أرشيف الوسم: Kuwait_City

Municipal decisions shape a city’s soul. Smart cities are built on empathy; they preserve order through regulation and strong communication with communities, offering supportive alternatives and applying subtle, data-driven interventions. Therefore, what is happening in Jleeb al-Shuyoukh these days is of great importance and calls for attention.

Over the past two weeks, a group of government institutions has launched a campaign in Jleeb al-Shuyoukh, a densely populated area known for sheltering low-income workers and for its high number of construction violations and other encroachments. As reported by newspapers, the campaign targeted more than 1,000 buildings, resulting in the evacuation of large numbers of residents and difficult conditions for vulnerable segments of society.

Officials see the deteriorating condition of the area as the result of decades of neglect and unregulated growth, with landlords dividing single-family homes into high-density housing. This has led to negative effects on services and infrastructure and presents risks to security and safety. Thus, the time has come to find quick solutions to this corrupt phenomenon.

Although the official authorities’ diagnosis is correct, an intervention of this magnitude requires more practical planning that examines the problem in depth and from all sides. Many cities around the world have faced similar, perhaps even more frequent, problems and have succeeded in solving them by matching intervention to context.

In Kuwait, we have precise tools to address the subject with professionalism, sensitivity, and humanity. We should have looked at the big picture and considered how the urban area could accommodate low-wage housing in a humane and practical way. Prudent planning favors improvements over demolition and prioritizes preserving the structure and social networks, while taking into account for the requirements of security, safety, and engineering efficiency.

Despite all that we see, the Jleeb area has succeeded in attracting workers, housing them, and providing a central location in the heart of Kuwait, offering affordable housing for the simple worker and access to various areas in the north and south of Kuwait. It also provided residents with a relatively acceptable environment, serving as a social incubator for communities, with restaurants, playgrounds, mosques, markets, shops, and both official and informal services. Therefore, it has the elements that have enabled it to survive and operate for decades.

But when we do not find an alternative to human relocation, it would have been better to discover viable alternatives that take into account the requirements of the state and society and do not neglect the priorities and needs of the worker. Hence, we should seek to develop systems that integrate corporate responsibility for workers’ housing, along with work and residence permits. Develop policies that encourage investment, or spending when investment is not feasible, in affordable housing for workers. In addition, involve the community as a whole in making such decisions. Scientific tools, supported by reliable information, are also needed to monitor ongoing compliance with building regulations and security and safety requirements.

Finally, we call for wisdom and compassion, because urban planning is centered on human beings. The imposition of the law does not imply policies of abstract erasure, and illegal or dense housing does not justify sudden evictions, which expose individuals and sometimes families to harsh conditions. Often, this worker is only a victim of system breakdowns or the pressures of circumstances. The sight of workers scouring the roads and surrounding areas, carrying what they could or sleeping on roofs in the heat of summer, is an indication of a moral failure in a country that has always presented itself as a country of humanity and goodness!

Cities are built on compassion; smart municipalities study the steps, know how to implement soft interventions, provide alternatives, and listen to residents, while also developing and enforcing laws and regulations through transparent procedures and accountable measures. We must realize that abiding by the law is rooted in trust, while fear leads to exporting problems or creating new ones.

In terms of architectural taste, I may not like the architectural style of the Palace of Justice in Kuwait City. But it is undeniable that it has become an architectural landmark that carries weight in the collective memory and shapes the spatial identity of Kuwait City. Here I bring to mind the Italian architect Aldo Rossi (1931-1997) and his idea of an “urban artifact”.

 Rossi wrote: “Architecture in the city means two different things: first, the city as a massive man-made object, a complex work of engineering that grows with time; second, limited but essential aspects of the city, are the urban artifacts.”

Rossi introduces the concept of an “urban artifact”, which includes buildings and spaces that survive over time not for a functional advantage, but because they concentrate collective meaning and become indispensable monuments, such as mosques, markets, and public squares, elements of resistance, which survive demographic and economic change and even physical destruction because they are centers of collective identity.  It allows society to remember who it is and where it came from. Rossi’s concept of a “site” that focuses collective memory has a particular resonance in the Gulf; the historic souks in Kuwait, the old yards (Baraha) in Bahrain, and the towers of Qatari coastal villages are sites where the community’s identity is physically symbolized. Its destruction during   an era of oil-age urbanization, in Rossi’s terms, represented the destruction of collective memory and the dismantling of the infrastructure of identity.

The Palace of Justice in Kuwait is a delicate test case for us. Designed by Scottish architect Sir Basil Spence, it was opened in 1986 as part of the state’s policy in the 1960s and 1970s to establish a Kuwaiti-themed architectural modernity! Due to its size, location, and historical value, Kuwaitis interacted with it in different circumstances, adorned it with the national currency, and received decades of the state’s legal memory, becoming the center of a collective identity that went beyond its practical function.

However, the Ministry of Justice recently announced the decision to demolish it, a decision that goes beyond being an administrative decision, as it represents a deliberate dismantling of one of the few spatial anchors that link the modern judicial institution to its founding history. More seriously, the decision comes in the absence of a technical opinion that the building is liable to fall, and it also violates Article 12 of the Constitution, which obliges the state to preserve heritage, and Article 17, which protects public funds, as it is estimated that the demolition of a building with a current value of approximately fifty million Kuwaiti dinars constitutes a direct waste of public estate.

From the perspective of urban development, the demolition of the Palace of Justice enshrines a “culture of demolition”, which reduces the treatment of aging buildings to their replacement rather than periodic maintenance, even though the cost of maintenance is much lower than the cost of demolition and reconstruction, and despite the fact that the replacement empties the site of its historical layers.

On the other hand, if the Ministry of Justice believes that the building is no longer practical or useful for its current operations, then it can be put up for investment, and the private sector should study its rehabilitation for other uses, so that it can become a hotel, a market, a bank headquarters, or even a museum or a public library!

The demolition decision comes in the context of a series of demolitions that inevitably apply to other modernist buildings of the same era, from the Kuwait Airport designed by Kenzo Tango to the Central Bank building designed by Arne Jakobsen, all of which are urban artifacts that are subject to the same fate unless an explicit national policy is adopted to protect modern architectural heritage.

On the twenty-first day of the US-Israeli war on Iran, with Iran now targeting GCC countries in retaliation, we are drawn into the center of a regional conflict. Yet, life here continues with unsettling normalcy. Sirens sound, news circulates, but the streets stay busy, and people maintain their routines. We are reminded how fragile welfare is.

In the last 60 years, the GCC populations have expanded fortyfold, and countries have built modern cities with extraordinary ambition. These cities are equipped with state-of-the-art infrastructure, abundant energy, and cityscapes that rival any on earth. Still, behind this prosperity lies profound vulnerability. Desalination plants remain the sole source of water for millions, even as the threat of sabotage hangs over critical infrastructure. The lesson is becoming impossible to ignore: a city should only grow as large as its water reserves can sustain !

International opposition to the war is rising, and deep Pan-Arab sentiment now aligns with anyone opposing the Israeli regime. This created tension with some expats and could pose a challenge to local governments.  Other highly qualified Expats begin to quietly leave. Cities should reassess their technical and infrastructural dependencies; The war exposes that immigrants are gifts, but immigration as a demographic strategy creates vulnerability !

Interestingly, the long-criticized low-density urbanization in GCC cities now appears to be an unexpected advantage. Sprawling cities with sparse populations mean that missiles and drones face different calculations of destruction than they would in more densely packed cities. High density proves beneficial, but not during wartime !

Meanwhile, while driving on the First Ring Road recently, I came across a painful scene: the damaged headquarters of the Public Institution for Social Security, which had been hit by a missile fragment. The view of the burned tower offers a sharp contrast to the ambitions of skyscrapers in a region known for its world-renowned landmarks and high-rise competition. In wartime, the tower is no longer a landmark, but a target. Working or living in them is considered more dangerous, and they pose a challenge for emergency teams. In wartime, towers turned out to be a useless burden !

Technology has also revealed its limits. Adapted apps, payment platforms, and digital conveniences have always formed a layer built upon stability, not the foundation itself. When conflict began, this distinction stood out unmistakably.

The war underscores the importance of the human and the local. In times of crisis, it is clear that people matter more than platforms. Immediately, we recognized the value of neighbors—those who share sirens and a stairwell. The neighborhood, humanity’s oldest settlement unit, stands as something technology cannot replicate. War reminds us to know and value our neighbors !

Additionally, the war has shifted our understanding of home, making accessibility and centrality essential for survival. A well-located home now holds value for its protection, access, and resilience, not for its aspirations.

Lastly, war strips cities down to their essentials and forces us to confront what we have long taken for granted. Amenities like Water, shelter, community, and proximity are not mere conveniences but the architecture of survival. This moment of reckoning is not unique in history, but it arrives with particular importance for cities built on the assumption of permanent stability. Maybe the deepest lesson of this war is not strategic or political, but fundamentally human: that the measure of a city was never its skyline, but its resilience, and that resilience was never found in its buildings and infrastructures, but in the people who live between them.

This series presents a vision for transforming Kuwait and Gulf cities into productive centers. In this article, I highlight the importance of defining the creative class’s role in this transformation. Achieving this goal requires shifting from the current practice of randomly attracting expatriate workers to intentionally recruiting creative talent. Reliance on expatriate labor has created structural challenges: low-skilled workers dominate the workforce, while nationals and skilled expatriates compete for mid-level positions. Additionally, existing laws hinder efforts to attract and retain talented individuals.

After decades of state-building, strong institutions, and a clear national identity, Kuwait and the Gulf are now positioned to adopt more open policies. These changes can liberalize the economy and enable individuals and expatriate groups to contribute more significantly to its development.

I would like to highlight the work of American urban thinker and economist Richard Florida, known for his theory of the “creative class” and its influence on city economies, as outlined in The Rise of the Creative Class (2002). Florida defines the creative class as individuals whose work is rooted in ideas and knowledge, viewing creativity as the primary driver of today’s economy. He argues that cities now compete to attract talented people, and companies follow these individuals to their preferred locations.

Florida suggests that cities can attract talent by focusing on three key areas (3T’s): talent, technology, and tolerance. Talent refers to an educated and skilled workforce. Technology involves strong innovation and technical capabilities. Tolerance means openness to diversity, including people from various backgrounds and cultures. According to Florida, cities excelling in all three areas experience the fastest growth. He also emphasizes the importance of high-quality living environments and vibrant urban lifestyles. His ideas have shifted urban planning from prioritizing industry to investing in people and culture.

Attracting and retaining the creative class offers multiple strategic advantages:

1. Growth and innovation: The creative class drives the creation of startups that diversify the economy beyond traditional sectors.
2. Global attractiveness: The creative class enhances the city’s reputation as a cultural and technological hub, attracting greater investment.
3. Urban renewal: The creative class revitalizes neglected areas, transforming them into active economic zones.
4. Knowledge exchange: Expanding the creative class fosters innovation, knowledge sharing, healthy competition, and stronger links between technology and culture.

Currently, Kuwait is adopting policies that diverge from the global trend of openness, making the environment less welcoming and moving away from its tradition of tolerance and diversity. Instead of promoting policies that attract and retain creative individuals, there is a tendency to undervalue diversity and overestimate local skills. We hope this approach will be reconsidered, with respect for the rule of law and the rights Kuwait has long upheld.

As global competition for talent intensifies, it is essential to develop laws and urban environments that enable creative expatriates to become active partners in progress. This approach will support lasting prosperity and create strong opportunities for future generations.