The following text was published in the "900 km Nile City" book (Rhimal Design, Egypt, 2013) as a part of the commentary on the research and design proposal for Egypt's Nile Valley. The project is by Atelier Kempe Thill, baukuh, and Grau, and the book is edited by Moataz Farid, and Pier Paolo Tamburelli.
Portraits of
Disengagement
01.
We entered the brightly neon-lit office with its pale stone
flooring and its dark brown wooden walls, and were signaled to proceed inside,
now directly facing a large old wooden desk. The governor of Sohag sat
comfortably behind it with a remote in his hand carefully following the morning
news. The interview had been planned to discuss development priorities and
models for Sohag with the 900 km city project team. The governor, a previous senior
military official, had been appointed after the revolution. He spoke of the
successes achieved during his term (which had only lasted months) and of his
future plans for the governorate to become ‘prosperous’. He also spoke of the
extensive lack of funding to solve many of the problems facing him, and his
will to partner with foreign governments and agencies for financial and
technical aid. When asked about envisioning the Nile valley as one large
connected city, he was surprised. It was quite clear that he had never seen it
that way. Most importantly, he spoke with unparalleled pride of his 1 million
resident city project, planned to absorb revolutionary demands, although he did
not know exactly where it was located in the desert. It was evident that there
was an absence of a clear long-term vision for the governorate or the valley,
besides of course an apparent lack of experience and imagination. A typical
official with a typical extreme dissociation from reality, enforced by an
alarming false sense of achievement, and an overwhelming excitement for the
failed new desert expansion model, promoting escapism under the “new fresh
start” logic.
02.
Our taxi driver had been driving for about 30 minutes on the
highway before we reached our destination. A large rusting archway sign saying
“Welcome to New Sohag” greeted us. Beyond the extended desert sand ahead of us,
we could see silhouettes of some buildings. As we came closer, it became obvious
that it was fairly empty. The only signs of life, apart from the barking dogs,
were the occasional hanging laundry in some of the apartment balconies. We
decided to stop the taxi and take some photos and were instantly struck by the
intensity of the sunrays and the heat radiating from the asphalt. This close,
it was now clear how much the city was vacant. Governmental housing looked like
it was perfect. Everything was in place… buildings were nicely painted and
ready… roads were paved… light posts were erected… even trees had been planted
but now withering and dying. Yet the city was abandoned, or actually never
occupied. As we continued our taxi tour in the city, I could imagine why nobody
lived here. There were no real services… no operating schools, no corner
supermarkets, and no fast and cheap transportation alternatives. But most
importantly, making the trip from the valley to the desert showed a stark
contrast. Everything seemed so ‘different’. The landscape… the density… the
infrastructure… the family ties… everything was indeed in contrast. It was
clear that nobody lived here because it was alien… because it did not represent
the valley… and perhaps also because it was imposed.
03.
A member of Monsha’a local council had taken us on a tour
around the village. “It will be much safer for you if I join you. People are
not very friendly with foreigners these days”. As we toured the village, we
talked about Monsha’a, its people, its problems, its poverty and its future. He
was a simple man dressed in a traditional ‘galabeya’, a teacher in the local
school. He was involved with the local council representation aside from his
full time job, hoping to do something for his community. He complained about
Mubarak’s regime monopolizing Monsha’a council with its men. Between the
unfinished houses of Monsha’s, with their concrete structures and red brick,
rose a huge brightly painted white monolith. We stopped in front of the closed
metal gates and asked about this huge decaying building. “This is the culture
palace. It has been closed since it was built. This is how the government and
the ministry of culture dealt with us. If you were a large village (markaz) you
must have one of these. It is a useless odd building that has nothing to do
with us. We do not use these cozy red seats… We are used to the wooden stiff
ones.” He continued “Mubarak had been wasting our resources only to portray
this false image of development. We do not want that. We want real development…
clean water, sufficient housing solutions, and better land to cultivate. We
want a decent living. That is why we had the revolution… tell them… that is why
we had the revolution.”
The 900 km city is perhaps just another project by a
group of European researchers and designers. It might be misunderstood if taken
too seriously or evaluated too harshly. Yet it holds the premise of being
unexpected. It suggests a fresh territorial setting through which one can look
at the Nile valley. It admits that it is not a solution but rather a challenge…
a possibility. It admits to being subjective. It does not jump to conclusions
nor does it make any assumptions. It admits the duality and existing distance
between dysfunctional strategic planning and individual small-scale ingenuity. It
acknowledges the gap between the bureaucracy of typical power structures and
the fast appropriation of real life, yet it does not attempt to fill it. It
admits the failures of governments and officials to deal with changing everyday
realities of the valley with imagination. The 900km city does not make any
claims nor does it remain passive. It does not innovate beyond what exists… and
is not merely a hasty reaction. It is too general and abstract yet very
specific. The 900 km city is indeed more than just another project… it is a
call to abandon preconceptions and adopt new positions towards the Nile valley
and towards the realities of Egypt… but only for those who dare to contest,
defy, and imagine.
(published in "900 km Nile City", Rhimal, Egypt, 2013)
