whether the scale and location of these resources hold an influence on the allocation of funding. Furthermore, the implementation of this classification does not appear to be simple. The DDA do, however, just as the AMC and AUDA have attempted in Ahmedabad, propose several principal GI investments which they regard as central to the successful management of the city’s environment. Street tree investments in Delhi Street trees are promoted by the DDA as one of the easiest and most costeffective forms of GI investment available to citizens, the city’s government, and developers. Academics from the School of Planning & Architecture (SPA)22 and officials from the Ministry of Urban Development Town & Country Planning Organisation (TCPO)23 support this view, highlighting the positive role trees play in urban climate control, which is reflected in the growing concern of climate change discussions within policy, such as the Urban Development Plan Formulation & Implementation Guide (URDPFI). Investment in street trees also attempts to address the view that Delhi is overreliant on its regional scale network of GI resources, while overlooking localized changes and needs in GI coverage. The DDA’s promotion of a street tree awareness campaign is therefore seen as a mechanism to generate a greater sense of environmental responsibility among Delhi’s residents (see Figure 9.8). However, the rate of construction and the associated removal of street trees without replacements are still seen as major environmental concerns across the city. This is increasingly relevant in locations such as Dwarka, where the TCPO stated that GI provision is minimal, and, as such, the livability of the area is becoming compromised. This can be contrasted to the current extension of Greater Noida, which is subject to similar development constraints but hosts high levels of investment in GI – approximately 50% (cf. Town & Country Planning Organisation and Ministry of Urban Development 2014). One factor directly influencing this process is the regulation of deve­ lopment, and the ability of the DDA and the TCPO to manage competing investment needs. Both the SPA and the TCPO argued that although citywide 21 The hierarchy presented is as follows: (1) Green Belt (i.e., the Ridge area); (2) regional parks (i.e., Aravali Biodiversity Park, Gurgaon), city park (i.e., Lodi Gardens); (3) district park (i.e., Hauz Khas); (4) community parks and multipurpose grounds (Delhi Development Authority 2007). 22 Interview with representatives of SPA, 21 August 2014. 23 Interview with a senior official in the TCPO, 20 August 2014.

230 Ian Mell Figure 9.8 Promotion of street trees in New Delhi

Photograph by the author

Figure 9.9 Newspaper article criticizing street tree removal in New Delhi

Photograph by the author

The Ecological Future of Cities

231

and NCR-scale policy is explicitly environmentally focussed, there is a lack of compliance with environmental mandates in some areas, i.e., Dwarka.24 The impact of this has been a dislocation between the rhetoric of policy and actual implementation. This has undermined the focus of the DDA’s policy, as environmental resources are being utilized to generate economic and social benefits, not to explicitly maintain ecological functions.25 Therefore, even though the DDA stated that it plans to ensure that at least 15% of all urban extensions can be classified as GI, this appears to be undermined by a lack of engagement with ecological and sustainability agendas by developers. Yamuna River redevelopment A second example of varying GI investment in Delhi is the regeneration of the Yamuna Riverfront to replicate the development process of the Sabarmati Riverfront in Ahmedabad.26 The DDA development plan outlines ambitious proposals for the redevelopment of the area, including the clearing of informal settlements to assist the establishment of new leisure facilities. Currently, policy dictates that development on the flood plain is restricted due to seasonal flooding, however, there has been encroachment associated with development of the 2010 Commonwealth Games Village and the Akshardham Temple complex. As a consequence, commentators, including Baviskar (2011), have reported that there is a growing tendency within the city’s management of the river corridor to allow development where city-wide or (in the case of the Commonwealth Games) national-level political support exists. Unfortunately, such support is not, and cannot be, universally applied to localized requests for development rights. The current process of development was therefore reported as presenting two contradictory management approaches.27 Firstly, development provides economic and social opportunities where formalized access to the river is being created; however, this is undermined by the redevelopment, and in some cases destruction, of existing ecosystems. The initial clearances have therefore impacted upon the capacity of the ecological network to maintain its functionality as a river channel, as well as, as a floodplain.28 24 These statements were made in commentary conducted on 20 August 2014 with the TCPO and 21 August 2014 with SPA. 25 These comments were made by a representative of the Ministry of Forestry, the head of planning at the NDDC/DDA, and a Gurgaon architect in a focus group conducted on 25 March 2013. 26 Discussed in an interview with representatives of SPA, 21 August 2014. 27 Discussed in the interview with a senior official in the TCPO, 20 August 2014. 28 Seasonal flooding is still reported as a major issue in New Delhi and has been exacerbated by the removal of stabilizing vegetation from the river channel and the floodplain.

232 Ian Mell

In contrast to practitioner commentary, Delhi’s development plan identifies the redevelopment of the Yamuna as a key component in ensuring its long-term functionality of the river and the city’s GI resources. The DDA propose that by channelizing the river they will be able to control the seasonal fluctuations in flow and limit the negative impact of pollution and flooding.29 Furthermore, they argue that with an investment in engineered solutions there will be additional opportunities to integrate GI into the city’s development plan (Delhi Development Authority 2007). This includes the provision of additional recreational spaces along the river, and a more extensive management regime ensuring that the biodiversity of the area is supportive of quality-of-life indicators.30 The DDA therefore propose that engineered solutions to the management of the Yamuna will lead to greater GI benefits (i.e., health, well-being, recreation, water management, and biodiversity) compared to existing mechanisms.

Discussion: Is green infrastructure the future of Indian cities? While the examples discussed above suggest that GI has a role to play in improving the livability of Indian cities, it may not be the catch-all solution to India’s urban problems. Current green space planning in both Ahmedabad and New Delhi illustrate the difficulty of translating broader global discussions of GI into the specific geo-spatial contexts of India (Mell 2010, 2015). However, these issues are not insurmountable, and should not be viewed as a long-term hindrance to the use of GI in India. The commentary presented in this chapter highlights some of the complexities in attempts to integrate an ecological network orientated perspective within normative approaches to development in India. Moreover, although noticeable barriers to investment in GI are evident (i.e., financial or political support), the examples discussed suggest that further integration of its principles is possible. To successfully achieve a sustainable urban future GI therefore needs to be embedded within growth discussions. To ensure this possibility the following issues need to be addressed. First, the development plans for both cities discuss the need to deliver spatially diverse networks of GI. Through a city-wide distribution of GI 29 Reported in an interview with a senior official in the TCPO, 20 August 2014, and the focus group held on 23 March 2013. 30 One element of this is to ensure that areas where stagnant water was previously found does not occur, thus promoting improved health for the city’s residents.

The Ecological Future of Cities

Figure 9.10 Urban trees in India Gate, New Delhi

Photograph by the author

Figure 9.11 Lodi Gardens (central New Delhi)

Photograph by the author

233

234 Ian Mell

the development authorities are aiming to ensure that a supportive and functional network of green spaces is created across the urban fabric of Ahmedabad and New Delhi. The delivery of street tree programs in both cities highlights how the development authorities are attempting to extend the proportion of GI across a broad range of sites as possible. This is of particular importance in Ahmedabad due to the low overall percentage of existing GI, but is also a key development issue in New Delhi and the NCR, where the DDA are attempting to balance development pressures with environmental capacity and livability. Second, in both Ahmedabad and New Delhi, the AMC, the AUDA, and the DDA have also all identif ied investment in large-scale development as being key (a) to promoting a positive investment arena and (b) to delivering GI projects that could be characterized as being of city importance. They state that projects of this nature can act as a mechanism to attract funding, political (and in some cases public) support in the future, as well as act as high-prof ile representations for the effective growth of both cities. There is a corresponding view that investing in larger sites also supports a wider network perspective for city-wide GI, as they provide important habitats and social hubs. The clustering of sites in Ahmedabad now linked to the Sabarmati and the provision of new biodiversity parks in South Delhi linking the Ridge area to the city are two examples of this process. Third, extending this argument further, both examples promote the view that investment in river corridors appears to be an attractive development proposal (both socioeconomically and ecologically). The proposed redevelopments of the Sabarmati and the Yamuna rivers have been identified in their respective development plans as regionally important investment sites. Furthermore, both have garnered strong political support from the state government in Gujarat as well as the AMC and the AUDA in Ahmedabad and from the central government in New Delhi. As a consequence, one potential mechanism that could be used to ensure GI is developed in the future is to allocate additional funds for delivery. In New Delhi and Ahmedabad the riverfront developments hold this position as they have been identified as key resources in creating an attractive environment arena for external investment. In New Delhi the development, and subsequent conversion, of the Commonwealth Games site has been seen as a clear indication that the DDA view the Yamuna as holding high economic potential. However, the political and financial mechanisms that are supporting such investments have been called into question regarding their relevance to all citizens and businesses.

The Ecological Future of Cities

235

Fourth, it could also be argued that the expansion/development of new GI resources does not necessarily lead to an equitable use of spaces. In a number of cases in Ahmedabad and New Delhi newer investments in GI have led to a segregation of people and place, mainly related to entrance fees. Thus, it becomes increasingly important that access to existing spaces for recreational, social, and ecological use, such as the Ridge in New Delhi and the remaining Green Belt in Ahmedabad, are protected. By protecting these resources there is potentially scope for the responsible authorities of both cities to work within their ecological limits more effectively. They will, however, need to consider how these resources can be protected and where investments can be made to ensure that environmental capacity in both Ahmedabad and New Delhi are not compromised. Further issues which influence the proposal and successful implementation of GI as a future-orientated approach to planning can also be drawn from the wider literature. Each of the following issues can be seen, at least in part, in the ways in which GI is being developed in Ahmedabad and New Delhi. Firstly, to achieve successful implementation of GI there is a need for stakeholders to work collaboratively to ensure it is embedded within the development plans of a city (Mell 2015). In Ahmedabad, the AMC and the AUDA have attempted to meet this challenge through consultation and public-private partnerships (PPPs) to frame their GI investment on the Sabarmati Riverfront. In Delhi the DDA’s development plan has provided scope for stakeholders to make representations to help shape the proposed spatial distribution, and subsequent management, of the city’s and the NCR’s environment. However, despite the increased level of participation there have been continued criticisms that the process of consultation has not gone far enough to deliver appropriate GI investment (Desai 2012; Manthur 2012; Mahadevia 2011). Therefore, although there appears to be a progression of thought about how GI is integrated into the development plans of Ahmedabad and New Delhi, there is scope to extend this process further to ensure that the process of GI investment is transferable. This would address one of the key issues proposed in the GI literature: developing appropriate and effective management of the planning and investment in ecological resources (Ahern 2013; Allen 2012; Benedict and McMahon 2006; Mell 2013b; Nagendra et al. 2012). Secondly, investment in GI networks needs to represent an appropriate form of ecological investment. From extensive discussions with academics, government officers, and practitioners in India, there is a consensus that investments in street trees offer the most cost-effective and multifunctional form of GI investment. In Delhi, street trees are being used to maintain the

236 Ian Mell

city’s GI coverage, especially in rapidly expanding satellite towns, while in Ahmedabad the AMC and the AUDA propose a city-wide street tree program as a mechanism to combat air pollution and mitigate climate change. GI investments in the form of street trees, therefore, provide opportunities for cities to implement spatially extensive ecological networks that provide multifunctional benefits for individual locations and at the city-scale. They also do not require vast tracts of land, so they could be a valuable form of investment in places such as Bengaluru, Chennai, or Hyderabad where land values can be prohibitive for GI development (Nagendra et al. 2012; Nagendra and Gopal 2010). Thirdly, while street trees were identified in Ahmedabad and Delhi as the most widespread form of GI investment both development plans also presented a range of alternative delivery opportunities (Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority 2013; Delhi Development Authority 2007). Both plans promote investment in urban parks, open spaces and waterways as important resources which improve the spatial delivery of GI benefits and aid the development and maintenance of a strong ecological network. The GI literature highlights this process as a key component of a long-term approach to sustainable urban development (Fábos 2004; McHarg 1969). Moreover, authors including Beatley (2000), Mansor and Said (2008), and Schrijnen (2000) all discussed the value of developing urban networks as a mechanism to protect ecological resources and promote ecosystem services. Unfortunately, while the development of GI networks is viewed as a positive investment tactic to deliver ecological sustainability, the associated socioeconomic outcomes of investment in Ahmedabad and Delhi could be considered less successful. This reflects the practice in both locations where investment in GI networks may potentially lead to segregated access. Gated resources and entrance fees limit the social engagement between the public and key GI resources and may in turn limit the awareness of their socioenvironmental value. One mechanism to prevent this is to ensure that GI resources remain free to use at the point of access, as this is linked to the development of a longer-term awareness of environmental value (Louv 2005). It is also a model that has been successful in other locations in Asia (i.e., Singapore), Europe, and North America (Asian Development Bank 2012; Siemens AG 2011; Benedict and McMahon 2006; Beatley 2000). Finally, there is the issue of political support for investments in GI and ecological networks. From the commentary provided by professionals in both Ahmedabad and New Delhi there appears to be a growing consensus that engagement with the value of investing in ecological resources leads to more effective management. Despite some retrograde policy changes, i.e., removal of the Green Belt policy in Ahmedabad and encroachment on the

The Ecological Future of Cities

237

Ridge area in New Delhi, there has been, overall, a positive discussion of how GI and ecological networks can be developed within policy. This has led to allocations of funding from the city and state (in the case of Ahmedabad), illustrating an uptake of these ideas. Both development plans also suggest that one of their key aims is to develop locations that support investment and promote livability through sustainable resource use. This mandate is being endorsed by the AMC/AUDA and the DDA, suggesting that local politicians have begun to place greater emphasis on how environmental management can be framed to support growth. It would therefore seem practical to state that GI is beginning to position itself as an approach to urban development that is socioeconomically viable as well as being orientated to create supporting ecological systems.

Summary The future direction of urban planning therefore appears to be at a crossroads. If planners continue to ignore ecological functionality in favor of continued economic growth, cities in India, and around the world, will potentially lose their ability to effectively mitigate change. Reflecting on the current experience of GI planning in India provides a platform to assess the viability of several delivery opportunities that planners can utilize to achieve ecological and socioeconomic resilience. If, however, they continue to limit the proportion of GI required in development there is a possibility that the water and ecological systems which service India’s urban areas may be degraded beyond repair. As noted throughout this chapter, GI thinking is beginning to permeate development debates in India. However, to date, there has been no single approach utilizing its principles. Therefore, the current academic and practitioner research assessing the viability of GI as a cost-effective and multifunctional form of urban investment has attempted to provide the evidence needed by city administrations to plan for more ecologically sensitive development. However, although this process is ongoing there are signs within the Ahmedabad and New Delhi development plans that the principles supporting GI and ecological networks are starting to be applied. Ecological networks are currently being used to address city-scale issues such as climate change and pollution, while key sites and corridors are being discussed as providing district-scale socioecological amenities. Such a shift in how planners conceptualize urban planning, therefore, provides scope to rethink what form urban areas should take, and how ecological networks can be implemented to identify a more socioeconomically sustainable form of investment.

238 Ian Mell

Acknowledgements Funding in support of this research was received from the Urban Knowledge Network Asia Fellowship (Honorary Research Associate) undertaken with CEPT University (Ahmedabad, India) in 2014 and from the University of Liverpool Pump Priming Funding obtained in 2013.

References Ahern, Jack. 1995. “Greenways as a Planning Strategy.” Landscape and Urban Planning 33(1): 131-155. Ahern, Jack. 2013. “Urban Landscape Sustainability and Resilience: The Promise and Challenges of Integrating Ecology with Urban Planning and Design.” Landscape Ecology 28: 1203-1212. Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority. 2013. Draft Comprehensive Development Plan 2021, 2nd ed. Ahmedabad: AUDA. Allen, William, III. 2012. “Advancing Green Infrastructure at All Scales: From Landscape to Site.” Environmental Practice 14(1): 17-25. Asian Development Bank. 2012. Green Urbanization in Asia: Key Indicators for Asia and the Pacific 2012, 43rd ed. Mandaluyong City: Asian Development Bank. Balooni, Kulbhushan, Kausik Gangopadhyay, and B. Mohan Kumarm. 2011. “Urban Sustainability and Changing Private Green Spaces: Some Insights from an Indian City.” Working Paper Series No. 169, Asia Research Institute. Baud, Isa, and R. Dhanalakshmi. 2007. “Governance in Urban Environmental Management: Comparing Accountability and Performance in Multi-Stakeholder Arrangements in South India.” Cities 24(2): 133-147. Baviskar, Amita. 2011. “What the Eye Does Not See: The Yamuna in the Imagination of Delhi.” Economic and Political Weekly XLVI(50): 45-53. Beatley, Timothy. 2000. Green Urbanism: Learning from European Cities. Washington, DC: Island Press. Benedict, Mark A., and Edward. T. McMahon. 2006. Green Infrastructure: Linking Landscapes and Communities. Washington, DC: Island Press. Breuste, Jürgen, Juri Niemelä, and Robbert P.H. Snep. 2008. “Applying Landscape Ecological Principles in Urban Environments.” Landscape Ecology 23(10): 1139-1142. Bryant, Raymond L., and Sinéad Bailey. 1997. Third World Political Ecology: An Introduction. London: Taylor & Francis. Chatterji, Tathagata. 2013. “The Micro-Politics of Urban Transformation in the Context of Globalisation: A Case Study of Gurgaon, India.” South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies 36(2): 273-287.

The Ecological Future of Cities

239

Chaturvedi, Arun, Rahul Kamble, Nitin G. Patil, and Alka Chaturvedi. 2013. “CityForest Relationship in Nagpur: One of the Greenest Cities of India.” Urban Forestry & Urban Greening 12(1): 79-87. Chaudhry, Pradeep, Kenjum Bagra, and Bilas Singh. 2011. “Urban Greenery Status of Some Indian Cities : A Short Communication.” International Journal of Environmental Science and Development 2(2): 98-101. Datta, Ayona. 2012. “India’s Ecocity? Environment, Urbanisation, and Mobility in the Making of Lavasa.” Environment and Planning C: Government and Policy 30: 982-996. Datta, Ayona. 2014. “India’s Smart City Craze: Big, Green and Doomed from the Start?” The Guardian, 17 April. Delhi Development Authority. 2007. Master Plan for Delhi 2021. New Delhi: Delhi Development Authority. Desai, Renu. 2012. “Governing the Urban Poor: Riverfront Development, Slum Resettlement and the Politics of Inclusion in Ahmedabad.” Economic and Political Weekly XL VII(2): 49-56. Drèze, Jean, and Amartya Sen. 2013. An Uncertain Glory: India and Its Contradictions. London: Allen Lane. Fábos, Julius G. 2004. “Greenway Planning in the United States: Its Origins and Recent Case Studies.” Landscape and Urban Planning 68(2-3): 321-342. Farina, Almo. 2006. Principles and Methods in Landscape Ecology: Towards a Science of the Landscape. London: Springer. Fernandes, Leela. 2004. “The Politics of Forgetting: Class Politics, State Power and the Restructuring of Urban Space in India.” Urban Studies 41(12): 2415-2430. Forman, Richard. 1995. Land Mosaics: The Ecology of Landscapes and Regions. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. George, Biju A., Hector M. Malano, Aahmad Raza Khan, Anju Gaur, and Brian Davidson. 2008. “Urban Water Supply Strategies for Hyderabad, India – Future Scenarios.” Environmental Modeling & Assessment 14(6): 691-704. Goode, David. 2006. Green Infrastructure: Report to the Royal Commission on Environmental Pollution. London: Royal Commission on Environmental Pollution. Guy, Simon, and Simon Marvin. 1999. “Understanding Sustainable Cities: Competing Urban Futures.” European Urban and Regional Studies 6(3): 268-275. Hall, Peter. 2002. Cities of Tomorrow: An Intellectual History of Urban Planning and Design in the Twentieth Century, 3rd ed. Saffron Waldon: Blackwell. Hansen, Rieke, and Stephan Pauleit. 2014. “From Multifunctionality to Multiple Ecosystem Services? A Conceptual Framework for Multifunctionality in Green Infrastructure Planning for Urban Areas.” Ambio 43(4): 516-529. Hellmund, Paul C., and Daneil Somer Smith. 2006. Designing Greenways: Sustainable Landscapes for Nature and People. Washington, DC: Island Press.

240 Ian Mell

Jepson, Edward J. 2001. “Sustainability and Planning: Diverse Concepts and Close Associations.” Journal of Planning Literature 15(4): 499-510. Kalia, Ravi. 2004. Gandhinagar: Building National Identity in Postcolonial India. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press. Keivani, Ramin. 2010. “A Review of the Main Challenges to Urban Sustainability.” International Journal of Urban Sustainable Development 1(1-2): 5-16. Kundu, Amitabh. 2001. “Institutional Innovations for Urban Infrastructural Development: The Indian Scenario.” Development in Practice 11(2-3): 174-189. Lerner, Jeff, and Will L. Allen. 2012. “Landscape-Scale Green Infrastructure Investments as a Climate Adaptation Strategy: A Case Example for the Midwest United States.” Environmental Practice 14(1): 45-56. Louv, Richard. 2005. Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder. Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books. Mahadevia, Darshini. 2011. “Branded and Renewed? Policies, Politics and Processes of Urban Development in the Reform Era.” Economic and Political Weekly XL VI(31): 56-64. Mansor, Mazlina, and Ismail Said. 2008. “Green Infrastructure Network as Social Spaces for Well-Being of Urban Residents in Taiping, Malaysia.” Environmental Research (May): 28-30. Manthur, Navdeep. 2012. “On the Sabarmati Riverfront: Urban Planning as Totalitarian Government in Ahmedabad.” Economic and Political Weekly XL VII(47-48): 64-75. McHarg, Ian L. 1969. Design with Nature. Garden City: Natural History Press. McKinsey Global Institute. 2010. India’s Urban Awakening: Building Inclusive Cities, Sustaining Economic Growth. New Delhi: McKinsey Global Institute. Mell, Ian C. 2010. “Green Infrastructure: Concepts, Perceptions and Its Use in Spatial Planning.” PhD thesis, University of Newcastle. Mell, Ian C. 2013a. “Can You Tell a Green Field from a Cold Steel Rail? Examining the ‘Green’ of Green Infrastructure Development.” Local Environment: The International Journal of Justice and Sustainability 18(2): 37-41. Mell, Ian C. 2013b. “Managing India’s Urban Green Spaces: Translating Global Green Infrastructure Lessons to Indian Cities.” urbaNature, 14-17. Mell, Ian C. 2015. “Establishing the Rationale for Green Infrastructure Investment in Indian Cities: Is the Mainstreaming of Urban Greening an Expanding or Diminishing Reality?” AIMS Environmental Science 2(2): 134-153. Mell, Ian C., John Henneberry, Sigrid Hehl-Lange, and Berna Keskin. 2013. “Promoting Urban Greening: Valuing the Development of Green Infrastructure Investments in the Urban Core of Manchester, UK.” Urban Forestry & Urban Greening 12(3): 296-306.

The Ecological Future of Cities

241

Mell, Ian C., and John Sturzaker. 2014. “Sustainable Urban Development in Tightly Constrained Areas: A Case Study of Darjeeling, India.” International Journal of Urban Sustainable Development 6(1): 65-88. Merk, Olaf, Stéphane Saussier, Carine Staropoli, Enid Slack, and Jay-Hyung Kim. 2012. “Financing Green Infrastructure.” Regional Development Working Papers 2012/10, OECD. Middleton, Neil, and Phil O’Keefe. 2001. Redefining Sustainable Development. London: Pluto Press. Ministry of Home Affairs. 2011. Census of India, 2011. New Delhi: Government of India. Nagendra, Harini, and Divya Gopal. 2010. “Street Trees in Bangalore: Density, Diversity, Composition and Distribution.” Urban Forestry & Urban Greening 9(2): 129-137. Nagendra, Harini, Suparsh Nagendran, Somajita Paul, and Sajid Pareeth. 2012. “Graying, Greening and Fragmentation in the Rapidly Expanding Indian City of Bangalore.” Landscape and Urban Planning 105(4): 400-406. Narain, Vishal. 2009. “Growing City, Shrinking Hinterland: Land Acquisition, Transition and Conflict in Peri-Urban Gurgaon, India.” Environment and Urbanization 21(2): 501-512. Natural England. 2009. Green Infrastructure Guidance. Peterborough: Natural England. Peet, Richard, and Michael Watts, eds. 2002. Liberation Ecologies: Environment, Development and Social Movements. London: Taylor & Francis. Rao, Marapalli Govinda, and Richard Miller Bird. 2010. “Urban Governance and Finance in India.” Working Paper No. 2010/68, National Institute of Public Finance and Policy. Robbins, Paul. 2012. Political Ecology: A Critical Introduction. Oxford: John Wiley & Sons. Rouse, David C., and Ignacio F. Bunster-Ossa. 2013. Green Infrastructure: A Landscape Approach. Chicago: APA Planners Press. Roy, Ananya. 2009. “Why India Cannot Plan Its Cities: Informality, Insurgence and the Idiom of Urbanization.” Planning Theory 8(1): 76-87. Schrijnen, Pieter M. 2000. “Infrastructure Networks and Red-Green Patterns in City Regions.” Landscape and Urban Planning 48(3-4): 191-204. Siemens AG. 2011. Asian Green City Index: Assessing the Environmental Performance of Asia’s Major Cities. Munich: Siemens AG. Tarafdar, Ayon Kumar, and Hans Christie Bjønness. 2010. “Environmental Premises in Planning for Sustainability at Local Level in Large Southern Cities: A Case Study in Kolkata, India and Use of the PRETAB Planning Process Model.” International Journal of Sustainable Development & World Ecology 17(1): 24-38.

242 Ian Mell

Town & Country Planning Organisation and Ministry of Urban Development. 2014. Urban Greening Guidelines 2014. New Delhi: Town & Country Planning Organisation and Government of India. Walker, Brian, and David Salt. 2006. Resilience Thinking: Sustaining Ecosystems and People in a Changing World. Washington, DC: Island Press. Williams, Katie. 2010. “Sustainable Cities: Research and Practice Challenges.” International Journal of Urban Sustainable Development 1(1-2): 128-132. Wisner, Ben, Piers Blaikie, Terry Cannon, and Ian Davis. 2004. At Risk: Natural Hazards, People’s Vulnerability and Disasters, 2nd ed. London: Routledge. Zérah, Marie-Hélène. 2007. “Conflict between Green Space Preservation and Housing Needs: The Case of the Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Mumbai.” Cities 24(2): 122-132.

Biography Dr. I. Mell is an expert in green infrastructure planning. He has extensive experience of working with government, practitioners, and communities in the UK, Europe, and internationally. He currently works at the School of Environment, Education & Development, the University of Manchester, UK.

10 Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Property” Development A Model for Financing Public Transportation in Developing Cities in Southeast Asia? Clément Musil

Abstract Many Southeast Asian developing cities are facing traffic and pollution issues. In order to produce a more sustainable city, local governments often opt for developing modern public transit systems. Because of a lack of finance, developing cities are supported by international donors while also looking for self-sufficient financing approaches like land value capture mechanisms. The Hong Kong “Rail plus Property” (R+P) model is seen as a reference. This chapter stresses the advantages of such a model, points out the particularities that make this model very unique and argues that adjustments that have recently been made are distorting the original model. Hence, the R+P model appears not as evident and straightforward as its advocates would like it to be. Keywords: land value capture, urban policy transfer, public transportation, Hong Kong

Due to their economic takeoff and the rapid pace of urbanization, Southeast Asian developing cities like Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City, Phnom Penh, and Vientiane saw the number of private vehicles – first motorcycles and then cars – on their streets increasing tremendously. Thus, now they face severe traffic congestion. To address this critical issue, local governments often apply two main remedies. On the one hand, they build new roads, which satisfies the emerging middle class which can afford to buy cars, without seriously taking into account the negative environmental impacts. On

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch10

244 

Clément Musil

the other hand, they try to modernize public transit networks, especially by constructing mass rapid transit systems that operate metros, buses, or light-rail trains on exclusive rights-of-way. But the development of these infrastructures is impeded by a serious lack of financial resources. In general, international development banks and agencies provide grants and loans to fund these costly megaprojects. Partnerships between public and private sectors are also seen as an option to build and operate these facilities. However, few cities seek a self-sufficient financing approach to establish and run a modern public transit network. In terms of planning, financing, building, and operating an urban rail system, with its integrated “Rail plus Property” (R+P) model, Hong Kong is frequently seen as an example in Asia. The model is based on a “value capture” scheme, in which the Hong Kong government provides land rights to the railway operator, the Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC). After paying a land premium to the government on a “greenfield” basis, the urban rail operator then develops the land around and above the stations and gets profits from these new property developments. The MTRC’s benefits are afterward used to pay for part of the costs of constructing new metro lines planned by the government. Thanks to this model, Hong Kong’s mass transit railway is admired for its successful construction and operation (Tang and Lo 2008), and Hong Kong is now one of the few places in the world where urban rail transit generates a profit (Cervero and Murakami 2009) without direct public subsidies. While various researches stress that the R+P model played a major role in the prosperous development of the MTRC’s services in Hong Kong (McCarthy 1996; Tiry 2003; Tang et al. 2004; Zhang 2007; Cervero and Murakami 2009), today this model is presented as an example to reproduce. Firstly, international development banks, particularly the World Bank, consider this model as a “good practice” and promote it to developing cities that aspire to build rapid transit systems in a sustainable manner. The Hong Kong experience shows that the land value capture approach, combined with the application of a transit-oriented development (TOD) model, is “effective not only for sustainable finance but also for sustainable urbanism” (Suzuki et al. 2013, 5). Secondly, the MTRC itself intends to export its savoir faire internationally. In particular, the corporation sings the praise of its R+P model and markets it as a solution for cities in debt that want to develop urban rail systems (Lam 2013). While the MTRC only operates metro lines in Europe, Australia, and mainland China, the corporation has managed to apply its model in two Chinese cities, Shenzhen and Tianjin. However, since the 1997 Asian f inancial crisis, the same year as the transfer of sovereignty over Hong Kong from the United Kingdom to the

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

245

People’s Republic of China (PRC), Hong Kong’s R+P model has been adjusted. First, the MTRC was partly privatized. In 2000, the government decided to list its statutory corporation on the stock exchange to boost its efficiency through strengthened market discipline and to broaden its access to capital sources for financing new facilities (Yeung 2008). Then, in 2002, to stabilize the local property market, which was in crisis, the government decided to cancel all public land sales and to postpone the MTRC’s property projects (LegCo 2002). This measure eventually lasted for a few years and seriously limited the rail operator’s access to new land. In 2007, the government merged the two historical rail companies, the Kowloon-Canton Railway Corporation (KCRC) and the MTRC, into one major holding company called the MTRC. Currently, the network extension and the construction of new rail projects, which are financed mainly by public capital grants and service concessions, meet with harsh critiques concerning essentially economic and social aspects. In this chapter, I argue that the critiques and adjustments that concern the Hong Kong R+P model should be seen as parameters that distort the original model. Shedding light on the contents of the current model would be a better alternative for developing cities in general, and Southeast Asian cities in particular, that are looking for self-sufficient methods to develop their public transit systems. Indeed, this model represents not only a technical application of a value capture scheme, but it is a very sophisticated one because it merges specific land policies with an integrated transportation and urban planning system, and relies upon a special institutional frame. Meanwhile, in the case of Hong Kong, those parameters were forced to be adjusted due to internal constraints. Hence the R+P model appears not as transparent and straightforward as its advocates profess. This chapter is based on several sources. First, I collected data (e.g., annual reports, meeting minutes, and presentations) from the Hong Kong Legislative Council (LegCo) and particularly from its subcommittee on “matters relating to railways,” and from the MTRC itself. Then, I completed my survey by interviewing key persons such as MTRC employees, transportation and real estate consultants, architects, and real estate developers. Following this introduction, I investigate the R+P development model and focus on the special relationship between the rail operator and the government. In a third section, I point out the two major factors, economic and social, which are currently unsettling the R+P model. A discussion about the opportunity to transfer such a model to developing cities, which necessitated the introduction of a new urban governance process, is presented in the fourth section. This is followed by a conclusion.

246 

Clément Musil

A model based on an arrangement between public service and private benefit The railway operator, the MTRC, is the central link to understand how the chain between land and property development and public transportation is working in Hong Kong. This corporation is not only a transportation operator; it has also become a powerful property developer. MTRC’s 2013 annual report vindicates this fact. On the one hand, for its transportation operations, the corporation was operating 218 km of rail network carrying an average of 5.25 million passengers per day – this comprises a major part of Hong Kong’s total population of over 7.2 million (Hong Kong Government 2014a). On the other hand, for its property business, the MTRC was managing 90,523 residential units and 763,018 m² of commercial and office space (see Figures 10.2 and 10.3).1 By the end of 2013, due to its diversified activities, the corporation had at its disposal total assets which exceeded HK$215 billion (MTRC 2014) and has made huge profits year on year.2 This commercial success, as well as such an efficient urban rail system, is the result of Hong Kong government’s strategic commitment. Circumstances surrounding the R+P model’s emergence Back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, when Hong Kong was still under British colonial rule, the intention to build a metro network was motivated by two main ideas. Firstly, in reference to the Tokyo and Seoul metro network development, the objective for the colonial government was to solve traffic congestion and to create a fast commuting link between Kowloon peninsula and Hong Kong Island. Secondly, the authorities wanted to develop a new transportation system that would compete with buses that were at that time the main means of transportation. Behind the creation of an efficient public transit system to reduce commuting times, however, there was a dissimulated political purpose, which was to cut the influence of the bus 1 Among those properties, the corporation owns a dozen shopping malls, eighteen floors located in the Two International Finance Centre building, a major Hong Kong landmark. For more details concerning MTRC’s property, the reader should consult the “Our Mission” statement on the website of MTR (the successor to MTRC): http://www.mtr.com.hk/en/corporate/properties/ index.html (accessed on 22 January 2015). 2 From 2011 to 2012, total revenues of the corporation in Hong Kong (excluding revenues from abroad activities) increased by 9.2% to reach HK$22,953 million (MTRC 2012). And from 2012 to 2013, those revenues increased by 10.9% to reach HK$25,461 million (MTRC 2013a). HK$100 is roughly equal to €10.

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

247

Figure 10.1 Hong Kong location

Map drawn by Ariel Shepherd

Figure 10.2 Hong Kong Station integrated development

Design by the author, adapted from Ho (2011) Completed in 2005 this 5.7 ha site had been developed to integrate property ventures (a total floor area of about 416,000 m2), with two office towers (International Finance Center) of about 254,000 m2, 60,000 m2 of shopping mall plus a luxurious hotel. The Hong Kong Station is also a major transport interchange connecting directly the Tung Chung and Airport Express lines, but also by pedestrian footpath, the Tsuen Wan and Island lines. Indicated with black arrows are the property developments, and with white arrows, the transport functions.

Clément Musil

Design by the author, adapted from MTRC (2014)

Figure 10.3 MTRC Hong Kong Network; MTRC operating network with future extensions and location of property development owned and managed by the corporation

248 

company’s pro-PRC trade union, which was very active and considered as a threat to the colonial government (Mizuoka 2007). As a result, the authorities set up a dedicated company that would operate and maintain the metro

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

249

network,3 and where the staff would not be unionized. This was the first step in the creation of the MTRC. The second step led directly to the creation of the R+P model itself. Initially, in 1973, the Hong Kong government awarded the construction of the metro system to a Japanese consortium. But one year later, due to the peak of the oil crisis and unrealistic estimated construction costs, the consortium complained that the price fixed by the colonial government was too low and proposed to reduce the work plan (Yeung 2008, 69). The Japanese consortium then withdrew its offer and the authorities had no option but to take over the construction of the project themselves. The MTRC was then assigned to start the work. But to increase the MTRC’s chances of success and to enable it to bear the heavy costs, the government allowed the corporation to gain development rights above and around the area of the stations (East Week 2002). A strong institutional base The seeds of the present commercial power of the MTRC, and indirectly of the R+P model, were planted in the mid-1970s, precisely with the issuing of the Mass Transit Railway Corporation Ordinance in 1975. The then colonial government gave the company the status of a statutory corporation to meet the conflicting requirements of the financial viability of the metro operator itself, and also to serve the government’s transportation policy. The main features of the MTRC’s operations can be summarized as follows. Initially, the corporation runs its activities based upon the concept of “prudent commercial principles.” This means that the corporation must keep a prudent commercial attitude to earn enough revenues to repay its debts, to meet its operating costs, and, eventually, to make profits. But, on the other hand, if the executive requested the MTRC to act in a manner contrary to prudent commercial principles, the corporation would be compensated (Noble 1993, 186). Secondly, the corporation must be run as an independent company with clear purposes and accountabilities and not as a service provided by a governmental body. However, the government has strict control over the corporation and exercises its power by appointing the MTRC 3 Previously, Hong Kong had a railway company, the Kowloon-Canton Railway Corporation, which operated railway systems on the continental part of Hong Kong, the New Territories and the Kowloon peninsula, and was developed in the early twentieth century. Before the merge of this corporation with the MTRC in 2007, the KCRC was operating a network composed of three rail lines plus one light rail transit line totaling 120 km of lines. For details, see Yeung (2008) and KCRC et al. (2010).

250 

Clément Musil

board as well as the chairman. This is why some observers considered this corporation as wholly owned by the government before it was partly privatized in 2000 (Yeung 2008; Tang and Lo 2008). Thirdly, the corporation has a very high degree of autonomy. Originally, the MTRC set up the ticket fare structure and managed staffing matters, but also developed property, and dealt with financial matters such as borrowing, issuing stocks, dividends, and establishing reserve funds. Concerning the property development itself, the ordinance indicates that the corporation can “acquire, hold and dispose of all kinds of property movable and immovable and in any manner which it thinks fit” and “improve, develop or alter any property held by it.” Hence, within this institutional frame, the MTRC is allowed to behave as a developer and site manager aside from its obligation to operate and maintain the metro network and invest in new urban rail facilities. As a consequence, since the early 1980s, the MTRC developed vast commercial areas with retail and shopping malls, hotels, car parks and community facilities around the metro stations, and managed many of its own residential estates and shopping malls. This is the result of the Hong Kong R+P model as shaped by its legal framework. Additionally, the government maintains a proactive attitude toward urban rail development. A specific policy was adopted and since its early development, the rail system was considered as the backbone of urban transit.4 Even when during the 1980s the government allowed bus companies to run lines parallel to the metro lines, and in this way to compete with the metro, the priority for decades has definitively been urban rail (Tang and Lo 2008). Also, due to a lack of usable land for urbanization,5 the transportation policy was reinforced by the political will to develop high-density urban areas in sync with metro lines. Planning guidelines and development control instruments were driving urban development toward highly efficient mixed land use development (Lau et al. 2003). This urban development approach then served the goal of achieving sustainable living, but also increased rail patronage. In this regard, the R+P model turned out to be not only a model but an instrument which favors the interests of both the government and the corporation.

4 This policy orientation was addressed in the first white paper related to the internal transport policy published by the Hong Kong government in 1979 and reformulated through the first and second Railway Development Strategy, in 1994 and 2000 (AECOM et al. 2014). 5 Hong Kong is known for its hilly landscape and large number of islands. Despite a total area of 1104 km², only a relatively small portion of land, less than 24%, is usable for development. As a consequence, with an average of population density of 6571 inhabitants/km², some parts of the territory are very densely-populated, like Kowloon with over 44,500 inhabitants/km².

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

251

Shaping the model Despite the creation of a dedicated institutional framework, the first metro line that opened in 1979, the Kwun Tong line, did not directly come along with property developments. This line was a major test for a corporation that intended to develop property but did not know clearly how to proceed with the technical aspects. As an MTRC employee explained: The first major innovation within the property-financing model was done in the early 1980s. The MTRC received the green light from the government and got rights for developing properties, a shopping mall and residential towers, above the Kowloon Bay depot. It was a huge challenge because no one else at that time had built housing on an industrial site. We wanted to attract people to live there, whereas technically we were uncertain that we could provide satisfactory norms and avoid vibrations. […] At the same time, the corporation managed to negotiate joint-ventures with private developers under a no-risk agreement. It means that the MTRC did not bear all the property development costs and in this case shared the profits of the sales with the developers. (Interview on 4 March 2014)

At this early stage, the MTRC needed to set up a joint-venture project with developers because the corporation had no specific skills to develop housing projects. Subsequently, after this first successful project, many others followed. The MTRC then enlisted joint ventures with the largest local property consortia, including Cheung Kong, Sun Hung Kai, Hang Lung, Swire Group, Sino Land, or Henderson Land (Poon 2011). With the opening of the second line in 1982, the Tsuen Wan line, four estate developments located at four stations were built. When the Island line was put into operation in 1985 it was delivered with a dozen residential projects and two shopping malls located at ten stations out of the line’s fourteen. Thus, this first generation of property developments appeared during the 1980s with the construction of the first three metro lines, the “urban lines.” A second phase of property development started during the 1990s with the construction of the Tung Chung, the Airport Express and the Tseung Kwan O lines. This second generation of R+P projects came along with the development of unprecedented, monumental achievements which are now Hong Kong’s major architectural landmarks, and with the construction of a fast metro line which directly links the Central Business District (CBD) to the Hong Kong International Airport. These developments reinforced the visibility and the accessibility of the CBD, and projects Hong

252 

Clément Musil

Figure 10.4 Commercial estate areas produced with the development of urban rail, statement in 2006 700000 600000 500000 First generation - Urban lines (1980’)

400000 300000 200000 100000 0

GFA (m2) Retail/Shopping mall

GFA (m2) Office

GFA (m2) Hotel/Service apartments

Second generation - Airport Express, Tung Chung and Tseung Kwan O lines (1990’/ 2000’)

Commercial estate Source: Adapted from data presented by Cervero and Murakami, 2008:12 by the author

Kong as a global financial hub (Tiry 2009). Contrary to the first generation of metro lines that were accompanied mainly by housing projects,6 the second generation was accompanied by commercial estate, e.g., shopping malls, offices, hotels (see Figure 10.4). The first and second generation of property developments were distinguished both by their content and scale. The success of the first R+P ventures made the MTRC aware of the economic potential that a metro station can generate. The corporation then decided to improve its R+P model by ensuring a “better articulation of this triple functionality of the station: technical in terms of transportation facilities and equipment; economic as a means of investment and financial support; and urban in so far as it acts as the focal point of the district” (Tiry 2003, 49). As a result, a special form of TOD appeared thanks to the use of the architectural “podium” shape (Tiry 2003; Lau et al. 2003), which allowed a fully integrated development between transportation and urban – housing, commercial and leisure – functions and leisure (Cervero and Murakami 2009) (see Figure 10.4). But shaping the model cannot be seen only through infrastructure and property building. In 2003, the MTRC mandated a research team to ascertain, from both theoretical and empirical perspectives, the impacts and benefits generated by its R+P model (Tang et al. 2004). Through this request, the 6 In 2006, the MTRC owned and managed 31,682 units along the “urban lines” and nearly double along the second-generation metro lines with 57,817 units (Cervero and Murakami 2008, 12).

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

253

corporation wished to give an academic legitimacy to its model. The research outcomes proposed multiple findings. Among them, it was established that the model is based on the articulation of four key elements, namely policy, process, project, and organization.7 This combination allowed the MTRC to have a double value capture approach: (1) by collecting passengers within high dense urban areas8 and (2) by developing and owning properties with added value thanks to their location and accessibility to the metro stations. This study stressed, however, that the relationship between the government and the MTRC is the crux of the matter. Indeed, the government let the corporation assume multiple roles. The rail operator acts as a master planner by identifying the development sites around and above the stations, preparing the layout plans together with the relevant authorities, and negotiating with the government on land premium prices. It is also an intermediary between developers and public bodies by conducting tenders and awarding contracts to developers, setting technical standards, and enforcing control. The MTRC is the key stakeholder for coordinating the interface between the rail infrastructure and the real estate ventures. The R+P model is successful because it is operated by a “single entity,” the MTRC. It is the optimal way to minimize transaction costs and maximize flexibility and efficiency in the market and take full advantage of returns from development (Tang et al. 2004). Profits and dividends: The business side of the MTRC-government relationship Beyond the commuting convenience that the R+P model offers to Hong Kong, since the early 1990s, the MTRC’s property activities have been highly profitable for both the corporation and the government. In its first decade of operations, the MTRC had cash-flow issues because of heavy loans to repay. But thanks to its property business, the corporation recorded its first profits in 1988, even though its transportation operation 7 For Tang et al. (2004), “policy” means the supportive government policies in favor of metro development; “process” stands for the planning, management, and control action that contribute to the synergy effect between rail and property; “project” refers to the design and the construction; and “organization” can be understood as the combined service that MTRC provides, transport and real estate. 8 To clarify the “capture value” concept, a transportation consultant indicated that with an average of 5.25 million passengers a day, if the MTRC encouraged each passenger to spend only HK$1 per day in the station retail outlets in addition to paying for journey tickets, it would generate an important indirect and additional revenue for the metro operator (interview with a transportation consultant, 28 February 2014).

254 

Clément Musil

Figure 10.5 Tsing Y station; in addition to the metro station, this podium links the residential towers and a large shopping center

Photograph by the author, March 2014

was still making a loss (Yeung 2008, 94). Its profits started to boom with the property fever that hit Hong Kong in the 1990s. And during the 2000s, the income from property development and property management represented between 70 and 85% of the MTRC’s total net profits (ibid. 99). From the late 2000s to date, the MTRC’s property business operation remains vibrant. After merging with the KCRC in 2007, the MTRC extended its property portfolio. The corporation purchased for more than HK$7.5 billion (LegCo 2006) six existing KCRC estate developments and two other land plots (well) located in Kowloon. Even the 2008 global financial crisis, which had slightly affected the Hong Kong property market (Monkkonen et al. 2012), did not really impact the MTRC’s property business. Table 10.1 shows that from 2011 to 2013, the property business branch contributed more than 70% to the corporation’s profits, even though the property development segment itself was seriously declining, due to a lack of land grants and expensive land premiums.9 The property revenue, however, overtook transportation revenue, which accounted for barely 20% of MTRC’s total profits. Over the last fifteen years, 9

Interview with a local property consultant, 4 March 2014.

255

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

Table 10.1  Contribution to MTRC profits by segment HK$ million

2011

2011(%)

2012

2012(%) 2013 2013(%)

Transport operation Station commercial business Property rental and management business Mainland China and international subsidiaries and other businesses. Property development

2,701 2,799 2,490

20 21 19

2,881 2,969 2,764

23 24 22

2,716 3,668 3,092

23 32 27

381

3

520

4

704

6

4,934

37

3,238

26

1,396

12

Total

13,305

100

12,372

100

11,576

100

Sources: MTRC, 2012; MTRC, 2013b

property-related activities have at least generated almost twice the amount of money that the corporation invested to build the metro lines, as profits from property operations were over HK$90 billion (MTRC 2012, 2013b). In this lucrative business, the MTRC is not the only one to win – the government also does. In fact, the authorities win twice: firstly, with the sale of land premiums; and secondly, with the dividends that the government receives yearly as the majority corporation shareholder. On the one hand, for the land premium sales, this revenue is not regular each year due to the amount of square meters that the government agrees to grant. This depends on the urban rail projects planned but also on the vitality of the property market.10 From the 1980s to 2005, it is estimated that the Hong Kong government received nearly HK$140 billion as land premium payments related to MTRC projects (Cervero and Murakami 2008, 14). On the other hand, though the MTRC was listed in 2000, the government remains the majority shareholder with a 77% stake. Annually, it is estimated that the government receives about HK$1.8 billion of cash dividends (Leung and Kwock 2012), which means in total nearly HK$25 billion since 2000. Also, this dividend is regularly increasing, from HK$1.6 billion in 2001 to HK$2 billion in 2008, and reaching HK$3.5 billion in 2013 (Leung and Kwock 2012; MTRC 2013b, 245). The land premium revenues plus the cash dividends are the only direct financial benefits for the government but they are quite substantial. In addition, the government gets several indirect benefits – high usage of urban rail, controlled urban sprawl, decreased air pollution and 10 Land premium payments are, however, an important revenue source for the government. For 2013-2014, they represented nearly 16% of total government revenues (around HK$69 billion) (Liu 2014, 3).

256 

Clément Musil

energy consumption – which are also very valuable gains. In this manner, the government is able to provide an efficient collective transportation service operated by a private and single entity that aims at satisfying the transportation demands of Hong Kong residents. The Hong Kong R+P model is an undeniable economic success. It is based on incentive policies in favor of public transit and operates thanks to specific granted land. The key to understanding how this model works is its institutional framework. The activities of the MTRC are, however, framed by strict rules. This corporation answers to the authorities. But it is also regarded by the government as a unique entity able to be the interface between the developers and users of public transportation.

An instrument under growing criticism Hong Kong’s public transportation use is probably the highest in the world. In 2011, bus and rail accounted for 89.5% of the total motorized travel mode share (Choi and Loh 2013). Forty-seven percent of passengers travel by rail while more than 50% travel by bus (MTRC 2014), but the number of metro users is gradually increasing. From 2002 to 2011, there was a 9.9% increase in trips made by rail and an 8.2% decrease in trips made by bus (Choi and Loh 2013). Despite these exceptional statistics and the successful economic and commercial development of the urban rail system due to the R+P model, the extension of this system currently is facing growing criticism. In the following sections, two kinds of critiques are presented – economic and social. Economic criticism The main economic criticism is related to the privileges that the MTRC enjoy regarding access to land. First, this leads to rivalry with private developers, and second, it concerns the method of financing current urban rail projects. Competition and joint-ventures with property developers As previously indicated, the MTRC acts like a private developer but has special rights. This has raised the question of fair competition with other local developers. Before the 1997 financial crisis, local property developers did not consider this a problem because they benefited largely by forming joint ventures with the rail operator (Yeung 2008, 187). During the property boom (1980s and 1990s), the MTRC’s joint venture approach was a “win-win-win”

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

257

situation which served the corporation’s, the government’s, and developers’ interests. But with the 1997 crisis and the following property market recession, things changed. Land plots situated at prime locations – those close to metro stations, for example – became the object of strong competition. Firstly, private developers complained because of the privileges that the MTRC was enjoying while at the same time it had turned into a listed and private company. Secondly, they protested because of the oversupplied property market situation. At that time, they could not sell their housing products as fast as they wished, but the MTRC could, thanks to favorable property locations. Some of the major local developers, some of whom used to jointly work with the MTRC, advocated, and kept defending, that the “MTRC should only focus on infrastructure construction and metro operation” because it is not a “fair competitor” on the property market and it “gets land development rights without auctions” whereas developers do not.11 As a result, during the 2000s the MTRC did not receive any land development rights (LegCo 2012a, 8622). It obtained only new ones through its merger with the KCRC. According to some observers, this change of direction of the authorities could be explained firstly by the necessity to regulate the property market and secondly by the intensive lobbying that was being done by major local developers toward the government.12 But the issue with the developers was not only limited to the major local developers. The small and mid-sized local developers, as well as foreign ones (notably from mainland China), were irritated by the MTRC’s attitude. Indeed, only a few developers were invited to submit their “expressions of interest” to participate in the joint developments. The MTRC’s choice was led by two criteria: the financial strength and experience of the bidder. The small and mid-sized developers were then immediately excluded, while the foreigners had difficulties penetrating the local market. The recent MTRC property developments, however, demonstrate a shift. While major local developers are still involved in real estate ventures, such as the developments at the Lohas Park station (Sito 2014), the case of a residential-retail development at Tai Wai station is marked by the entry of mid-sized local developers and mainland firms in the bidding competition (Li 2014). Among the new competitors, a mainland Chinese one, Vanke, made a noteworthy admission (Liu 2014). This can be seen as a sign of the 11 Interview with a private developer involved in joint-venture projects with the MTRC, 5 March 2014. 12 Interview with a local property consultant, 4 March 2014.

258 

Clément Musil

MTRC’s ongoing “export strategy.” In order to gain shares in mainland China’s flourishing public transportation market, the corporation needs strong support and well-connected partners. In return, it has to increase collaboration with mainland firms on its local projects.13 The case of Tai Wai station is also characterized by the shift of the MTRC’s behavior concerning reselling land premiums. After a first unsuccessful tender in 2012, the corporation was forced to revise the land premium prices that developers considered too high. Lately, the rail operator agreed to cover 72% of the land premium costs but negotiated to keep full ownership of the shopping mall, while the developers will own the residential estates (Li and Liu 2014). New urban rail projects but traditional financing sources Since the end of the 2000s, land premiums are limited and their prices are much higher than in the past (Liu 2014). Besides, newcomers, including developers, pressure the MTRC to reorient the negotiation terms regarding the joint property development. This situation impacts the rail operator and the government in different ways. For the first one, its property development segment becomes less profitable (cf. Table 10.1), even though it preserves its lucrative shopping mall business. For the second one, if it still gains dividends from the MTRC, it is difficult to encourage the corporation to invest in new urban rail infrastructures without granting land development rights. Nevertheless, according to the MTRC ordinance, the government can still steer the corporation to build new metro lines as well as to extend existing ones. But in doing so, the government has to support the corporation. In 2007, in order to pull the economy out of the recession, the government launched a series of infrastructure projects known as the “Ten Major Infrastructure Projects.” Among these, three urban rail projects were identified as “priority projects,” including the South Island line, the Sha Tin to Central Link, and the Hong Kong section of the Guangzhou-Shenzhen-Hong Kong Express Rail Link. In addition, the government requested that the MTRC build two line extensions of the Kwun Tong and West Island lines (see Table 10.2). Due to the 2008 global financial crisis, the authorities had to postpone the beginning of these works to 2009. While the f irst and second generations of metro lines were mainly financed through the R+P model, the government had to bear a major part of the construction costs for the new projects and to propose different forms of funding arrangements (see Table 10.2). The South Island line and the Kwun 13 Ibid.

259

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

Table 10.2  Cost and funding mechanisms of the current MTRC projects Urban Rail Projects

South Island Line (SIL) (new line) Kwun Tong Line (KTL) (extension) West Island Line (WIL) (extension) Sha Tin-Central Link (SCL) (new line) Guangzhou-Shenzhen-Hong Kong Express Rail Link (XRL) (Hong Kong section)

Length (km)

7 3 3 17 26

Cost (HK$) Initial Hong Kong Funding mechanism Government Initial and updated costs provision (HK$) (in 2008) 7 bn (2008) 15,4 bn (2014) 4,2 bn (2008) 5,3 bn (2014) 8,9 bn (2008) 18,5 bn (2014) 37,4 bn (2007) 79,8 bn (2014) 39,5 bn (2007) 71 bn (2014)

9,9 bn

R+P model

2,2 bn

R+P model

6 bn

Capital grant

24,1 bn

Service concession Service concession

29,5 bn

Sources: LegCo, 2008b; LegCo, 2014a; LegCo, 2014b; SCMP, 25 August 2014; SCMP, 11 August 2014

Tong line extension are funded by the grant of property development rights while the Sha Tin to Central Link and the Express Rail Link are funded by a concession approach,14 and the West Island line extension receives a direct public capital grant. The use of the R+P model is today very limited and only two projects are supported by this funding mechanism. The lack of available land seems to be the main reason that forced the government to diversify the funding sources. For instance, for the West Island line extension that connects to Kennedy Town, which is a very population-dense area, to provide rail transit access to the local communities the government decided to directly bear the construction costs, because of the scarcity of development rights to sell to the MTRC and because the corporation itself considers this project as “economically nonviable.” For the Express Rail Link, the reason for new funding arrangements is not directly related to the lack of land. This project is strategic, as it links Hong Kong to the mainland Chinese high-speed train network. The government opted for a concession service to maintain its control over the infrastructure. With the concession service and the capital grant, the administration chose traditional and internationally well-known instruments to finance the new lines. 14 With this funding support, the government is responsible for providing, at its cost, the necessary rail infrastructure. Upon completion, MTRC will be granted a service concession and pay the government service concession payments for the right to operate the railway for 50 years (LegCo 2008b).

260 

Clément Musil

Thus, these new projects are characterized by a strong public financial involvement. But since the beginning of the construction phase, several questions have been asked, notably regarding the MTRC’s project management capacity. Indeed, every year the projects incur cost overruns (see Table 10.2) and the year 2014 was marked by a series of scandals related to the delays that hit all projects and especially the costliest one, the Express Rail Link. The MTRC is today highly criticized for its way of overseeing the projects and precisely for its lack of transparency about the works’ progress. Because the construction costs nearly doubled for each project and because of public relations mistakes concerning the delays, the MTRC chief executive was pushed to resign in July 2014 (Lee 2014). Due to the privileges that the corporation holds and because of its rail transit service responsibilities, its behavior is expected to be without fault. Today the MTRC is conducting ambitious projects that are mostly directly financed by the government, and indirectly by the taxpayers, and less by the R+P model. The corporation assumes more obligations toward the executive and the citizens, and hence carries a higher social burden. Social criticism Unlike the public bus service, where a few companies are competing against each other, the MTRC is the main provider of the urban rail service and has a total monopoly. If the government provides significant support to the MTRC, in return, why is the corporation not contractually obliged to contribute economically as well as socially to the development of Hong Kong? This question is asked repeatedly today both in the media as well as on the floor of the Legislative Council. The social aspect of the criticism that concerns the MTRC, and indirectly on the way that it runs its business with its R+P model, is specifically related to the fare setting, the social housing production, and the urban rail network extension issues. From an unregulated to a regulated fare setting The most common criticism of the Hong Kong urban rail system concerns the fare setting. From its creation until its merger with the KCRC, the MTRC was criticized for its “unregulated fare autonomy.” According to the MTRC ordinance, the corporation benefits from its wide autonomy to set the ticket price. This autonomy was considered by the authorities as a core element for a financially viable urban rail service. The authorities’ interest was not to ensure welfare gains but to ensure an efficient service while

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

261

allowing the corporation to maximize its profits. Therefore, many people considered transportation fares too high even when it turned out that the MTRC has actually not increased fares between 1984 and 2004 (Tang and Lo 2010). However, after the Asian financial crisis, citizens accused the corporation of being reluctant to lower fares and thus not fulfilling its corporate responsibility properly (Yeung 2008, 11-12). After the merger, the MTRC committed to not increase fares until 2009. The administration then decided to replace the existing fare setting autonomy by an objective and transparent fare adjustment mechanism (FAM) which would supposedly provide upward and downward price adjustments.15 This new regulated fare mechanism, however, failed to stabilize and reduce the fares.16 Civil society groups, such as the Public Transportation Affairs Alliance, criticized the MTRC for “raising fares while making billions of dollars in profit” (Ip 2012). The operator gets profits from its transportation operations and property business and in parallel the government still finances this transportation system (with capital or land development right grants) without asking the corporation to decrease or maintain ticket fares. Despite the introduction of specific fares like the “monthly pass,” by applying the FAM formula the ticket fares increased again in 2013 (+2.7%) and 2014 (+3.6%). At the Legislative Council, some councilors (mainly from the pan-democracy camp and secondarily from the pro-Beijing camp) are campaigning for reviewing the FAM formula (by considering and including the margin that the corporation gains with its property activities), reconsidering the “profit sharing mechanism” between the government and the corporation (LegCo 2012b, 3366), and even encouraging the government to “deprivatize” the MTRC by buying back the remaining 24% MTRC shares (LegCo 2011, 3971). The fare policy issue reveals the corporation’s lack of social consideration. The Hong Kong urban rail service is in fact a private service; it provides collective transportation open to the public but is not a “public service” because this kind of service would require a drastic fare regulation policy. Even when the MTRC is making a profit, it maintains that its transportation operations and its other businesses are not related, and the benefits that it gets from its property activities are reinjected as investments for new rail 15 The FAM is based on a formula that takes into account changes in the Composite Consumer Price Index, the Nominal Wage Index, as well as a local productivity factor (Hong Kong Government 2012). 16 The overall fare adjustment rate was +2.05% in 2010, +2.2% in 2011, and +5.4% in 2012 (LegCo 2012b).

262 

Clément Musil

infrastructure. The public transportation fare policy is currently a serious issue and will gradually become a real social challenge for the government. To ease residents’ dissatisfaction, the government would have to affirm more clearly its status as a regulatory body.

The MTRC and public housing production, an incompatible objective Since the early 2000s, Hong Kong has been facing a serious housing shortage. Despite the “nine measures” adopted in 2002 to regulate the housing market (Yung 2008), the government encountered difficulties satisfying middle- and low-income households while about half of the population already lives in public housing.17 Through its recent housing strategy, the administration wishes to increase public rental housing production as well as to improve the sales of subsidized flats to provide more home ownership opportunities, and plans to have 60% of the population living in public housing within ten years (Hong Kong Government 2014b). To implement this strategy, the government relies on public agencies such as the Housing Authority (HA) and the Urban Renewal Authority (URA). The MTRC is also producing housing, but for the private sector, and notably through the R+P development model. However, because the corporation is able to purchase public land and still has land reserves, the MTRC could be indirectly called to participate in the governmental effort. This question had already been addressed by a member of the Legislative Council to the executive. It was then proposed that the government will liaise with the MTRC and the URA to increase the supply of small and medium-sized residential flats, particularly in the New Territories, where the corporation has plots (LegCo 2010). In other words, it was suggested to build up an innovative public-private partnership between the URA and the MTRC, where the corporation would encourage its joint developers to produce affordable housing and not be focused only on profitable real estate. The MTRC does not share this opinion. The corporation stands firm on its position. Firstly, the URA and the MTRC have different prerogatives and objectives in terms of housing development. The URA is appointed to redevelop old urban areas while the MTRC has to develop real estate in connection with the metro station. Secondly, with the combination of 17 In the Hong Kong social housing system, households can either rent or purchase housing produced by the government.

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

263

producing high-grade residential real estate and ensuring smooth accessibility to the station, the corporation is sure to add value to its properties. In return, the corporation is obliged to generate enough revenues, which are later redirected to new infrastructure.18 However, at this stage as a private developer, the MTRC could participate in the current collective social effort, but it does not yet see any definite advantages. The metro network extension under conditions Due to its limited territory, Hong Kong’s metro network is not as extensive as in other cities. Residents who are living in remote urban areas demand a more collective transportation service not limited to buses (LegCo 2007, 1017). The bus service is criticized because of long commuting times and for its negative outputs like air pollution and traffic congestion. The metro network extension, however, remains an issue because until today this system was not only built to purely meet community needs: some parts were constructed for economic, political, and other policy reasons (Yeung 2008, 12). Following the authorities’ orientations, the MTRC agrees to build new lines and to extend existing ones where there is a high population density, and there is a potential ridership to catch. For the corporation, there is an urban density threshold below which urban rail services are unlikely to be financially viable. A metro line is considered as “non-financially viable” if there are under 31,500 persons per square kilometer (Tang 2009, 84). In Hong Kong, a new metro station would only be justified with more than 30,000 passengers per day, in contrast to a level of 5000 to 10,000 for many other cities (Tang 2009, 58). The population density factor played a major role in the extension of the Tseung Kwan O line, which was put into operation in 2002. While the government confirmed to implement the works in 1996, the MTRC decided to start construction only after completing the Airport Express Link. The corporation was also waiting for the completion of housing projects, particularly at Tseung Kwan O station, to make sure the necessary ridership would be there to meet its financial viability threshold. This case was a “classic outcome of the Hong Kong railway development model that puts financial viability before social needs such that railways are built to catch up with the demand” (Yeung 2008, 168). While another plan was approved in 2014 to build three new lines by 2026, the debate concerning 18 Interview with MTRC employee, 4 March 2014.

264 

Clément Musil

the conditions of the network extension returned to the forefront. The new East Kowloon line, with an estimated cost of HK$27.5 billion for 8 km, will be financially viable only if the government supports the construction of more than 18,000 public flats and 7500 private flats along the line (Fung and Siu 2014). But the metro network extension is not only a matter of discussion between the MTRC and the government. Nowadays, residents invite themselves into the debate. Although the MTRC has developed efficient skills to disseminate its projects, the inhabitants have become aware and educated about the negative impacts of large-scale infrastructure developments, and have started to publicly oppose them. From 2008 to 2011, a resistance movement was created against the demolition of Tsoi Yuen village, which was located on the path of the Express Rail Link from Kowloon to Shenzhen. Eventually, the corporation and the authorities refused to negotiate alternative plans with the representatives of the civil movement and preferred to provide financial compensation to acquire the land (Ma 2012). This latter case highlights the difficulties that the MTRC and the government have had in communicating with the public and gaining their consent to develop new lines. Thus, the Hong Kong metro network extension is mainly determined by the profits that the corporation may make and whether it can surely implement its R+P model, and less by the principle to facilitate “public service” access to the communities. Therefore, the construction of new lines implies a need for new ways of negotiation between the authorities, the MTRC, and citizens, due to growing public opposition and greater distrust toward metro projects. The economic and social criticisms levied against the MTRC and its R+P model highlight two major issues. Firstly, there is confusion about the role of the corporation. The MTRC is officially mandated to run a transportation service under “prudent commercial principles.” But because of the privileges that the MTRC enjoys and the considerable profits that it makes, its behavior is closely monitored. Today, residents and some councilors request from the corporation a greater focus on social issues in addition to its commercial activities. Secondly, there is a conflict of interest at the government level. The MTRC is a publicly listed company, with the government as the main shareholder. However, the corporation is also a public policy instrument. There are irreconcilable conflicts of interest for the government to be both shareholder and policy maker, to have representatives on the MTRC board and not be capable to enforce that the corporation provides an all-inclusive “public service.”

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

265

To replicate the R+P model, a matter of innovation in urban governance Today, regarding the MTRC’s commercial performances and its property development achievements, Hong Kong’s experience with the R+P model indicates that “transit value capture” is a successful financial model. If the combination of rail and property development has surely “created a virtuous cycle of viable urban rail operations and a highly transit oriented built form” (Cervero and Murakami 2009, 2039), this economic strategy has sidelined the idea of forging a public transportation service which encompasses social purposes. While value capture mechanisms are applied in several cities around the world, the Hong Kong case remains very unique. Firstly, this is because Hong Kong has specific features – limited territory, high population density, transportation issues, and economic systems – and secondly, because this government has adopted appropriate transportation and land use policies. But above all, the singularity of the Hong Kong R+P model is linked to the close relationship between the government and the MTRC. In other words, this model is locally successful because of specific institutional arrangements that have been facilitated by Hong Kong institutions since the 1970s. These arrangements provided the tools to ensure an accurate and solid coordination between the different public and private bodies. Considering the uniqueness of this model, is it then even conceivable to replicate it elsewhere, especially in Southeast Asian cities that are dealing with rapid urban growth? Both the MTRC and the World Bank give an affirmative answer to this question, but for different reasons. As far as the MTRC is concerned, the necessity to extend its local network and the will to conquer new markets explain why the corporation is eager to export its model. The MTRC already operates a few lines in mainland China. It also acquired land to develop its R+P model in Shenzhen (see Figure 10.6). The MTRC expects to replicate this kind of venture in mainland China and in the region, too. But in doing so, it also has to deal with local urban governance issues. In the case of mainland China, due to a fragmented planning process and a rigid land policy – which does not allow a transit company to obtain land use rights to develop projects other than infrastructure – the possibilities for the MTRC to apply its model are restricted.19 Furthermore, a brand-new Chinese competitor has appeared that is challenging the MTRC. In 2014 Shentong, the Shanghai metro operator, signed a partnership with 19 Ibid.

266 

Clément Musil

Greenland, a state-owned developer, to propose offers to cities that want to build metro lines despite a tight budget. Shentong has the expertise to build transit lines, while Greenland has the skills to develop housing, where the city would agree to concede land rights (Ni 2014). This newcomer shows that the R+P model is tempting for other economic players and reveals that the MTRC is no longer the only player in this commercial segment in the region. As far as the World Bank is concerned, its representatives actively promote the Hong Kong R+P model. The donor is particularly keen on advocating the model to Chinese cities and more broadly to other cities in need of modernizing their public transit systems and solving urban issues with limited financial resources.20 Developing Asian cities are very receptive to this model. For instance, a number of Southeast Asian cities plan to build (and are building) urban mass rapid transit facilities, while they also share the lack of budget to cover the construction costs, despite the financial and technical supports of international development banks and agencies.21 Therefore, due to the high value of urban land in these cities, the R+P model is seen as an adequate solution to partly solve their financial issues, to release their dependence on international donors, and also to modernize their public transit networks. While the R+P model seduces developing Southeast Asian cities’ political leaders, as well as local urban planners, the experts who closely work with the World Bank caution that the development of a land value capture project requires a range of conditions. Such conditions include having a vibrant and healthy property market, a strategic vision with adequate land and transportation policies, a supportive regulatory and institutional framework, and considerable expertise (Suzuki et al. 2014). Furthermore, to reproduce, even partly, the Hong Kong R+P model, the cornerstone is to create a “single entity,” like the MTRC. To manage the complexity of land development and to leverage the opportunities to capture value created by rail investments, this body should benefit from large skills and advantages granted by the authorities. This also entails experimentation in urban 20 The World Bank held a workshop entitled “Transforming Cities with Transit and Financing Transit with Land Values” in Beijing on 1 November 2013, where the CEO of MTRC gave a presentation. Furthermore, since 2008, the bank has published several communications about “land value capture” mentioning the Hong Kong experience. The last one presents the Hong Kong case as a potential reference for developing cities (Suzuki et al. 2014). 21 Vientiane in Laos is building its first bus rapid transit line; Phnom Penh in Cambodia plans to develop bus rapid transit and tramway lines; Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam have comprehensive plans to construct systems of bus rapid transit and metro lines while the first metro lines are under construction in both cities.

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

267

Figure 10.6 MTRC project in Shenzhen (Mainland China); on an 8.9 hectare plot located on the train depot of Line 4 operated by the MTRC in Shenzhen, the “Tiara” will host a shopping mall and 1,700 flats; the project and the construction phase

Source: http://www.tiarasz.com.cn Photograph by the author, September 2014

governance to transfer considerable public skills to a new entity, whether it is a public or a private one. Therefore, in order to be translated, the Hong Kong R+P model cannot be considered as a project, but mainly as a learning process, which deals with necessary adjustments and issues, including competition for land, social demands, and

268 

Clément Musil

the privatization of the “single entity”. The controversial economic and social aspects of the model pointed out earlier in this chapter have to be raised and discussed prior to setting up a “single entity” capable of acting like the MTRC. Thus, before considering the transfer of the R+P model in other urban contexts, as promoted by the MTRC and the World Bank, it would be more appropriate to question if developing Southeast Asian cities have the capacity to receive such a model and if they are skillful enough to coordinate public and private bodies in order to follow a common direction in the interests of the public. In addition to proper transportation and land policies, crony capitalism and the weakness of public bodies at the local scale (from technical to human and financial resources) in several Southeast Asian developing cities remain serious obstacles to implementing such a model to modernize public transportation. This model can still be considered as a chimera, with distant and blurry objectives. The process of transferring models and policies, which involves the intervention of various actors (e.g., international consultants and institutional networks, academics, etc.) and aims to “borrow policies developed in one setting to develop programs and policies within another” (Dolowitz and Marsh 1996), is still at work and not yet accomplished for the R+P model. Moreover, the R+P model cannot be seen as the panacea to solve urban problems related to traffic congestion or limited public financial resources. The implementation of the model as well as its outcomes can also lead to negative impacts. For instance, this approach is often seen as an urban renewal tool, for which economic profits remain the main target, while the regeneration of the urban fabric is neglected. Urban heritage, like ancient neighborhoods, is often sacrificed with the development of such projects in the name of solving problems like traffic congestion.22 Also, the land-acquisition procedures that precede the construction of the infrastructure and its joint property development often bring forward social issues related to the eviction of households. Today, some Southeast Asian developing cities, like Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City, which are currently building metro lines, hope to find alternative ways to finance their projects by adopting such a model. The future of their public transit systems depends on the financial model they will be able to elaborate to avoid relying on the official development assistance that is increasing their debts. Thus, the R+P model could be a part of the solution. Meanwhile, these cities face some challenges to adapt this model. In short, 22 To give a concrete example, I refer here to the Tianzifang case in Shanghai where an old housing block (locally called a lilong) was bulldozed to build an underground metro station – Dapuqiao station on Line 9 of the Shanghai Metro – and on top, a tower block mixed-use development. In this case, only a part of the ancient area was preserved.

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

269

beyond the engineering and technical aspects, transportation and land development plans are not integrated in both cities, and coordination is deficient between transportation, land, and urban planning departments. Moreover, urban property markets, which are characterized by speculative practices, cannot guarantee stable revenues in the long-term to the body that will be in charge to capture land value. Metro operation companies do not yet exist, while many bodies depending on the ministry or municipal level are involved in construction phases and work independently of each other. Because of these challenges, the R+P model cannot yet be adapted in Vietnam. However, innovations in urban governance can still emerge and accelerate the adaptation process of the model. This is possible in two different ways. At the central level, policy makers might decide to overcome institutional barriers and integrate multiple policy objectives that municipalities should then implement. At the local level, through experimentation and innovative urban governance processes, municipalities might redefine and reposition stakeholders and invent new “rules of the game” to serve the objective of creating a self-sufficient public transportation system. In both Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City, urban governance is driven by innovative practices with certain institutional “arrangements.” Therefore, both scenarios are conceivable.

Conclusion Due to their rapid urbanization and their ongoing urban transition, developing cities are confronted with new challenges such as improving urban services and infrastructure, particularly within the Southeast Asian region. In order to ensure that these cities remain competitive “engines of economic growth,” mobility of goods and people has to be facilitated, for which the cities often consider applying land value capture instruments, such as the well-known Hong Kong “Rail plus Property” (R+P) model. The expectations for this model are twofold: first, to solve congestion and transportation issues by putting in place modern urban public transit systems, and, second, to raise sufficient funding to finance these extremely costly systems. Some organizations, like the MTRC (the Hong Kong urban rail operator), and also the World Bank, are particularly keen to promote the benefits of such a model as it ensures the development of financially viable collective transportation. In addition, this model paves the way toward the production of new urban settlements, generating highly dense urban forms – hence, sustainable urbanism. Hong Kong has become a reference for developing

270 

Clément Musil

cities in Southeast Asia that are looking for regional experiences to invent their own urban future. The Hong Kong model is particularly relevant because of its geographical and cultural proximity, and the successful economic development that it symbolizes. Despite the economic and financial benefits of the Hong Kong R+P model, it has undergone adjustments in recent years, for which the MTRC, the entity implementing the model, is being criticized. The major adjustment was the partial privatization in 2000 of the operator that had been a statutory corporation. This has modified the relationship between the operator and the government which then became the majority shareholder of a highly profitable listed company. The government is facing a conflict of interests: on the one hand, it benefits from profits generated by the MTRC, while, on the other hand, it has to constantly negotiate with this semiprivate company to ensure it complies with its public transportation policy. The MTRC, and indirectly its R+P model, is receiving harsh criticism from an economic and social perspective. From an economic point of view, land acquisition and development rights are at the center of all concerns. For the model to be financially viable, it is necessary that the government ensures land acquisition by the MTRC (around or above the stations and depots) at attractive prices and at a value “without the presence” of a new rail line. But in a context where land is scarce and an expensive resource, privileges that the corporation benefits from are disputed. In addition, the corporation is increasingly dependent on the revenues from its real estate activities. This reliance is questionable with regards to limited land resources and hence a potentially volatile market. From a social standpoint, some of the commuters who are traveling by urban rail (nearly 50% of the Hong Kong population is using the MTRC service daily) accuse the operator of lacking social consideration. Ticket fares were successively raised over the last years and are generally considered too expensive. Because the MTRC is known to be a very profitable company thanks to its property businesses, there is a lack of understanding among some citizens as to why the operator is reluctant to provide a more consumer-friendly service. The R+P model contributes to the success of the Hong Kong urban rail system mainly because of its institutional innovations and the governance process that the authorities managed to implement. This is also the reason why this model is very unique. In order to be reused as a practical mechanism to f inance urban transportation facilities in developing Asian cities, this land capture instrument should be known not only for its commercial performances, but also for its governance system, as

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

271

well as for its economic and social tendencies that are henceforth part of the model. Finally, in order to duplicate and adapt the R+P model, cities have to innovate and create their own institutional pattern to support the development of viable public transit systems. This urban governance challenge cannot be reduced to a technical practice like jointly developing infrastructure and real estate. Today, compared to public transit, road facilities are easier to implement because of established technologies and economic models to finance them, and thus, do not require innovative coordination between public and private bodies. There is then a real threat that public transit network developments will be discarded because of short-term considerations, when long-term solutions as well as financially viable options are needed for the future of Southeast Asian developing cities.

References AECOM, MVA Hong Kong, Highways Department. 2014. Review and Update of the Railway Development Strategy 2000: Executive Summary. Cervero, Robert, and Jim Murakami. 2008. “Rail + Property Development: A Model of Sustainable Transit Finance and Urbanism.” Working Paper, UC Berkeley Center for Future Urban Transport. Cervero, Robert, and Jim Murakami. 2009. “Rail and Property Development in Hong Kong: Experiences and Extensions.” Urban Studies 46: 2019-2043. Choi, Chik Cheong, and Nadiah Loh. 2013. “Transport Policies and Patterns: A Comparison of Five Asian Cities.” Journeys 10: 69-78. Dolowitz, David, and David Marsh. 1996. “Who Learns What from Whom: A Review of the Policy Transfer Literature.” Political Studies 44(2): 343-357. East Week. 2002. “Di Tie Chong Ji Lou Shi [MTRC declines property market].” 481, 23 January. Fung, Fanny and Phila Siu. 2014. “Surprise new MTR line planned for Kwun Tong.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 18 September. https://www.scmp.com/news/ hong-kong/article/1594877/surprise-new-mtr-line-planned-kwun-tong Ho, Hang-Kwon Thomas. 2011. “Railway and Property Model – MTR Experience.” MTRC corporate PowerPoint presentation. Hong Kong Government. 2012. Review of the Fare Adjustment Mechanism of the MTR Corporation Limited. Transport and Housing Bureau. Hong Kong Government. 2014a. Hong Kong Annual Digest of Statistics. Census and Statistics Department.

272 

Clément Musil

Hong Kong Government. 2014b. Hong Kong: The Facts – Housing. Transport and Housing Bureau. Hong Kong Laws. 1979. Mass Transit Railway Corporation Ordinance (Cap. 270), revised ed. Ip, Kelly. 2012. “MTR boss pleads over fares.” The Standard, 29 October. Kowloon-Canton Railway Corporation (KCRC), Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC), Leisure and Cultural Services Department. 2010. Hong Kong’s Railways – Past, Present and Future. Published for the exhibition “One Hundred Years of Railway Operations in Hong Kong.” Lam, Anita. 2013. “Hong Kong MTR to export its rail-­p roperty  ­m odel  to China.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 3 August. https://www.​scmp.com/​ business/companies/article/1294065/hong-kongs-mtr-may-export-its-railproperty-business-model Lau, Stephen Siu Yu, R. Giridharan, and S. Ganesan. 2003. “Policies for Implementing Multiple Intensive Land Use in Hong Kong.” Journal of Housing and Built Environment 18: 365-378. Lee, Ada. 2014. “MTR chief Jay Walder to exit a year early in wake of cross- border​ rail link delay.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 16 July. https://www.​scmp. com/​news/hong-kong/article/1555371/independent-inquiry-high-speed-raildelay-criticises-mtr-ceo-jay LegCo. 2002. A Statement on Housing Policy by the Secretary for Housing, Planning and Lands. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 13 November. LegCo. 2006. Bills Committee on Rail Merger Bill – Fifth Meeting. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 28 October. LegCo. 2007. Official Record of Proceedings. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 26 October. LegCo. 2008a. Official Record of Proceedings. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 18 June. LegCo. 2008b. Report of the Subcommittee on Matters Relating to Railways for submission to the Panel on Transport. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 7 June. LegCo. 2010. Official Record of Proceedings. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 19 May. LegCo. 2011. Official Record of Proceedings. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 21 December. LegCo. 2012a. Official Record of Proceedings. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 25 April. LegCo. 2012b. Official Record of Proceedings. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, 6 December. LegCo. 2014a. “Progress Update of the Construction of the Shatin to Central Link.” Legislative Council Panel on Transport, Subcommittee on Matters Relating to Railways. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, June.

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

273

LegCo. 2014b. “Progress Update of the Construction of the West Island Line, South Island Line (East) and Kwun Tong Line Extension.” Legislative Council Panel on Transport, Subcommittee on Matters Relating to Railways. Legislative Council of Hong Kong, June. Leung, Cusson, and Joyce Kwock. 2012. MTR Corporation. Crédit Suisse Securities Research and Analytics. Li, Sandy. 2014. “MTR Corp’s Tai Wai project gets nine new bids after entry rules eased.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 14 October. https://www.scmp.com/ property/hong-kong-china/article/1615947/mtr-corps-tai-wai-project-gets-ninenew-bids-after-entry Li, Sandy and Yvonne Liu. 2014. “MTR Corp’s Tai Wai tender sweetened with cut in land tax.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 17 September. https://w w w.scmp.com/property/hong-kong-china/article/1594185/ mtr-corps-tai-wai-tender-sweetened-cut-land-tax Liu, Yvonne. 2014. “Developers keen as MTR’s Tai Wai residential project up for tender.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 16  September. https://w w w.scmp.com/property/hong-kong-china/article/1593409/ developers-keen-mtrs-tai-wai-residential-project-tender Liu, Pak Wai. 2014. “Land Premium and Hong Kong Government Budget: Myths and Realities.” Working Paper 19, Institute of Global Economics and Finance, The Chinese University of Hong Kong. Ma, Lai Yee Miranda. 2012. “Framing Processes and Social Media: A Frame Analysis of the Tsoi Yuen Resistance Movement.” Presented at the 65th Annual Conference of the World Association for Public Opinion Research (WAPOR), Hong Kong, 14-16 June 2012. Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC). 2012. Announcement of Audited Results for the Year Ended 31 December 2012. Hong Kong: Hong Kong Exchanges and Clearing Ltd. and The Stock Exchange of Hong Kong Ltd. Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC). 2013a. Announcement of Audited Results for the Year Ended 31 December 2013. Hong Kong: Hong Kong Exchanges and Clearing Ltd. and The Stock Exchange of Hong Kong Ltd. Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC). 2013b. Annual Report 2013. Hong Kong: MTRC. Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC). 2014. Sustainability Report 2013. Hong Kong: MTRC. McCarthy, Chris. 1996. “The Mass Transit Railway and Urban Planning in Hong Kong: An Essential Partnership.” Planning & Development: Journal of the Hong Kong Institute of Planners 12(1): 26-30. Mizuoka, Fujio. 2007. “The Making of the Mass Transit Railway in Hong Kong.” Presentation at the Second GAMUT Annual Workshop Melbourne, 11-14 November.

274 

Clément Musil

Monkkonen, Paavo, Kelvin Wong, and Jaclene Begley. 2012. “Economic Restructuring, Urban Growth, and Short-term Trading: The Spatial Dynamics of the Hong Kong Housing Market, 1992-2008.” Regional Science and Urban Economics 42: 396-406. Ni, Huiliuqian. 2014. “Greenland Signs Deal to Move into Metro Construction.” China Daily, 22 July. http://usa.chinadaily.com.cn/business/2014-07/22/content_17897756.htm. Ng, Kang-Chung. 2014. “Budget for high-speed railway rises to HK$71 billion after delays”, MTRC says. South China Morning Post (SCMP), 11 August. https://www. scmp.com/news/hong-kong/article/1571464/ budget-high-speed-railway-riseshk71-billion-after-delays-mtrc-says Noble, R.H. 1993. “Management of Mass Transit Railway.” In Keep a City Moving: Urban Transport Management in Hong Kong, ed. Liang-Huew Wang and Anthony Gar-On Yeh. Hong Kong: Asian Productivity Organization, 185-194. Poon, Alice. 2011. Land and the Ruling Class in Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Enrich Professional Publishing. Sau-Wai, Chim and Jing Yang. 2014. “MTR to take HK$3b hit over project delays.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 25 August. https://www.scmp.com/business/companies/article/1580581/mtr-net-grows285pc-profit-property-development-slumps Sito, Peggy. 2014. “MTR seeks expression of interest for phase five of Lohas Park project.” South China Morning Post (SCMP), 21 October. https://www.scmp.com/ business/companies/articles/1621184/mtr-seeks-expressions-interest-phasefive-lohas-park-project Suzuki, Hiroaki, Jim Murakami, Yu-Hung Hong, and Beth Tamayose. 2014. Financing Transit-Oriented Development with Land Values: Adapting Land Value Capture in Developing Countries: Overview Report. Washington, DC: World Bank Publications. Suzuki, Hiroaki, Robert Cervero and Kanako Iuchi. 2013. Transforming Cities with Transit: Transit and Land-Use Integration for Sustainable Urban Development. Washington, DC: World Bank Publications. Tang, Bo Sin, Yat Hung Chiang, Andrew Noel Baldwin, and Chi Wai Yeung. 2004. Study of the Integrated Rail-Property Development Model in Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong Polytechnic University. Tang, Siman B. 2009. “On the Viability of Mass Rail Transit Development.” PhD diss., Hong Kong University of Science and Technology. Tang, Siman B., and Hong K. Lo. 2008. “The Impact of Public Transport Policy on the Viability and Sustainability of Mass Railway Transit: The Hong Kong Experience.” Transportation Research Part A 42: 563-576.

Hong Kong’s “Rail-plus-Propert y” Development

275

Tang, Siman B., and Hong K. Lo. 2010. “On the Financial Viability of Mass Transit Development: The Case of Hong Kong.” Transportation 37: 299-316. Tiry, Corinne. 2003. “Hong Kong’s Future Is Guided by Transit Infrastructure.” Japan Railway and Transport Review 35: 28-35. Tiry, Corinne. 2009. “Entre hypercentre et fragment d’aéroville, Hong Kong Station. Principes de mise en œuvre d’une mutation urbaine.” In La métropole des infrastructures, ed. Claude Prelorenzo and Dominique Rouillard. Paris: Picard, 153-166. Yeung, Rikkie. 2008. Moving Millions: The Commercial Success and Political Controversies of Hong Kong’s Railways. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Yung, Betty. 2008. Hong Kong’s Housing Policy: A Case Study in Social Justice. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press. Zhang, Ming. 2007. “Value Capture through Integrated Land Use-Transit Development: Experience from Hong Kong, Taipei, and Shanghai.” In Urbanization in China: Critical Issues in an Era of Rapid Growth, ed. Yan Song and Chengri Ding. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, 29-46.

Biography Clément Musil is a trained urban planner affiliated to the AUSser joint research unit hosted by the Paris Belleville Architecture School (France). His research interests concern urbanization processes in East and Southeast Asian cities, in particular the integration of transportation and land use policies, as well as the role of international donors in the development of Asian cities.

11

Large Infrastructure Projects The Emergence of Corridors in Asia Amogh Arakali and Jyothi Koduganti Abstract Asia is witnessing a substantial increase in large-scale infrastructure projects, often in the form of regional corridors. In this chapter, we analyze the emergence of corridors in Asia and attempt to place it within the economic, political, and social contexts within which this emergence is taking place. We delineate the key characteristics of Asian corridors and examine cases of Japan, India, and Malaysia to draw out their common characteristics. We argue that corridors are spatial forms seeking to integrate regions by transcending existing political and economic boundaries while remaining tied to a particular set of economic objectives. In our conclusion, we argue that in order for corridors to effectively integrate regions, the objectives of corridor planning need to be broadened. Keywords: corridors, Asia, infrastructure, planning, regions, economy

Introduction An examination of the spatial and economic landscape in Asia reveals that the continent is witnessing a substantial increase in large-scale infrastructure projects, often specif ically in the form of regional corridors. These corridors are typically planned industrial, economic, or infrastructure projects, covering large geographical areas, often spanning national borders. They often focus on improving economic growth, trade, and industry and are strongly linked to the economic plans and strategies of their host nations. Corridors have become ubiquitous in Asia. The Asian Development Bank (ADB) is funding a series of corridors that spans across China, Myanmar,

Bracken, Gregory, Paul Rabé, R. Parthasarathy, Neha Sami & Bing Zhang (eds), Future Challenges of Cities in Asia. Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press 2020 doi: 10.5117/9789463728812_ch11

278 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

Figure 11.1 Corridors in (A) India, (B) Japan, and (C) Malaysia

Maps drawn by Ariel Shepherd

Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia, and Laos under its Greater Mekong SubRegion Economic Co-operation Program (Asian Development Bank 2016). In Central Asia, a series of corridors are being planned under the Central Asian Regional Economic Co-operation (CAREC) program, presumably to improve trade and industrial links between Central Asian nations, while acting as conduits between East Asia and Europe (Asian Development Bank 2014). Malaysia already has a series of industrial corridors while India is currently developing a similar set within its national borders, linking major urban centers such as Delhi and Mumbai. More recently, the People’s Republic of China embarked on an ambitious project called One Belt One Road (OBOR) or the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) that seeks to capitalize on the historical Silk Road network as well as linking major seaports along Asian coastlines (Rolland 2015). The government of Japan has even proposed a “peace corridor” in the Middle East, involving Israel, Palestine, and Jordan, to promote regional co-operation (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan 2006). In this chapter, we analyze the emergence of corridors in Asia and attempt to place it within the economic, political, and social contexts

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

279

within which this emergence is taking place. We first outline the spatial, economic, and political contexts within which corridors have begun to emerge in Asia. Following this, we outline the key characteristics of corridors in Asia and examine specif ic cases of Japan, India, and Malaysia to draw out common characteristics of corridors. We argue that corridors are primarily spatial forms that seek to integrate regions by transcending existing political and economic boundaries while remaining tied to a particular set of economic objectives and goals. In our conclusion, we critique this notion and argue that in order for corridors to effectively integrate regions, the objectives of corridor planning need to be broadened. We also acknowledge the link between corridors and urbanization processes taking place across Asia at the moment. As more regions across Asia become urbanized, corridors are emerging as spatial forms that integrate disparate urban centers into more cohesive regional areas. The corridor acts as a site for many of the opportunities and challenges of the Asian city presented in this book to play out at a regional urban scale. Such transformations are not just physical but also economic and political, with corridors often operating under their own governance structures, independent of local governments, formed with specific economic or business agendas. It also throws open the arena for complex ownership and environmental contestations in the middle of these novel governance regimes. When integrated with other types of large-scale infrastructural development (such as the development of megalopolises or smart cities), Asian corridor projects can have significant impacts on patterns of urbanization in the continent. We can expect comparable trajectories of urbanization and challenges in Africa and Latin America, which are experiencing a similar development of economic corridors. The introduction to this book mentions that recent years have seen a radical change in the form, nature, and extent of urbanization across the globe. Previous assumptions of “cities” being “qualitatively specific” and distinct from nonurban spaces are now being revised, while the “urban” can no longer be seen as a particular type of settlement. We believe that corridors represent an important factor in this shift of thinking. Corridors differ from conventional notions of cities not only in terms of physical and spatial characteristics; they are also singularly representative of urbanization taking place at larger scales than those of conventional cities. As a result, they recast the notion of what is conventionally “urban,” and by extension, induce us to re-examine our notions of urbanization.

280 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

The contexts for the emergence of corridors: Transformations in economic planning leading to changes in the role of space Asia’s socioeconomic and political landscape in the latter half of the twentieth century was varied – Japan was rebuilding its economy after World War II, Vietnam was fractured through a conflict with the United States, China adopted a communist style of government characterized by projects such as the Great Leap Forward, Singapore focused on integrating itself with world markets as a center for international trade, and India adopted a mixed-economy model with heavy emphasis on public-sector dominance and large public projects. By and large though, there seemed to be a recognition that economic planning needed to be carried out at the national level, with a country’s national government designing plans and strategies to increase growth, development, and well-being. The nation-state, therefore, was the predominant political and economic entity on the world stage. This was reflected in plans and strategies as well – for instance, India’s political structure gave greater powers to the central (national) government than to the states, while its five-year economic plans placed a strong emphasis on achieving national goals. These notions of planning began to be challenged toward the end of the twentieth century. The earliest challenges came from within the nation-state model itself, as certain nation-states witnessed increases in growth and development by integrating themselves more closely with international markets. Japan was a key example, as it created an environment where Japanese companies could produce and export large numbers of automobiles and electronic goods to European and American markets. Singapore became another example: its early focus on becoming a center for world trade paid off in terms of high economic growth and prosperity. However, the argument against relatively closed markets received a boost in the 1990s. The collapse of the Cold War order was succeeded by a growing international emphasis on globalization. This included the establishment of the World Trade Organization in 1995 and the adoption of global agreements such as the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) by a large number of countries. The export-oriented growth model was taken up by a number of Asian countries, including South-East Asian economies such as Thailand and Malaysia. While the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997 brought out some challenges to this model, the subsequent global rise of China on the back of cheap exports ensured that it continued to be espoused in Asia. This period witnessed the emergence of new entities that challenged the dominance of the nation-state as the major economic actor on world

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

281

markets. Multinational companies, private corporations operating across national jurisdictions, grew in prominence. In countries like China, city and regional governments were given greater autonomy, allowing them to devise separate economic strategies to bring in investment. The opening of national economies to world markets was frequently supported by international entities such as the World Bank and the IMF, which often made such liberalization and globalization strategies a prerequisite while providing financial support to countries (Stiglitz 2003). As the heterogeneity of actors on the international stage increased, perceptions of geographic space with respect to economic plans and strategies changed as well. During the early postwar period, geographic space was seen as subservient to the plans and strategies of the nation-state and, therefore, the transformation of space reflected the dominance of the nation-state as an entity. One such example was the creation of steel towns such as Bhilai and Bokaro in central India – while ostensibly planned with multiple objectives (including the development of economically “backward” regions), a key goal of steel towns was to facilitate the production and distribution of steel in the national economy. The spatial structure of the steel town was often that of an autonomous township, with a governance structure independent of the local political system, nevertheless subject to direct control by a public sector company operating under the national government. As the economic and political landscape changed, so did perceptions of geography. On the one hand, national borders were increasingly seen as porous, open for business to certain multinational actors and multilateral institutions. On the other hand, the simultaneous opening of economies across the world saw an increase in investment choices for global capital, leading to competition between locations to attract investment. Thus, while national borders on the whole became relatively less important, the nature and characteristics of the country, the state, and the location became increasingly crucial to attracting investment. Highlighting comparative advantages of a particular location for international investment became a major exercise for governments at all levels. These changes had an impact on spatial planning. Cities and regions were no longer planned for national but for international markets. The Indian steel township in a remote location gave way to information technology parks located in prominent metropolitan areas, themselves aspiring to become world-class cities. Infrastructure such as airports, highways, and Internet connectivity became tools to highlight comparative advantages in location. Economic policies were restructured to reduce barriers to international business.

282 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

Simultaneously, the new fluidity of national borders led to changes in the structures of production chains across the world. It became easier for multinational businesses to break their production activities down into smaller components, and relocate specific components of the chain to cheaper places. China became the receptacle for many such manufacturing activities (such as component assembly) while India and the Philippines specialized in outsourced service-based activities such as call centers. Production chains could now be dispersed across multiple locations. As a result of these changes, the goals of the nation-state transformed as well. While nation-states still pursue an ostensible national agenda, the goal is rarely to create a self-sufficient national market for goods and services. Instead, the last 20 or 30 years have seen a much greater emphasis on generating welfare by integrating specific locations within the country to international markets. Due to the emphasis on location, spatial strategies are reoriented toward transforming the given location to address global and international requirements. The emergence of the corridor in Asia as a dominant spatial and economic form in recent years needs to be seen as a later stage in the transformations described above. The development of a fractured global economic landscape where multiple locations compete with each other to attract capital investments has increased incentives for proximate locations to consolidate into larger regions, combining comparative advantages of each separate location.

Characteristics of corridors Asian corridors share some common characteristics. First, they emphasize the development of large-scale infrastructure which link economically vibrant or productive regions. For instance, the Delhi-Mumbai Industrial Corridor (DMIC) in India is positioned around a freight railway line connecting the states between Delhi and Mumbai (Anand et al. 2015). Apart from the fact that Delhi and Mumbai are significantly vibrant regions in terms of economic and industrial growth, the DMIC also passes through Indian states such as Gujarat and Maharashtra, which have historically been some of the more economically well-developed parts of the country (Anand et al. 2015). On the other hand, the CAREC Corridors in Central Asia emphasize the importance of linking key international markets across Central Asia (Asian Development Bank 2015, 6-11). China’s OBOR or BRI makes similar arguments, linking nearby countries on the traditional silk routes through transportation infrastructure (Dollar 2015).

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

283

The emphasis on linkage is also accompanied by a demonstration of crossing or transcending existing boundaries, some of which are international political borders. The argument often made is of a need to integrate hitherto separated regions, under the assumption that such integration is economically beneficial for the combined geographical area. Therefore, corridors are seen as transcendent spaces, with physical infrastructure serving as a mechanism to “fly over” existing political and physical boundaries for the sake of economic growth and development. Thus, many corridors in Asia are not restricted to a single country, but span multiple countries with differing political, social, and economic characteristics. Even in examples where corridors are restricted to single countries (such as India), corridors cross multiple state boundaries and there is often an emphasis on creating integrated regions which transcend individual states. Furthermore, corridors restricted to individual countries can also be planned with the idea of extending them across international borders in the future. For example, corridors being developed on India’s east coast are being linked to projects in the larger South Asia subregion, including countries like Bangladesh and Myanmar (ENS Economic Bureau 2016). At the same time, it should be noted that these corridors do not focus merely on linkages or linkage-based infrastructure. Many of them span vast geographical areas, covering significant portions of the countries they are based in, and proposals usually emphasize the economic and industrial development of the regions they cover. For instance, while India’s DMIC uses a freight railway line as a reference for its alignment, the “project influence area” (i.e., the geographical area which the DMIC is expected to affect in terms of economy and development) covers 150-200 km on either side of the freight line, thus covering significant portions of the six states it passes through (Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion 2007). Similarly, each corridor in Malaysia’s MyCorridor project spans a significant section of the country, with the combined set of corridors affecting every major region in Malaysia (MAMPU 2012). Additionally, the corridor is not a single or unitary form but can encompass multiple spatial economic forms within it. Apart from railway lines and road links, corridor projects often involve the development of industrial and urban spaces. These could include factories, office complexes, industrial parks, logistics parks, ports, industrial townships, airports or aerotropolises, special economic zones, investment regions, and smart cities. Very often, a corridor can include a range of such spaces, ostensibly planned to utilize the comparative economic advantages of each subregion within the corridor, thereby increasing the economic potential of the corridor as a whole.

284 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

These spaces can be individual projects in themselves, often implemented somewhat autonomously from the corridor and thus constitute individually significant investments of capital and labor. Lastly, a common feature of these corridors is that their development is undertaken by a range of national and international entities, with stakeholders from both public and private backgrounds. At the same time, the institutional structures of corridor planning seem to replicate the physical emphasis on linkages, cross-boundary integration, as well as the focus on economic, trade, and industrial development. The development of India’s DMIC, for instance, involves government bodies for industry and commerce (at both national and state levels) and the expertise of private consultants, with significant funding and support from the Japan Bank for International Co-operation (JBIC) and, hence, the government of Japan. Similarly, China recently spearheaded the creation of the Asian Infrastructure and Investment Bank (AIIB), a ten-nation-member entity to fund large-scale infrastructure for economic development in Asia (and presumably, the OBOR or BRI project). At the same time, parties and entities who have stakes in the same geographical areas can be left out while other entities can be brought in. For example, on one hand, in India, local governments of existing cities falling within the project influence area of the DMIC are not included in the planning process (Anand et al. 2015). On the other hand, the DMIC specifically envisions the creation of special-purpose vehicles (SPVs) for new cities being developed in the corridor (Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion 2007). Therefore, just as the corridor is seen as a transcendent space that moves across existing boundaries, the planning and governance structures of the corridors also function in administrative domains which ignore traditional jurisdictions, based upon logics different from conventional spatial planning. This brings us to a final but important feature common to corridors, which is that administratively they also allow for a blurring of the boundaries which conventionally existed between economic and urban planning. While the boundary between the two has never been rigid, the past few decades have seen a steady erosion of the same, with the development of cities being strongly associated with larger goals of national and state economic development, rather than the creation of spaces for people to live and work in. Specifically, this erosion has manifested itself in the argument of cities as “engines of economic growth” (Cadena et al. 2011, 21), the need for “worldclass” cities to attract investments (Flowerdew 2004; Pandey 2016; Ghertner 2015), the rise of city-sized special economic zones (or SEZs) (O’Donnell 2011),

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

285

and, most recently, in the emergence of the “smart city” narrative (McNeill 2015). The corridors in Asia, envisioned as they are today, essentially involve the transformation of large geographical spaces to produce previously determined economic outcomes. In short, they can become the regional equivalent of the “engines of economic growth” argument and, therefore, create an opportunity for large-scale production of urban spaces oriented toward economic objectives.

The case of Japan The economic advantages of such an integrated region were clearly realized in Japan. In the 1970s and 1980s, the Japanese government began constructing a high-speed rail link between Tokyo and Osaka. Over time, this construction of a rail link morphed into the general development of infrastructure around this linked region. This led to the development of what is today known as the Taiheiyo belt or Tokaido corridor, an integrated economic region in Japan that is responsible for generating a majority of the country’s growth and housing most of its residents. Unlike more recent examples, the Japanese corridor experience was not initially planned as such. The modernization of rail and road links in Japan took place under the country’s second postwar national plan of 1969 in response to externalities which arose from previous planning experiments. Tanimura et al. (2001) note that the first national plan of 1962 emphasized a “growth pole” theory of industrial decentralization where a number of new industrial centers were developed, mostly along Japan’s Pacific coast. Apart from the fact that the nation’s infrastructure was inadequate to meet the increased demand from high economic growth, the first plan’s development strategies took place at the expense of environmental pollution (Tanimura et al. 2001). This lead to a rise in citizen protests against industrial plants and highway interchanges (Sorenson 2005). The second national plan therefore aimed to improve transportation networks, allowing people from anywhere in Japan to conduct business in Tokyo in just a one-day trip (Tanimura et al. 2001). Additionally, following the establishment of an urban policy forum that emphasized the need to formulate an integrated national policy on land use, it sought to relocate large industrial establishments away from major metropolitan centers (Tanimura et al. 2001). The 1960s also saw a new city planning law that was aimed at containing sprawl (Sorenson 2005). The establishment of high-speed rail corridors and integrated highways in Japan need to be seen in these contexts.

286 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

Furthermore, Japan’s third national plan of 1977 shifted the focus from migration to “social stabilization.” This plan period saw the emergence of an “integrated settlement zone” concept based on using drainage regions as a unit to achieve balance between available water resources and water demand. At the same time, under the Masayoshi Ohira government, the “garden city” concept, aimed at balancing countryside and urban growth, became popular (Tanimura et al. 2001). The combination of integrated settlement zones with concepts such as the garden city along with an emphasis on social stabilization resulted in the growing prominence of integrated regional planning in Japan. At the same time, the emergence of the Tokaido corridor needs to be seen in the context of systems of governance that existed in postwar Japan. Planning in Japan has been strongly influenced by heavily centralized governance systems directed by the national government. Sorenson argues that though independent local (prefecture) governments and a decentralized planning system were formally adopted after World War II, their implementation was stubbornly resisted by central government bureaucracy (Sorenson 2005). Though 80% of all government spending takes place at the local level, local governments have autonomous control of only 30% of total revenues. The remainder is provided from the center in the form of specific grants whose content is controlled by central government ministries (Tanimura et al. 2001). Furthermore, the chief policy maker for prefectural governments is often an official appointed by the center (Tanimura et al. 2001). It can be argued that the strict control of planning by central governments has led to a situation where national and regional agendas were given greater priority over local objectives. Furthermore, this centralization was accompanied by an ideology of the developmental state (Johnson 1982, 17-19), which placed heavy emphasis on national reconstruction (following World War II) and rapid growth. The Tokaido corridor in Japan is one of the earlier examples of industrial and economic corridors which emerged in Asia. While it was not initially planned as such, it evolved through a combination of national and regional planning strategies implemented by a governance system strongly controlled by a centralized bureaucracy. By most measures it is a success, concentrating much of Japan’s manufacturing and population. Given the position of Japan as one of Asia’s biggest and most successful economies in the twentieth century, the success of its corridor experience led to its emulation by other countries such as India and Malaysia in later decades. In other words, the emergence of the corridor as a model of spatial and economic planning in Asia is heavily rooted in the Japanese experience.

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

287

The Indian and Malaysian examples Lisa Hoffman, in her study of China, notes that modeling as a mode of governing the urban draws on disparate rationalities, sites of actions, and ways of knowing (Hoffman 2011). Urban governments across China have been encouraged to reach environmental targets by adopting measures and governmental rationalities proven elsewhere, such that the interreferencing of cities itself has become an “embodiment of the implementation of urban sustainable development” (Hoffman 2011). The corridor serves as an example where interreferencing has moved beyond cities to cover larger regions. As mentioned by Hoffman, the “model” of a corridor can be built with elements drawn from multiple rationalities, sites, and bodies of knowledge, and are then physically brought to life at regional and international scales (Hoffman 2011). The success of Japan’s Taiheiyo belt and the Japanese experience of urban and regional planning has been particularly successful in serving as such a model for corridors in Asia. While Japan’s historical experiences can differ from many other Asian countries, there are certain similarities, such as the strong centralization of governance, the five-year planning exercise, the yoking of local governments to national objectives, and relatively weak nongovernmental and civil society actors, which allow for other countries to see themselves in positions similar to Japan, thereby rationalizing the need to replicate experiences such as the Taiheiyo belt. Japan is not the only Asian country whose experiences are referenced by her neighbors – China, South Korea, Singapore, and the UAE are also frequently referenced within Asian planning, to say nothing of experiences from the West and the Global North. Nevertheless, the Japanese experience is interesting since Japan itself has been deeply involved in promoting and developing regional infrastructure projects across Asia. Apart from directly funding projects through agencies such as the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), it is also a significant contributor to multilateral bodies such as the Asian Development Bank (ADB), which in turn funds several corridor projects in Southeast and Central Asia. Furthermore, it remains an enthusiastic promoter of the corridor model. Thus, the casting of a corridor as a model that can be emulated across countries has both push and pull factors. Several Asian countries have adopted this model and are experimenting with it in their own contexts. We now examine two such planned corridors, in India and Malaysia. Both these projects are located entirely within one country, are envisioned to cover significantly large sections of their respective countries, and engage a

288 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

multiplicity of actors while at the same time being envisioned and curated by their national governments. Both projects began roughly around the same time, in the mid-to-late 2000s. Both of them informally reference other Asian examples. A prominent example of large-scale corridors in India is the DelhiMumbai Industrial Corridor (DMIC). The DMIC was conceived as a “model industrial corridor of international standards with emphasis on expanding the manufacturing and services base and develop DMIC as the Global Manufacturing and Trading Hub” (Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion 2007). It spans six states in the north and west of India: Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Gujarat, and Maharashtra, and the developmental planning for DMIC specifies the following project goals: – double employment potential in five years (14.87% CAGR); – triple industrial output in five years (24.57% CAGR); – quadruple exports from the region in five years (31.95% CAGR). At the time of the concept paper’s publication, the project influence area was estimated to cover about 178 million people, including ten cities with a population of more than 1 million and six cities with a population between 0.5 and 1 million. Economy-wise, the project influence area covers states which together contribute about 50% of the country’s agricultural produce from principal crops, and 60% of overall exports (Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion 2007). Thus, it can be seen that the DMIC has been conceived to operate at a relatively large scale, impacting a significantly large section of India’s land mass and population. Similar to the DMIC, the Malaysian corridors comprise projects integrating infrastructure, economic, and industrial development over large geographic areas of the country. Between 2006 and 2010, under the Ninth Malaysian Plan, the federal government of Malaysia announced a series of five economic corridors. According to the website of the Malaysian corridors program, these corridors were an attempt to stimulate global and domestic investment in traditionally rural areas to create balanced development throughout the country. The five planned corridors included the following: – the East Coast Economic Region; – the Sabah Development Corridor; – the Sarawak Corridor for Renewable Energy; – the Northern Corridor Economic Region; – Iskandar Malaysia in Southern Johor. (Malaysia Investment Development Authority, n.d.)

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

289

The corridors can cover significantly large regions. The Sarawak Corridor for Renewable Energy, or SCORE, claims to cover an area of more than 77,000 km2, affecting a population of more than 600,000 people (Regional Corridor Development Authority 2016b). SCORE claims to build upon the abundant supplies of inexpensive energy resources available within the region to attract energy-intensive industries. SCORE’s website claims that as more energy-intensive industries are established in the region, they will form “the bedrock of SCORE strategy, giving a robust boost to the development of the growth nodes which in turn will require training centers and technical colleges to train the population and create a core of skilled workers, thereby raising the living standards of the population.” The 2008-2030 development plan for SCORE targets ten priority sectors: aluminum, glass industries, steel, oil-based industries, palm oil, fishing and aquaculture, livestock, timber-based industries, marine, and tourism (Regional Corridor Development Authority 2016a). Similarly, the Northern Corridor Economic Region (the Koridor Utara) plans to focus on “accelerating economic growth and elevating income levels in northern Peninsular Malaysia with the objective of becoming a world-class economic region by the year 2025” (Northern Corridor Implementation Authority 2016). It occupies the northern states of Perlis, Kedah, Pulau Pinang, and northern Perak (districts of Hulu Perak, Kerian, Kuala Kangsar, and LarutMatang-Selama) to form the region covering an area of 17,816 km2 . Just as SCORE plans to exploit its comparative advantage in energy, Koridor Utara claims to leverage “the existing economic achievements of the region in electronics, tourism and agriculture, as well as its strategic location bordering Thailand and facing the Malacca Straits” (Northern Corridor Implementation Authority 2016). Some differences between the Indian and Malaysian corridors can be seen in the economic activities they envisage holding. Malaysian corridors are focused very specifically on specific sectors, such as renewable energy or tourism, while the DMIC’s focus is somewhat less focused and more generalized. Nevertheless, they exhibit enough similarities to conform to a general model of corridors. In India, the Delhi-Mumbai Industrial Corridor Development Corporation (DMICDC) acts as the nodal agency for planning and implementation of the DMIC at the national level. However, many of the planning and implementation responsibilities are shared between the union and the state governments (Anand et al. 2015). Therefore, state governments play an important role in the DMIC and each state has specific institutional structures in place to oversee the planning and implementation of projects at the state level.

290 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

The state of Gujarat, for example, has an extensive institutional system for industrial and economic development that it has employed to plan and implement DMIC projects. The state had established the Gujarat Infrastructure Development Board (GIDB) in 1999 via a legislative act (Government of Gujarat 1999). The GIDB was established with the specific objective of allowing participants other than the state to take part in infrastructure construction in the state (Government of Gujarat 1999). The 1999 act also reflects the changing sensibilities in policy circles at the time, when postliberalization governments at both the center and state-level were transitioning from their role in economic development of provider to that of facilitator. Apart from setting up institutions, the government of Gujarat also had in place policies that allowed for aligning with the objectives of the DMIC. In 2009, the government passed the Special Investment Region (SIR) Act, which allowed the state government to demarcate large territories within its jurisdictions as “special investment regions” (SIRs) (Government of Gujarat 2009). While covering extensive geographic areas, SIRs were designed to be managed by specialized regional development authorities (RDAs) operating under the direct supervision of the state government. All SIRs in the state were required to be supervised by an apex SIR authority (Government of Gujarat 2009). As it happened, the government appointed the Gujarat Infrastructure Development Board (GIDB) to this role (Gujarat Infrastructure Development Board n.d.). Gujarat was open to the development of the DMIC in the state, given its institutions with a history of facilitating industrial and infrastructure projects as well as its legislation that allowed for setting up large investment regions. The GIDB has been mandated to act as the nodal agency for the implementation of the DMIC in Gujarat, while the SIR Act has been employed to plan and develop nodes along the corridor in the state. With the GIDB mandated as both the nodal agency for the DMIC in Gujarat, as well as the apex authority for SIRs in the state, coordinating the creation of nodes under the SIR Act is presumably simplified. Other states soon followed suit using Gujarat’s SIR Act as a template. There is a SIR being developed within Dholera, the principal node identified within Gujarat, called the DSIR and the GIDB’s website mentions that Dholera SIR is “to be the most prime location” within the DMIC in Gujarat. The Dholera SIR website acknowledges the link to the DMIC (Dholera SIR Development Authority 2016a). The project vision for the Dholera SIR also envisages the SIR as a “global manufacturing and trading hub” and “creating and enabling an environment to protect local industries, enhance investment climate, improve quality of life, upgrade human skills, create world class

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

291

infrastructure and attract global investment” (Dholera SIR Development Authority 2016b). Other states have similar institutions in place to oversee and supervise the implementation of the DMIC within their jurisdictions. Rajasthan, for example, has assigned the responsibilities of supervising DMIC projects to the state’s Bureau of Investment Promotion (BIP) (Anand et al. 2015). While there may be some differences in structure and jurisdictions of these organizations, the overall emphasis on promoting economic, industrial, trade, and business growth is quite clear. While there are differences in the contexts of corridor development in Malaysia and India, we note that much of the language and terminology used to describe the agencies in charge of implementation is similar in both countries. Iskandar Malaysia, for instance, is overseen by the Iskandar Regional Development Authority (IRDA), similar to the DMICDC. IRDA is established under a statutory act, the Iskandar Regional Development Act of 2007, which charges it to provide for the proper direction, policies and strategies in relation to development within the Iskandar Development Region, to provide for co-ordination between government agencies to promote trade, investment and development within the Iskandar Development Region, and to provide for matters connected therewith or ancillary thereto. (Government of Malaysia 2007)

The act specifies that IRDA is a corporate body with the power to enter into contracts, acquire and dispose of property. Interestingly, the act allows IRDA to prescribe “national policies, direction and strategies in relation to development within the Iskandar Development Region and other functions” (Government of Malaysia 2007). Though we could not confirm this, this may imply that IRDA has powers to supersede other higher government authorities on matters related to Iskandar Malaysia. If so, this contrasts sharply with India, where state authorities co-ordinate their activities with an overseeing DMICDC. The Indian and Malaysian corridor experiences serve as useful examples for how the same spatial model – the corridor – has come to be adopted by different countries and adapted to specific national requirements and objectives. In some ways, the corridor is a transcendent space, crossing existing borders and integrating regions which had previously been divided. At the same time, it remains subservient to very specific interests and objectives

292 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

operating at national and international scales. These interests are economic and commercial, focusing on a very particular notion of economic development that is tied to formal businesses and industries. Local governments, particularly in the hinterlands of the corridor region, are largely ignored.

Conclusion In many ways, the pattern of development seen in regional corridors is not different from the modeling and interreferencing of urban experiences across Asia (Roy and Ong 2011). What is different is the scale of operation. What was earlier being adopted at the scale of a building, block, or neighborhood is now being applied to cities and entire regions. The adoption of the corridor at international scales, connecting large regions such as the Mekong subregion and Central Asia, promises to cover significant portions of a continent. In contexts of urbanization processes across Asia, corridor development assumes additional significance. Current models of corridors allow for the spatialization of a very particular type of economic planning, dependent on organized business and industry linked strongly to global supply chains, for development. At the same time, as mentioned above, corridors allow for urban planning experiences to be scaled up, from neighborhoods and cities to regions and countries. However, given that very specific economic objectives are being spatialized within the corridor simultaneously, the resulting set of conceivable urban forms is likely to be limited and specific as well. Special economic zones, industrial townships, information technology enclaves, international financial centers, and export promotion zones are some forms likely to emerge within such corridors. Conventional settlements in the corridor such as villages, towns, and (traditional) cities will either transform to adhere to such forms or operate outside the jurisdiction of corridor authorities, with no formal benefits. These consequences are important given the large, often deeply heterogeneous spaces that corridors cover. When the planning of heterogeneous spaces becomes subservient to limited and specific objectives, certain other interests in these spaces are often bypassed. In cities, this has led to scenarios of splintered urbanisms. It is quite conceivable that a similar implementation at larger scales could see similar types of splintering. The transformation of space to address economic or industrial imperatives also comes into conflict with alternative trajectories of development which are evolving at the same time in the same geographic locations. As a result, conflicts are likely to emerge over the nature of spatial transformations, their impacts on underlying resources such as land and water, as well as their final impacts upon targeted populations.

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

293

Furthermore, there are debates over the potential of such spaces to deliver on their intended objectives. The integration of such spaces with international markets and global value chains renders them quite sensitive to global economic scenarios. Following the 2008 global financial crisis and the consequent recession, the world economy has been characterized by slowing growth and declining trade, leading some scholars to argue that the world economy has entered a period of “secular stagnation” (Dehejia 2016). In any case, demand for exports, as envisaged by projects like the DMIC, are likely to be lower in the near future and as a consequence, stimulus for industrial, export-oriented growth within these newly created spaces is likely to be subdued. Nevertheless, Asian economies still face significant challenges in delivering adequate standards of living to their populations. Many Asian economies, including India, need to generate high levels of meaningful employment for their working populations, ensure access to resources such as water, and build adequate public infrastructure for education and health – all of which require healthy growing economies. Furthermore, they have to achieve these goals in the face of several serious challenges. Apart from a slowing global economy, a growing emphasis on cheap automation in manufacturing is cutting down the number of manufacturing jobs available worldwide (Michaels and Graetz 2015; Roubini 2014). Most importantly, climate change is emerging as a serious threat to many countries in Asia, rendering large areas and populations vulnerable to disasters such as heat waves, cyclones, and rising sea levels. It is uncertain at this point to what extent the transformations of space to create sites such as corridors will address issues of development in Asia. In a scenario such as secular stagnation, where an export-led strategy is unlikely to yield significant benefits, the use of space may have to be reoriented more toward addressing domestic markets and demands. Furthermore, it is likely that in the face of factors like climate change, conflicts between different trajectories of development are likely to intensify. In 2015, Indonesia had to grapple with the trade-offs between clearing its peatlands for palm oil cultivation and dealing with resulting environmental destruction and greenhouse gas emissions from the burning of peat (Mongabay 2015). In India, conflicts over water between different sectors such as farming and industry as well as between urban and rural populations are increasing (Bhatnagar 2015; Gowhar 2016). In such circumstances, it may no longer be feasible for spatial strategies to concentrate on singular objectives (such as attracting business or industry); rather, they may need to address and accommodate multiple developmental pathways. It is likely that large-scale developmental projects will need to

294 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

address not just the development of industrial or economic infrastructure but also other concerns of environmental conservation, agricultural development, resource-use efficiency, and inclusive, equitable growth. This, in turn, requires the institutional and policy regimes governing these spaces to be significantly altered, allowing for multiple stakeholders and affected populations to be included in planning and strategy. The evolution of corridors in Asia will also play a crucial role in determining patterns of urbanization in the continent. The formation of integrated urban regions will have significant impacts on the way settlements evolve, particularly if their growth is tied to specific economic factors such as the needs of global supply chains. Urban areas that are economically and politically linked to corridors are more likely to respond to global and international factors than those delinked from corridors, which are more likely to respond to other unrelated factors, even if they are geographically proximate to corridors. An urban landscape may evolve that is economically and politically fragmented at regional and national scales. Furthermore, as experiences of urbanization scale up to regions and countries, the conflicts and contradictions of contemporary urban planning, previously restricted to cities and towns, will witness new translations at higher scales. Urban theory from Asia will therefore have to deal with new dimensions, scales, and experiences.

Acknowledgments Research for this article was supported by a grant from the International Growth Centre (IGC). The authors would like to thank Neha Sami and Shriya Anand for their support and Antara Roy Chowdhary for her research assistance.

References Anand, Shriya, Amogh Arakali, Arindam Jana, Jyothi Koduganti, and Neha Sami. 2015. “Manufacturing Cities: Industrial Policy and Urban Growth.” Indian Institute for Human Settlements. http://iihs.co.in/knowledge-gateway/ industrial-policy-and-urban-growth/. Asian Development Bank. 2014. “Operationalizing Economic Corridors in Central Asia: A Case Study of the Almaty-Bishkek Corridor.” https://www.adb.org/sites/ default/files/publication/153330/economic-corridors-central-asia.pdf.

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

295

Asian Development Bank. 2015. “From Landlocked to Linked In.” https://www.adb. org/sites/default/files/publication/148729/landlocked-linked.pdf. Asian Development Bank. 2016. “Overview of the Greater Mekong Subregion.” http://www.adb.org/countries/gms/overview. Bhatnagar, Gaurav Vivek. 2015. “Haryana to Approach SC on SYL Canal.” The Hindu. http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/other-states/haryana-to-approachsc-on-syl-canal/article6854232.ece. Cadena, Andres, Jaana Remes, James Manyika, Richard Dobbs, Charles Roxburgh, Heinz-Peter Elstrodt, Alberto Chaia, and Alejandra Restrepo. 2011. “Building Globally Competitive Cities: The Key to Latin American Growth.” McKinsey Global Institute, August. Dehejia, Vivek. 2016. “What Explains the Great Global Slowdown?” Mint, 19 March. http://www.livemint.com/Sundayapp/3xPuTVLNtWg18UxR90PpqI/Whatexplains-the-great-global-slowdown.html. Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion. 2007. “Concept Paper: DelhiMumbai Industrial Corridor.” Government of India .http://www.dmicdc.com/ frmDownloads.aspx?pgid=43. Dholera SIR Development Authority. 2016a. “Project Implementation.” http:// dholerasir.com/projectimplementationframework.aspx. Dholera SIR Development Authority. 2016b. “Vision for DMIC.” http://dholerasir. com/visionfordmic.aspx. Dollar, David. 2015. “China’s Rise as a Regional and Global Power: The AIIB and the ‘One Belt, One Road.’” Brookings, 15 July. https://www.brookings.edu/research/ chinas-rise-as-a-regional-and-global-power-the-aiib-and-the-one-belt-one-road/. ENS Economic Bureau. 2016. “With ADB Aid, India to Develop Regional Infra Projects of $5 Bn: Shaktikanta Das” Indian Express, 11 May. http://indianexpress. com/article/business/business-others/with-adb-aid-india-to-develop-regionalinfra-projects-of-5-bn-shaktikanta-das-2794400/. Flowerdew, John. 2004. “The Discursive Construction of a World-Class City.” Discourse & Society 15(5): 579-605. Ghertner, D. Asher. 2015. Rule by Aesthetics: World-Class City Making in Delhi. New York: Oxford University Press. Government of Gujarat. 1999. “Gujarat Infrastructure Development Act.” Gujarat Government Gazette, 5 October. http://www.giic.gujarat.gov.in/writereaddata/ images/pdf/I-Branch_266_06_05_2006_259.pdf. Government of Gujarat. 2009. “Gujarat Act No. 2 of 2009 (Special Investment Region Act).” http://www.gidb.org/pdf/sirord.pdf. Government of Malaysia. 2007. “Laws of Malaysia Act 664: Iskandar Regional Development Authority Act 2007.” Percetakan Nasional Malaysia Berhad. http:// www.irda.com.my/pdf/IRDA-ACT-2007/IRDA_Act_2007_EN.pdf.

296 

Amogh Ar ak ali and Jyothi Koduganti

Gowhar, Imran. 2016. “10,000 Farmers from Kolar, Chikkaballapur Stage Protest March in City.” The Hindu, 3 March 2016. http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/ bangalore/10000-farmers-from-kolar-chickballapur-stage-protest-march-in-city/ article8309199.ece. Gujarat Infrastructure Development Board. n.d. “GIDB as Apex Authority.” http:// www.gidb.org/about-us-gidb-as-apex-authority. Hoffman, Lisa. 2011. “Urban Modeling and Contemporary Technologies of CityBuilding in China: The Production of Regimes of Green Urbanisms.” In Worlding Cities, ed. Ananya Roy and Aihwa Ong. Chichester: Blackwell Publishing, 55-76. Johnson, Chalmers. 1982. MITI and the Japanese Miracle: The Growth of Industrial Policy, 1925-1975. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Malaysia Investment Development Authority. n.d. “Malaysia Economic Corridors.” http://www.mida.gov.my/home/malaysia-economic-corridors/posts/. MAMPU. 2012. “Economic Corridors: Your Gateway to Investing in Malaysia – Introduction.” Malaysian Administrative Modernisation and Management Planning Unit. http://www.mycorridor.malaysia.gov.my/IC/Pages/Introduction.aspx. McNeill, Donald. 2015. “Global Firms and Smart Technologies: IBM and the Reduction of Cities.” Transactions 40(4): 562-574. Michaels, Guy, and Georg Graetz. 2015. “Estimating the Impact of Robots on Productivity and Employment.” Vox.Eu. http://voxeu.org/article/ robots-productivity-and-jobs. Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan. 2006. “Japan’s Concept for Creating the Corridor for Peace and Prosperity (Background Paper).” http://www.mofa.go.jp/region/ middle_e/palestine/concept0607.html. Mongabay. 2015. “Indonesia Bans Peatlands Destruction.” Mongabay, 10 November. https://news.mongabay.com/2015/11/indonesia-bans-peatlands-destruction/. Northern Corridor Implementation Authority. 2016. “About Northern Corridor Economic Region (Koridor Utara).” http://www.koridorutara.com.my/wwa_2_intro. html. Accessed on 5 August 2016. O’Donnell, Mary Ann. 2011. “Becoming Hong Kong, Razing Baoan, Preserving Xin’an: An Ethnographic Account of Urbanization in the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone.” Cultural Studies 15(3-4): 419-443. Pandey, Navadha. 2016. “A Capital Idea for a World-Class City.” Business Line, 26 February. http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/specials/a-capital-ideafor-a-worldclass-city/article8285612.ece. Regional Corridor Development Authority. 2016a. “Priority Sectors.” http://www. recoda.com.my/priority-sectors/. Regional Corridor Development Authority. 2016b. “What Is SCORE?” http://www. recoda.com.my/invest-in-score/what-is-score/.

Large Infr astruc ture Projec ts

297

Rolland, Nadege. 2015. “China’s New Silk Road.” National Bureau of Asian Research. http://www.nbr.org/research/activity.aspx?id=531. Roubini, Nouriel. 2014. “Where Will All the Workers Go?” Project Syndicate. https:// www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/technology-labor-automation-roboticsby-nouriel-roubini-2014-12?barrier=true. Roy, Ananya, and Aihwa Ong, eds. 2011. Worlding Cities: Asian Experiments and the Art of Being Global. Chichester: Blackwell. Sorenson, Andre. 2005. “The Developmental State and the Extreme Narrowness of the Public Realm: The 20th Century Evolution of Japanese Planning Culture.” In Comparative Planning Cultures, ed. Bishwapriya Sanyal. Abingdon: Routledge. 223-258. Stiglitz, Joseph. 2003. Globalization and Its Discontents. New York: W.W. Norton. Tanimura, Paul-Hideki, and David Edgington. 2001. “National-Level Economic and Spatial Planning in Japan.” In National-Level Spatial Planning in Democratic Countries: An International Comparison of City and Regional Policy-Making, ed. Rachelle Alterman. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 197-218.

Biographies Amogh Arakali is Senior Associate, Academics & Research, Indian Institute for Human Settlements, Bengaluru, India. Jyothi Koduganti is Associate, Academics & Research, Indian Institute for Human Settlements, Bengaluru, India.



Index

2011 Thailand Floods, The 155 aesthetics of contingency 15, 23-24, 32-34 Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation (AMC) 218, 221-225, 229, 234-237 Ahmedabad Urban Development Authority (AUDA) 218, 221-225, 229, 234-237 Akshardham Temple Complex 231 alleyway 20, 103, 114, 124 arrival cities 16, 39-40, 43, 50, 54, 59 Asian Development Bank (ADB) 236, 277-278, 282, 287, 294 Asian Financial Crisis of 1997 280 Asian Infrastructure and Investment Bank (AIIB) 284 Bang Khun Thian 158, 165, 174-176 Bangkok 17, 124, 129, 155-157, 159, 161-174, 176 Bangkok Metropolitan Administration (BMA) 162-164, 166, 170-172, 175, 177 Bangkok Metropolitan Region 170 barangays 131, 133-135, 139-140, 144, 148 Beijing 83, 85, 88-90, 93-95 Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) 278 Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) 211, 217 Bureau of Investment Promotion (BIP) 291 Cagayan de Oro City 131-135, 137-139, 148 Cagayan River 134-140, 146-147, 149 canals 140-141, 162, 164-166, 173 capitalism 25, 27, 268 carbon emissions 155-157, 161, 167-168 carbon footprint/s 163, 169 Central Asian Regional Economic Cooperation (CAREC) 278, 282 Chao Phraya River Basin 173-174 China 14, 16, 18, 25-26, 28-29, 39, 41, 44, 51, 65-69, 75, 78-79, 85, 87, 91, 93, 95, 101, 104, 107, 109-111, 114, 120-121, 213, 244-245, 255, 257-258, 265, 267, 277-278, 280-282, 284, 287 Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 105, 109 Chinese tradition 25, 34, 78 chinoiserie 15, 36 climate change 13, 15-17, 132, 137, 142-143, 149, 155-157, 159-164, 166-167, 169-170, 174-177, 188, 202, 229, 236-237, 293 change adaptation 21, 142-143, 188, 206 injustice 17, 155, 157, 161, 167, 175, 177 justice 17, 155-161, 163, 176-177, 182 Climate Justice Now 156 coastal erosion 17, 155, 161, 164, 174-176 coastal flooding 156, 188 coastal vulnerability index (CVI) 184 collective land 44

community 43, 51, 54-55, 58, 67, 83, 85, 90, 107-108, 110-112, 117-118, 120, 137, 144, 158, 160, 169-172, 174-175, 186, 194, 197, 199, 203-204, 213, 228-229, 250, 263 development 51, 54-55, 153 comprehensive land use plan 132, 143, 152 connectivity 221, 222, 281 conservation 21-22, 66-71, 75, 77, 83-84, 87-89, 100, 216, 228, 294 corridors 18, 216, 221, 234, 237, 277-280, 282-289, 292, 294 coping strategies 17, 202 cultural industry 67-68, 70-71, 73-75, 82, 91-93, 95 Cultural Revolution 25, 69, 74 cultural value/s 66, 68-70, 80, 82, 93, 118 cultural strategy 16, 65-68, 72-73, 92-95 danger areas 132, 139, 142-144, 147 Delhi Development Authority (DDA) 217, 227-229, 231-237 Delhi-Mumbai Industrial Corridor 18, 218, 282, 288-289 developers 41, 55, 66-67, 82-84, 88-89, 103, 105-106, 108, 114, 120, 164-166, 217, 229, 231, 245, 251, 253, 256-258, 262 development pattern 65, 73, 79, 91 dilemma 65, 67, 82, 99, 102-103, 109 disaster risk reduction 16-17, 131-132, 142-143, 146, 203 Don Muang 170, 172 Dwarka 214, 227, 229, 231 early-warning system 202 East Coast Economic Region 288 ecological networks 209-210, 215-218, 227, 236-237 ecological planning 217 economic goal/s 65, 92 economic opportunities 13, 148, 215 economic sustainability 16, 65, 67, 95 emissions 12, 155-157, 159, 161-163, 166-169, 293 energy subsidies 168-169 engines of economic growth 13, 269, 284-285 environmental concerns 14, 17, 95, 229 European-styled buildings 99 eviction 102, 106, 119, 214, 268 exclusive land rights 24, 27-29, 33, 35-36 experiential knowledge 17, 185, 187, 197, 203-204 extreme rain event 138 floating population 40, 50-51 flood-related vulnerability 17, 183-186, 192, 194, 200-202

300  Flood Relief and Operation Centre (FROC) 170-171 floodplain/s 131, 136, 139-140, 148, 184, 190, 203, 231 French Concession 108 gated community 110 gentrification 41, 51, 82, 91, 94, 99, 104-106, 120-121 Ghaziabad 227 global city 16, 53, 83, 99, 106-107, 125-126 Global North 156, 287 Global South 15, 184 globalization 37, 124, 280-281, 297 global city 16, 52-53, 83, 99, 106-107 governance 14, 17-18, 25, 32, 39, 43, 55, 58, 133, 142-143, 155-157, 161-163, 165-167, 169, 173, 175-176, 182, 213-214, 245, 265, 267, 269-271, 279, 281, 284, 286-287 General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) 280 Greater Mekong Sub-Region Economic Co-operation Program 278, 295 Green Belt 224, 229, 235-236 Green Infrastructure (GI) 17-18, 209-211, 215218, 221-223, 225, 228-229, 231-232, 234-237 green zones 164, 165-166 Gurgaon 214, 227, 229 Hong Kong 18, 23, 31, 36, 40, 105, 111-112, 122, 182, 244-251, 253-267, 269-270 human agency 23-24, 34-36 Hundred Days’ Reform 25 hutong 70, 82, 86, 88, 90, 118, 128 HYOGO Framework 132 immanence 15, 26-28, 33, 36 informal settlements 39-40, 43, 50-51, 58, 62, 188, 214, 231 informal settler families 144, 147 inclusive land rights 15, 24, 27, 29 inclusiveness 39, 43, 58, 61 India Gate 233 Iskandar Malaysia 288, 291 Japan Bank for International Cooperation (JBIC) 284 Jakarta 13, 17, 148, 177, 183-184, 186, 188-192, 202-207 joint stock companies 44, 46, 50-51, 55 joint venture 251, 256-257 kampung 17, 183-184, 186, 188-197, 199-203 Kampung Kamal Muara (KKM) 186, 189-196, 203 Kampung Muara Baru (KMB) 186, 189-196, 203 Kankaria 221, 223, 225

Future Challenges of Cities in Asia

labor-intensive industries 53, 129 Lam Luk Ka 171-172 land ownership 44, 54, 178 subsidence 156, 161, 164, 175, 188, 190-191, 204 Land Transportation Department 167 land use planning 17, 131, 140, 143, 148, 150 rights 29, 44, 265 Law and Parimal Gardens 221 learning process 18, 267 Legislative Council (LegCo) 245, 254, 257, 259-263 Liulichang Street 65, 67, 71, 73-80, 84-85, 87-88, 90-91 life-world analysis 183, 187, 193, 200-203, 207 lilong 13, 119, 123, 125-126, 128, 268 livability 39, 41-43, 51, 53, 58, 60-61, 218, 222, 229, 232, 234, 237 Lodi Gardens 229, 233 long-term mechanism 65, 95 Mass Transit Railway Corporation (MTRC) 244-246, 248-270 McKinsey Global Institute 209, 211-213, 215, 227 migrant workers 40-43, 53-55, 58-60 migration 15, 39-40, 42-43, 133, 227-229, 286 Ministry of Urban Development (Town and Country Planning Organization), Indian 227-229 monoculture 23, 35 multifunctionality 210, 215-216 MyCorridor 283, 296 nail house 120-121, 125 National Agency for Disaster Management 188, 207 National Capital Region (NCR), New Delhi 18, 209, 211, 214, 227 neighborhood/s 15, 39-41, 43-44, 46, 50-52, 54-55, 58, 72, 89, 103-117, 119, 121, 123-124, 126-127, 145, 186-187, 189, 193, 195-197, 199-200, 202, 228, 268, 292 no-build zone 139, 142-145 Northern Corridor Economic Region (Koridor Utara) 288-289 old city 65-74, 80, 88-89, 92-93, 128 One Belt One Road (OBOR) 278, 284 Opium War 25, 107 physical space 65, 93-95 population distribution 148 preservation 16, 65, 89, 99-100, 103-107, 113-116, 118, 121 preventive resettlement 146-147 property rights 16, 72, 90, 125, 127

301

Index

Qianmen Street 28-29, 65, 67, 71, 73, 79-85, 87, 90, 96 Rail-plus-Property (R+P) 18, 243-246, 249-253, 256, 259-260, 262, 264-270 rain-induced flooding 150 Reform and Opening-Up era 99, 104-105 Reform and Opening-Up policy 68-69, 73, 75, 79, 95 regeneration 15-16, 39, 41-45, 51, 54-55, 58, 65-72, 80, 83-85, 126, 128, 231 renewal 16, 27, 41, 55, 68-69, 72-73, 79-80, 86, 90, 92, 94, 124, 213, 262, 268 resettlement 142, 145-147, 151-152, 239 resilient city/cities 17, 131, 141, 151-152, 185, 210 resource constraints 14 revival 65, 93, 95 river basin 141, 148-151, 173-174 Riverfront Park (Ahmedabed) 220-221, 224, 226 Rukun Warga 189 rural-urban migrants 50, 53-54 Sabah Development Corridor 288 Sabarmati Riverfront 211, 218-224, 226, 231, 235 Riverfront Development Corporation Ltd. (SRFDCL) 221-222 Sarawak Corridor for Renewable Energy (SCORE) 288-289 self-organization 58-59 Shenzhen 15-16, 39-46, 50-55, 58-59, 244, 264-265, 267 settlements 14-15, 18, 39-40, 43, 50-51, 58, 108, 124, 131-134, 136, 139-141, 143-145, 147-148, 184, 186, 188, 214, 231, 269, 292, 294 Silk Road 25, 278 social ecology 65, 93 social justice 16, 43, 59, 65, 67, 93-94, 121, 160 social relations 40, 42-46, 54, 58-59, 192, 195 Special Investment Region (SIR) 290, 295 stakeholders 17, 39, 42-43, 52, 54-55, 58-59, 113, 215, 235, 269, 284, 294 Stop Global Warming Association of Thailand 173 street trees 218, 221-223, 229-230, 235-236, 241 sustainable urban development 214, 236 Taiheiyo Belt 285, 287 Tokaido Corridor 285-286 Tranquil Light (Neighborhood) 110-113, 115-117

transformative adaptation 183, 185, 197-198, 200, 257 transit-oriented development (TOD) 52, 244 transportation 14, 17-18, 72, 79, 116, 134, 146, 155, 157, 163, 166-169, 171, 176, 180, 210, 212-214, 222, 243, 245-246, 249-250, 252-257, 261-261, 263-266, 268-270, 282, 285 Tropical Storm Sendong 131-132, 137, 140, 143, 149 urban form/s 39, 41, 43, 46, 53-54, 58-59, 218, 269, 292 urban governance 17, 55, 155-157, 161-162, 175, 179, 213, 245, 265, 269 urban planning 16-17, 39, 60, 68-69, 100, 132, 150, 215, 237, 245, 269, 284, 292, 294 urban poor 180, 183, 186, 201-203 urban population 13-14, 44, 65, 108, 132, 148, 156, 184, 212 urban regeneration 15-16, 39, 41-43, 51, 54-55, 58, 65-68, 70, 83-84, 88-95, 128 urban villages 39-46, 50-56, 58-60 urban vitality 39, 42-43, 47, 58, 60-61 urban vulnerability 183, 185-186 urbanization 14, 40, 43-44, 46, 58-59, 65-66, 95, 99, 103-105, 124, 127, 131, 140, 185, 203, 212, 243, 250, 269, 279, 292, 294 processes 40, 279, 292 Vastrapur (Lake/s) 221, 223 village collectives 43-46 vitality 50, 58, 65, 67, 72, 74, 79, 90, 92, 255 vulnerability assessment/s 144, 179, 183, 185, 187, 200, 202-203 Washi 131 water resources 17, 21, 146, 223, 286 World Bank 43, 133, 161, 178, 181, 244, 265-266, 268-269, 281 world factory 39-40, 52, 59 World Trade Organization (WTO) 280 Xintiandi 107, 113-116, 119 Yamuna (River/Riverfront) 211, 219, 228, 231-232, 234 Yangmeizhu Oblique Street 67, 74, 85-91, 95 Yingluck government 167, 172-173, 176-177 zoning 30-31, 131, 143-144, 148, 187

Publications / Asian Cities Norman Vasu, Yeap Su Yin and Chan Wen Ling (eds): Immigration in Singapore 2014, ISBN 978 90 8964 665 1 Gregory Bracken (ed.): Asian Cities. Colonial to Global 2015, ISBN 978 90 8964 931 7 Lena Scheen: Shanghai Literary Imaginings. A City in Transformation 2015, ISBN 978 90 8964 587 6 Anila Naeem: Urban Traditions and Historic Environments in Sindh. A Fading Legacy of Shikarpoor, Historic City 2017, ISBN 978 94 6298 159 1 Siddhartha Sen: Colonizing, Decolonizing, and Globalizing Kolkata. From a Colonial to a Post-Marxist City 2017, ISBN 978 94 6298 111 9 Adele Esposito: Urban Development in the Margins of a World Heritage Site. In the Shadows of Angkor 2018, ISBN 978 94 6298 368 7 Yves Cabannes, Mike Douglass and Rita Padawangi (eds): Cities in Asia by and for the People 2018, ISBN 978 94 6298 522 3 Minna Valjakka and Meiqin Wang (eds): Visual Arts, Representations and Interventions in Contemporary China. Urbanized Interface 2018, ISBN 978 94 6298 223 9 Gregory Bracken (ed.): Ancient and Modern Practices of Citizenship in Asia and the West. Care of the Self 2019, ISBN 978 94 6298 694 7 Henco Bekkering, Adèle Esposito and Charles Goldblum (eds): Ideas of the City in Asian Settings 2019, ISBN 978 94 6298 561 2