Building a new Parliament won’t strengthen India’s democracy

Last week, Prime Minister Narendra Modi proposed that a new building be built to replace the old Parliament building. According to him, a brand new structure — or a substantially upgraded old one — should be ready by 2022, in time to celebrate 75 years of Indian independence, something that would proclaim the country’s eminent position as the world’s largest

democracy

. The PM’s statement follows in the wake of Lok Sabha Speaker Sumitra Mahajan’s assertion that the 90-year-old Lutyens and Baker designed structure can no longer support added demands for space, security and media. She even proposed possible sites for the new building within the Parliament complex.
The idea that the current

colonial building

has done its time seems misguided and entirely out of sync with the reality of architectural possibilities. The rush to make something afresh springs most likely from an archaic Indian self-absorption with being second rate, and trusting any modern-looking glass façade that may quell that cultural inadequacy.

If history is any guide, some of the world’s iconic public buildings make amply clear the longevity granted to them. The Capitol building in Washington DC was built in 1800, and though it has seen no outward additions, it has been modernised by succeeding governments. Numerous changes have been made to its interior layouts, mechanical innards, air-conditioning and acoustic systems; over two centuries, improvements have been continually made in communication equipment, security, lighting etc. Such technical inputs have barely affected the outer architectural shell, which has retained entirely the semblance of the original. The

White House

too remains entirely true to its 1792 conception. But while the first occupant John Adams used a waterless toilet and a horse-mounted messenger to send letters half a mile away, Trump tweets on the net, has an infinite data storage bank, and the world’s most advanced communications network. An impregnable basement office, was added after World War II, in case of a nuclear attack. Through constant upgrades, the historic building remains cutting edge in its operation.

The case of the German parliament is perhaps a better lesson for us. In 1990, after German reunification, the classical

Reichstag building

in Berlin underwent a major reconstruction, adding a central glass dome in what was an unusual merging of 18th-century elements with 20th-century steel and glass technology. The outcome was hailed as a daring form of composite refurbishment that allowed a delicate mix of wildly disparate aesthetics. The glass dome was built directly above the old debating chamber, environmentally protected by sophisticated heat shields; a system of walkways within the dome allowed visitors distant views of Berlin. Would such innovation ever be practised in a country incapable of assessing the value of its own heritage, and paranoid about VIP security? Could a similar glass dome be built over Connaught Place, or Rashtrapati Bhavan, if required?

One of the more critical problems of designing a new Parliament for a country that now behaves more like an autocracy lies in the deception that the design once built, will itself encourage healthy democratic debate. Should the proposed alteration itself be left to government choice, or be open to democratic debate and selection? Should the design of so major an edifice be thrown open to radical ideas, or be merely handed to the lowest tender, as is being currently planned?

It is hard to read the real motivation behind such colossal public expenditure — unless of course the call has come out of some deeper insidious cultural strain. Does the government’s reading of the proposed refurbishment take into account that the Parliament, the Central Vista and the two flanking Secretariat buildings are all of a ‘foreign colonial’ origin, and need to be replaced by a ‘Hindu’ architecture? Perhaps it is merely a concern to project a global view in the public face, in keeping with the push towards a technocratic future — bullet trains, 6-lane highways and signature bridges. And now a shining Parliament.

Unfortunately, more often than not, slick structures of excessive modernism are a convenient cover for internal incompetence. The belief that a building must look modern to be modern denies the fact that important historical structures can now be retrofitted with utmost sophistication. The Parliament house can be made into a complex machine, bomb proof, secure, digitally active with state-of-the-art gadgetry, communications, comfort etc., without disturbing its status as ‘heritage’ architecture. But it will take political will, public concern and a deeper understanding of what constitutes Indian heritage to escape the flippancy of the government’s ambition to make ‘the greatest monument to the world’s largest democracy’.

(The writer is a Delhi-based architect)