Historic preservation brought up-to-date

The challenge is to convince many interest groups that saving urban heritage is in their best interest

By Roger Hamilton

The decline of an historic neighborhood is a little like the progression of a stubborn illness. One problem leads to another, and pretty soon, whole systems break down and the neighborhood stands defenseless against the inevitable bulldozer.

The process starts when buildings become functionally obsolete. Spacious colonial houses designed for an era of live-in relatives and staffs of servants are too big for today's small nuclear families. Old hospital buildings do not have the space needed for modern medical equipment. Old libraries cannot accommodate ever-growing numbers of books. People do not ride trains as much any more, so graceful old railway stations fall into disuse. Communities can no longer support the dozens of convents and churches that crowd a typical historic district. Maintenance becomes prohibitive and buildings deteriorate.
The death knell comes when the land an old building occupies becomes more valuable than the structure itself. The old walls come down, to be replaced by apartment buildings and offices, and another piece of urban heritage is gone forever.

To a pragmatist, the cycle of urban death and renewal is simply the way a city evolves to meet the changing needs of its residents. But for a growing number of people in Latin America and the Caribbean, historic buildings and neighborhoods are more than mere real estate. In an increasingly homogenized world, these districts-which can be found in nearly every one of the region's large cities-represent an irreplaceable element of a nation's historical and cultural identity.

In fact, both the pragmatists and the romantics make valid points, says Eduardo Rojas, the IDB's senior urban planner. Although historic preservation and modernization were at one time seen as antagonistic, urban planners in many countries now believe that preserving urban heritage can actually enhance the economic and cultural life of a city, to the ultimate benefit of all its residents. Evidence of this new strategy can be seen in innovative historical preservation programs now being financed by the IDB in a number of Latin and Caribbean countries.

Long-term goal. The strategy Rojas sets forth can be best understood by comparing it with alternative approaches.

In one approach, a city's cultural elite uses its power and prestige to get the funding and legislation needed to protect historic buildings and monuments. But if these leaders lose their interest or their influence, the buildings will once again be in jeopardy. Moreover, by restricting how owners can use historic buildings, preservation laws often eliminate incentives to spend on maintenance and actually hasten deterioration.

In another approach to preservation, the government takes responsibility for urban conservation by enacting legislation, creating heritage conservation boards and earmarking municipal funds for this purpose. But sustainability remains a problem. Confronted with pressing social needs, most governments cannot justify spending tax money to preserve old buildings. And when a government does attempt to operate and maintain a vast array of buildings and public spaces with limited resources, it discourages potential private investments.

The third approach to urban heritage conservation reflects the changes that have taken place in Latin America during recent years, in particular the region's transition to democracy, decentralization, and market-oriented economic policies. The advocates of this approach argue that conservation efforts can be sustained over the long term only if they have the support and participation of a broad spectrum of citizens and interest groups: private businesses, real estate investors, philanthropic organizations and neighborhood citizen groups, as well as the government. The objective is to create an historic center that functions as a full-fledged part of the city, not merely as a museum or a tourist attraction. It must be a place where people live, work, run businesses and shop.

Rojas emphasizes that increasing the number of groups involved in heritage preservation does not reduce the importance of the role of the government. Only the government has the authority and the long-term perspective needed to create an environment in which "an adventurous" private sector will take the leading investment role, he says.

How does the government create a good investment climate? First, it must establish regulations that define the participation of various interest groups. Other laws would aim directly at conserving buildings and monuments. But regulations that encourage preservation indirectly also bring important long-term benefits. For example, the government can soften tenant protection rules as a way of strengthening the market for rental housing and spurring the rehabilitation of heritage buildings. Or governments can provide tax credits for investors willing to rehabilitate buildings. The public sector also can encourage private participation by investing in public spaces and infrastructure, such as sidewalks, sanitation, transportation and parking.

Finally, the government can provide the private sector with incentives. For example, municipal authorities can promise to purchase or lease space in renovated buildings. They can provide developers with services such as parking or access to public transportation. Or they can promise to cut through red tape for obtaining permits and registrations. Families could receive incentives to encourage them to move into renovated buildings, where maintenance costs are usually higher than in new buildings.

All these policies can help the public sector to build a partnership with the private sector. They also make it more likely that historic districts will be treated as an integral part of a city, albeit with special needs, thereby blending heritage conservation with the broader objective of urban rehabilitation.

This strategy looks even better in practice than it sounds in theory. According to Rojas, the historic preservation project in Quito, Ecuador (see "All dressed up and looking for investors" in this issue), has already proven that the concept of public-private collaboration for urban heritage conservation can be applied elsewhere, allowing for each city's legal, constitutional and institutional realities. For example, in Montevideo, where regulations do not allow for a Quito-style mixed public-private corporation, IDB-financed work to restore an historic railway station will begin only after private interests agree to develop the building and yards (see "New life for an old train station" in this issue).

According to Rojas, the IDB is breaking new ground in financing public-private partnerships for urban heritage preservation. "What the IDB is doing is very pioneering," he says. "Here, we don't deal in theories," he adds. "Our aim is to get things moving on the ground."

Date posted: June, 1999

—Eduardo Rojas
IDB Senior Urban Planner