CAIRO RESILIENCE: CITY AS PERSONAL PRACTICE

CAIRO: BASIC CITY DATA Home to approximately 45 % of the urban population of Egypt, Cairo ranks the 12th largest city in the world according to UN sources. he city has been the capital of Egypt since its foundation by Jawhar al-Siqilli in 969 A.D. he majority of its population is Muslim with a 10 % Christian minority. Metropolitan Cairo, known as the Greater Cairo Region (GCR), has been lately re-deined to incorporate 5 governorates: Cairo, Giza, Qalyubiyah, and the newly formed jurisdictions of Helwan and the 6th of October governorates. Based on the most recent census data, the total population of those ive governorates adds up to 18,448,076 ➷ 1. Another 2008 estimate, indicates a population of 16,750,000 inhabitants and an area of 1,269 km2. ➷ 2 he exact boundaries of the GCR remain negotiable, leaving the population and area estimates de- batable. However, according to the government’s vision in the 2050 plan for the GCR, the boundaries of the region were proposed to incorporate vast extensions into both the western and eastern deserts, covering an area of 4,367 km2 with a population of 16,101 inhabitants ➷ 3. ➷ 1— ➳ www.mongabay.com/cities_pop_01.htm 2—“Population and Housing Census, 2006” CAPMAS—Central Agency for Public Mobilization And Statistics. 3—“he Strategic Urban Development Master Plan Study for Sustainable Development of the Greater Cairo Region in the Arab Republic of Egypt”, General Organization for Physical Planning & Japan International Cooperation Agency, 2008. ImprInt ——————————————————— Edited by Dina K. Shehayeb and Shahira Issa text contributions by Khaled Abdelhalim “Hope for the Marginalized Majority”, Iman Issa “Paranoid City”, Haytham El-Wardani “he hird language” Urban maps: Ahmed Zaazaa and GTZ—the German Technical Cooperation Agency, Egypt: “Informal Areas” Map”, Ahmed Zaazaa and GTZ —the German Technical Cooperation Agency, Egypt: “Chronological Development of Informal Areas” Map, CONTRAST Designs (Mazin Abdulkarim) “Population and Investment Flows” Map, Dina K. Shehayeb, Fawzy el-Gazaerly, and Shahira Issa: “Planning Cairo …? A Chronology” Case Studies: CONTRAST Designs (Mazin Abdulkarim, Kareem Nabil and Tamer Nader) “An Architecture of Refuge: he Wall and Public Space in New Cairo”, Marwan Fayed and Shahira Issa: “Legalizing an Urban Tumour, Case #11: Street Language”, Dina K. Shehayeb: “Self-Governance in Informal Areas: Boulaq el-Dakrour”, Dina K. Shehayeb: “Eating Away at Planned Barriers: Cairo’s Ring Road”, Dina K. Shehayeb and Ahmed Zaazaa: “A Forum of Encounter: Game’at al-Duwwal al-‘Arabiya Boulevard in Mohandesseen” photography: Mohamed ‘Azzazy, Mazin Abdul Karim, Marwan Fayed, Fawzy El-Gazaerly, GTZ, Iman Issa, Maha El-Serafy, Dina K. Shehayeb, Ahmed Zaazaa. Copyediting by Shahira Issa translation by Hassan Khan Graphic design: Studio Matthias Görlich (Matthias Görlich & Charalampos Lazos) printing: Berliner Zeitungsdruck, Germany made possible by Prince Claus Fund for Culture and Development International Architecture Biennale Rotterdam, IABR 2009 Acknowledgements: We extend our gratitude to all the contributors for their voluntary time and valuable input in this project. In particular, we would like to thank the staf of GTZ—PDP Unit in Egypt who generously supplied us with data sources for the urban maps, former Greater Cairo Planning Director at the GOPP, and architects Hoda Edward and Mohamed Azzazy for providing background information on some of the case studies; and inally we would like to thank the young architect researchers at Shehayeb CONSULT for assisting in the research, photography and compilation of some of the material. A publication by diwan* made possible by Prince Claus Fund for Culture and Development, and the International Architecture Biennale Rotterdam, IABR 2009 / sub-exhibition “refuge”. *Diwan is a collaborative research platform initiated and curated by Philipp Misselwitz and Can Altay. It brings together leading academics, practitioners and experts from the ield of architecture and urban studies in Turkey and the Middles East. Diwan aims to provoke a critical discourse on the current trends that are radically transforming cities in the region, focusing on voluntary and involuntary forms of urban exclusion and urban practices that confront, subvert and transgress a reality of growing spatial and social polarization. hrough conducting new ield work, collecting thoughts, relections, ideas and utopias, Diwan also hopes to act as a trigger and a nucleus for a multitude of regional projects and collaborations—and ultimately provide a unique opportunity to generate links, networks, and collaborations in a region that is geographically united with shared histories and numerous cultural traditions; a region dealing with very similar challenges, yet remains divided and fragmented. Diwan publications include: Istanbul—Living in Voluntary and Involuntary Exclusion (edited by Eda Ünlü-Yücesoy and Tansel Korkmaz with Yaşar Adanalı, Can Altay and Philipp Misselwitz) Beirut—Mapping Security (edited by Mona Fawaz, Mona Harb, Ahmad Gharbieh) Amman—Neoliberal Urban Management (edited by Rami Farouk Daher) Cairo—Resilience: he City as Personal Practice (Dina Shehayeb and Shahira Issa) Dubai—Mobility (Yasser Elsheshtawy, Markus Miessen, Can Altay and Philipp Misselwitz) tABlE of ContEntS ——————————————————————— 01—eDITORIAl: The CITY AS peRSOnAl pRACTICe case study index 02—hOpe fOR The MARgInAlIzeD MAjORITY participatory governance in greater Cairo’s Informal Areas 03—Self-gOveRnAnCe In InfORMAl AReAS Boulaq el-Dakrour map A—ThRee eSTIMATeS Of InfORMAl AReAS In The gReATeR CAIRO RegIOn map B—ChROnOlOgICAl DevelOpMenT Of InfORMAl AReAS In 1950, 1977, 1991 AnD 2000 04—legAlIzIng An uRBAn TuMOuR Case #11: Street language in Cairo’s vehicular Transportation Systems focus: Medium Sized Buses 05—A fORuM Of enCOunTeR game’at al-Duwwal al-‘Arabia Boulevard in Mohandesseen 06—plAnnIng CAIRO...? A Chronology 07—pARAnOID CITY 08—The ThIRD lAnguAge 09—An ARChITeCTuRe Of Refuge, The wAll AnD puBlIC SpACe In new CAIRO COnTRAST Designs in Conversation MAp C—pOpulATIOn AnD InveSTMenT flOwS 10—fORMAl / InfORMAl TenSIOn 11—eATIng AwAY AT plAnneD BARRIeRS Cairo’s Ring Road 01—eDITORIAl: The CITY AS peRSOnAl pRACTICe he motif of refuge sites increasingly punctuates representations of recent urban developments and planning projects in Cairo. Ranging from suburban gated compounds and private parks to shopping malls and air-conditioned towers, images of the new cities under construction consistently appear as escape havens and gateways to an improved lifestyle. hose sites of refuge re-imagine Cairo as a threatening and overly-saturated city; a plan delected by misuse, leaving behind a city spun-out-of-control. In the recently announced ‘Greater Cairo 2050 Plan’, the minister of Housing and Urban Development prefaces the plan’s reforms with an emphasis on the urgent crisis of Cairo’s deteriorating urban environment. According to him, rent control and agricultural land protection laws are regressive and prevent the city from realizing its potential as a regional inancial and industrial centre. Along with the “cancerous growth of unplanned areas”, the minister cites self-initiated practices, such as the privately managed microbuses serving low- to mid-income social groups, as outdated and hazardous behavior that contributes to the citizens’ insecurity and the city’s chaotic character. ➷ 1 Promising refuge, the 2050 plan thus supplants the capital’s to-be-former heritage, historic sites and famous cemeteries with large stretches of green belts. It envisions Cairo as a green city with new laws, well-governed practices and modernized subjects. he Greater Cairo 2050 Plan exempliies the state’s formal eforts to give order to the city; efforts which reproduce modernist utopias of segregatory spatial planning norms. In pursuit of development, those paradigms fragment the city, compartmentalizing social activities in demarcated urban zones, and dividing between social groups. Simultaneously, perforating such enclaves are private refuge operations that provide lacking infrastructural services and afordable housing for the mass population of the city. In most cases, those pragmatic operations counter modernist planning’s segregatory ideals, leading to a seemingly undesigned, chaotic, and sometimes undesired, yet actual coexistence. Inventing a new function to each form, those practices continuously cause segregatory planning to collapse into itself, and to be interwoven into a complex and dynamic urban fabric. Rather than incorporate personalized interpretations of the proposed urban models, recent planning trends in Cairo aim to purge the urban landscape of deviation, dictating a limited range of applications. Here layers of improvised uses along with self-built urban structures, accumulate to form supposed lawless planes—so often romanticized as the harsh realities of Cairo’s daily-life. his publication traces the tension between segregated enclaves and mixed urban environments, vis-à-vis the relationship between centralized / state planning and self-design. Confronted with the challenge of a governorate in which 65,6 % of its population resides in self-built neighborhoods, we explore difering strategies toward urban planning and architecture. Revisiting the city as a ceaseless personal practice, we consider what roles architecture and urban planning can have, and examine the possibility of realizing a design open to further appropriations. In ‘A Forum of Encounter, Game’at al-Duwwal al‘Arabiya Boulevard’, Dina Shehayeb and Ahmed Zaazaa, closely observe the multiplicity of uses and behavioural patterns that occupy this avenue in the Mohandesseen district. Transformed from a neighbourhood’s vehicular artery to a dynamic urban centre, Game’at al-Duwwal has become a distinctly heterogeneous urban platform. he authors revisit the history of the Mohandesseen district, in order to trace the disparate urban patterns that have informed the avenue’s character. Marked by a series of post-facto planning strategies, Mohandesseen’s transformations relect a recurrent planning policy in Cairo’s history. In ‘An Architecture of Refuge, he Wall and Public Space in New Cairo’, CONTRAST Designs discuss the impact of such strategies on New Cairo, which has shited from a recent suburban expansion into a self suicient and exclusive city for Cairo’s elite. hey consider the ethical implications of architectural practice, while exploring difering urban paradigms against which the shortcomings and potential of the New Cairo model could be evaluated or critiqued. In ‘Self Governance in Informal Areas: Boulaq alDakrour’, Dina Shehayeb zooms in on a parallel private initiative in Boulaq al-Dakrour; an informal area that emerged in direct response to unfulilled public needs. Shehayeb highlights a few of the area’s spatial characteristics that make for a safe, self-suicient, well-integrated and mixed urban environment. She analyzes the neighbourhood’s substandard living conditions, airming the necessity of state support in the provision and maintenance of sustainable infrastructure and construction regulations. Khaled Abdelhalim elaborates further on the relationship between the residents of informal areas and the government. ‘Hope for the Marginalized Majority: Participatory Governance in Greater Cairo’s Informal Areas’ introduces the Participatory Development Program, a GTZ initiative that aims at re-integrating citizens in the government’s decision-making process. Confronted with contradictory and shiting state policies, the residents of informal areas are in a state of constant threat. Although constituting the majority of the population, they occupy the marginalized position of second-class citizens. In ‘Paranoid City’, Iman Issa addresses the insecure contract between the central / juridical system and the individual practices around it. She explores how the state of constant doubt one inhabits in such an unstable environment translates into a potential site for knowledge. Issa approaches doubt as a productive space where the most basic structural parametres of form that otherwise remain uncontested could be questioned. Haytham al-Wardani revisits the position of the marginalized in the hierarchy of the city. He analyzes the inescapable condition of distance that deines the migrant’s relationship to both the By ShAhIrA ISSA & DInA K. ShEhAyEB homeland and the new residence. In ‘he hird Language’, an expatriate takes us through the sonic architecture of the city as he relects on its diferent acoustic layers: the sound of the normative, the unfamiliar, the imperceptible and the continuous promise of the unknown. He locates indeinite forms in the city’s sound scape, such as noise, as crucial elements that perforate a city’s rigid and homogenous structures. In search of a blueprint that generates indeinite forms, Marwan Fayed proposes a design strategy that reproduces the mechanisms of self-practiced architecture. ‘Legalizing an Urban Tumour’ tackles the recurrent challenge facing centralized planning and design: How to propose site-specific models without over-determining behavioural patterns? he project builds on the openness of standardized design whose abstraction leaves room for individual interventions. It experiments with techniques that particularize urban structures while maintaining the possibility of autonomous appropriations. Dina Shehayeb demonstrates a process whereby such spontaneous appropriations have nulliied segregatorial modernist planning norms. Initially planned as a vehicular highway to contain city growth in Cairo, the Ring Road was re-integrated into the city fabric through a multiplicity of private practices. ‘Eating Away at Planned Barriers: Cairo’s Ring Road’ traces initiatives ranging from self-managed services to real-estate development and informal housing that have gradually transformed the road into a city artery rather than its boundary. ❑ Shahira Issa is an artist based in Cairo. In 2008, she co-founded Pericentre Projects, which developed the ongoing research-based initiative Kharita. In 2009, she completed a residency at Makan in Amman, during which she initiated a long-term project, exploring the tension between artistic impulses and notions of culture that inform their circulation. Issa was recently nominated for the ith Bonaldi Art prize. Dina Shehayeb is a professor at the Housing and Building National Research Centre (HBRC) in Cairo, Egypt, as well as the principal of her private consultancy irm Shehayeb CONSULT. Graduated as an architect in 1984, she earned her Ph.D. Degree from the USA in 1995 focusing on human aspects in design and planning. Specialized in transdisciplinary research, she works on bridging the gap between the physical built environment and its socio-psychological and cultural dimensions applied to community-based development, participatory design, and design and planning guidelines. Consultant to several national and international organizations including the UN-Habitat, she is also editorial board member of several scientiic journals. ➷ 1— ➳ http://www.amcham.org.eg/operation/ events/events07/Ahmed_El_Maghraby/Ahmed_ El_Maghraby.asp BO — 03 ul AQ R Ou KR -D A Al w — ne 09 n ee eS nD hA MO — 05 05 Al —g AR AM AB e' IA AT BO Al ul -Du ev w AR wA D I O IR CA ng 11 — RI RO AD case study index 02—hOpe fOR The ‘MARgInAlIzeD MAjORITY’ By Dr. KhAlED ABDElhAlIm participatory governance in greater Cairo’s Informal Areas public Day organized by the pDp in Boulaq el-Dakrour (photograph by gTz—egypt) participatory Development programme in Urban Areas (pDp), GtZ-Egypt (German technical Cooperation Agency) Informal areas in Greater Cairo are not limited to the slum pockets, which comprise 5 % of the urban fabric. Ater 50 years of unplanned growth, they have come to constitute 60 % of the metropolis. In the absence of planning and enforcement mechanisms, popular neighbourhoods grew and consolidated over time, ofering refuge to an array of low to mid-income groups while accommodating dynamic informal businesses and productive activities. Although the residents of those areas generally enjoy access to afordable housing options of reasonable quality, they sufer varying degrees of infrastructural shortage and unavailable public services. hroughout, processes of growth and consolidation of informal areas in Greater Cairo have been informed by contradictory government policies. Oten comprising entire districts, informal areas are administratively acknowledged as part of the city. Since 1992, when a presidential decree stated the right of citizens to basic infrastructure within the city, the government has been extending its services to informal areas. his rights-based position has been translated on the national level into the recently issued Uniied Building and Planning Law (Law 119, 2008). his law deines informal areas as unplanned areas in need of development, a requirement that must be acknowledged within the city’s planning strategies. At the same time, the General Organization of Physical Planning (GOPP) has proposed a containment policy to stop the growth of informal areas, which at best, serves to shit informal growth of the city to its outer ring. On the one hand, the government’s planning strategies in response to informal growth, along with its obligation to extend services to existing informal areas, have encouraged and accelerated the construction of informal housing. While on the other, most technocrats operating at the national and local levels of governance believe that informal areas should ideally be demolished or reconstructed. his is relect- ed in the Cairo 2050 Plan, a long-term vision, which proposes large-scale land-use reforms in the Greater Cairo Region. In the proposed Cairo 2050 map, most of the current informal areas are either wiped out or radically transformed (GOPP, 2009). On the diferent levels of local government— district, city and governorate—the contradictions are even more intensiied. Provision of infrastructure and public services goes hand in hand with the local government’s role in controlling urban development. his includes preventing construction without permits and the prohibition of unlicensed non-residential uses. he complicated procedures required to obtain such permits and licenses, the pressures from elected representatives to authorize those permits, or to at least ignore illegal transactions—particularly during the elections period, alongside internal corruption and insuicient resources for law enforcement available to underpaid district administration staf, are all factors that maintain the status quo of those informal areas. hey perpetuate a quasi-state of informality that gives the local government leeway to exercise control and prosecution whenever needed: “By leaving the people to build or organize their markets informally, the government is able to accuse them of violating laws and regulations at any time. It is an indirect way of control, as well as a way to reduce people’s demands and expectations of quality services, because they are informal” (Abdelhalim & Shehayeb, 2009). his mode of local governance leads to a deep sense of marginalization; it leaves the residents of informal areas in the positon of second-class citizens: street vendors sufer a daily cat-and-mouse chase by district administration, microbus drivers by traic authorities, workshop owners by the shop-licensing department, house builders by the building control department and so forth. As a result, a large segment of this community often resorts to bribing oicials, while others play on the inluence of elected politicians. Recourse to local politicians however does not work out for free, but usually in return for either political support or money. he sum of such experience amounts to a latent sense of threat harboured by the workers and residents of informal areas. In addition, channels of communication such as meeting the head of a given department or submitting a complaint to the citizens’ services sector are usually neither accessible nor efective. Consequently, most inhabitants of informal areas hope that “the government leaves them alone”. And indeed, they manage most of their daily needs independently; yet their standard of living is compromised by lacking amenities, which they cannot provide on their own: interrupted water supply, hour-long queues for bread, garbage accumulation, frequent sewage overlow and lack of policing are just a few examples. In such an environment, survival strategies do not supplant feelings of neglect and injustice, which remain evident in the voices of the inhabitants of informal areas (GTZ, 2009). In this context, marginalization does not refer to a minority, but to at least 60 % of Greater Cairo’s population. Residents of informal areas, the bulk of the population is robbed of its right to partake in negotiations that directly afect their locality. his case of a marginalized majority vis-à-vis local governance relects the larger-scale marginalization of practically all Egyptian citizens who are excluded from decision-making processes while lacking access to transparent information. In an efort to reverse this negative image, the Participatory Development Program in Urban Areas (PDP) is an endeavour to improve mechanisms of public administration and civil society organizations that are servicing the poor urban population. In practice, the eforts of the PDP in its pilot areas proved to be no more than sensitizing the local government to the methods of including (marginalized) citizens in the decision-making process. Using participatory needs assessment and local area action planning, the PDP has demonstrated that it is possible to reconnect the local administration with the residents of informal areas. For example in the district of Boulaq al-Dakrour (one of PDP’s pilot areas in Giza), for the irst time, the district chief attended a public meeting in the neighbourhood; street vendors entered the district chief ’s oice without apprehension, but to discuss the design of a new market; and light posts were installed along the streets according to a neighbourhood survey conducted by its natural leaders. his gives hope for change. But this change remains small and geographically limited without the institutionalization and replication of participatory urban development methods; methods that basically introduce the pillars of good governance into urban management practices. For this purpose, the PDP has extended its technical support to the governorates within the Greater Cairo Region. It focuses on institutionalizing participation through capacity development and training of the local administration staf in participatory development concepts and methods. At the same time, the PDP advocates the replication of such practices on a national level, such that they become an integral part of local governance and urban management mechanisms. Today this efort inds support from national entities involved in reforming laws and devising policies. his brings the hope for participatory governance in the Greater Cairo Region closer to realization. It remains up to the marginalized majority to call for their right to good governance. ❑ Dr. Khaled m. Abdelhalim is an architect and a lecturer in the Department of Architecture at Helwan University. He is the team leader of the urban development unit and advisor on informal areas in the Giza governorate at the GTZ. Dr. Abdelhalim is also the founding member of the Egyptian Earth Construction Association. references: ➻ General Organization of Physical Planning—GOPP (2009) “A New Vision for the Cairo of the Future: Indications of the Strategic Plan for Cairo Governorate”, a Presentation held at the Cairo Governorate in January 2009. ➻ German Technical Cooperation—GTZ (2009), Cairo’s Informal Areas between Urban Challenges and Hidden Potentials: Facts, Voices, Visions. GTZ-Egypt Publication. ➻ Abdelhalim, K. & Shehayeb, D. (2009) “Issues of Participation in Egypt”, A Paper accepted for publishing at the Journal of Architectural and Planning Research. 03—Self-gOveRnAnCe In InfORMAl AReAS By DInA K. ShEhAyEB Boulaq el-Dakrour well-kept residential street (photograph by Dina K. Shehayeb) whO pARTICIpATeS In STReeT CleAnIng? no One (3%) District (16%) Residents (45%) Shop Owners (36%) OTheR fORMS Of pARTICIpATIOn Spray the street with water (42%) plant a tree (5%) Afford night lamp (25%) water a tree (11%) pave the pavement before (17%) A large portion of the urban population in Egypt lives in informal areas; authorities declare a igure of about 17,000,000 Egyptians. Why do people choose to live in poorly serviced informal areas rather than inhabit the planned and “modern” new cities? his is a question that has been confusing planners and politicians in Egypt since the 1980’s, when they irst started noticing the phenomenon. he persistent misconception of informal areas being ‘chaotic’, ‘its residents uncivilized’ and ultimately a ‘dangerous threat’ and ‘an undesirable’ entity is shared by many unfamiliar with informal areas; a misconception that relects ideas about the government-as-controller rather than facilitator. When state resources are too limited or poorly managed; when understanding of people’s priorities and urban development processes on which laws, policies and regulations are based is inadequate; and when government capacity to regulate is undermined by widespread non-compliance and disrespect for government institutions, informal areas develop and give rise to popular urban districts that answer people’s needs to the utmost. Informal areas represent the consolidation of ongoing private investment of millions of fellow Egyptians, striving to provide a liveable, appropriate and afordable living environment for themselves and their children—within the constraints of the available choices. In 1997, investment in informal housing was valued at US-$ 73 billion. An informal area west of Greater Cairo, Boulaq el-Dakrour is 9 square kilometers, and said to house around 1.2 million inhabitants. Who lives there? Studies reveal that the proile of its inhabitants includes a wide spectrum of socio-economic groups; from street vendors to medical doctors and lawyers; mainly, residents with low car ownership (only 10 % of residents own a private car) who constitute the majority of pedestrians and users of mass transport. Several conditions coincided to create the demand for settlement in the location of Boulaq elDakrour. A main driver behind its growth was the development of a planned extension to Greater Cairo in the 1950’s on what used to be agricultural land. It was called Madinat Al-Awqaf and consisted of land subdivisions for sale to members of professional syndicates (mainly middle-class professionals). his development created jobs for lower income groups and gradually transformed the neighbouring villages from agricultural to industrial and service-based economies. An inlux of migrants from the neglected rural settlements in the south of Egypt (known as Upper Egypt) to the village of Boulaq el-Dakrour started in the 1950’s. At the same time, rent control laws were passed in urban areas, granting tenants security of tenure. As a result, property owners stopped investing money in maintenance, which accelerated the deterioration of existing housing stock in the cities, including Greater Cairo. Consequently, newly formed households —a natural result of the population increase in the city—could not ind housing units in their neighbourhoods. Boulaq el-Dakrour thence became the spillover of the modest urban population from Giza. Boulaq el-Dakrour includes diferent types of informal housing. he most widespread is made up of medium height, high-density brick and reinforced concrete buildings. In some areas, average building height is 6 to 8 loors, with some structures on the wider perimetre roads rising to a height of more than 12 loors. he process of development of Boulaq el-Dakrour resembles the natural growth of cities before industrial utopias and social engineering ideas were introduced into urban planning. It is similar in many ways to a large portion of the existent ‘legitimate’ city. he most striking visual diference, in form and density, results from the constraints imposed on informal areas, which are actually due to the inappropriate locations where they oten grow, and the absence of state support. Like many informal areas, Boulaq el-Dakrour is 100 % self-inanced. It provides demand-driven incremental housing stock that yields a compact and low-energy consuming built form. his ofers an eicient mixture of uses that allow work-home proximity and relative district self-suiciency; exactly what city planners, neighbourhood designers, sustainability policies and international environmental agendas are calling for. ➫ Private nursery in a ground-loor apartment (photograph by Dina K. Shehayeb) ➫ A recent empirical research in Boulaq elDakrour underlined a few spatial characteristics of the area, such as ‘walkability’, basic ‘self-suficiency’, ‘convenience’, ‘safety’, and ‘community participation’ in the provision of collective amenities and regular upkeep. he following are a few highlights: Services and Commercial Activities Boulaq el-Dakrour contains shops and markets that fully meet its residents’ needs. 100 % of the 2008 study sample bought all their needs from within Boulaq el-Dakrour. In addition, residents appreciate the afordable cost of goods in those shops and markets; they perceive the stores positively as a source of income for the area’s residents. he same can be said about the presence of workshops in Boulaq el-Dakrour. Although they may pose some nuisance to the residents such as noise or pollution, the positive value of having one’s needs at walking distance tended to override its disadvantages. Work-home proximity Another advantage found in Boulaq el-Dakrour is the proximity between work and home; 60 % of residents go to work on foot. he advantages of walking to work are numerous. Besides environmental gains from reducing energy consumption and pollution produced from vehicular means of transportation, at the individual level, walking to work saves money, allowing for the fulillment of other needs and errands on the way—an activity pattern that saves time and efort as well as money. transportation Walking is the most utilized means of transport in Boulaq el-Dakrour. he compactness of the built form and the inter-connectedness between the commercial pedestrian streets and the residential ones, uninterrupted by wide vehicular traic streets, are major factors. he second most used means of transportation in the neighbourhood is the microbus, a local, privately owned and run means of mass transit. Although the quality of the microbus is poor, it efectively compensates for the absence of public transportation, which should be provided by the state. Self-help Services such as street lighting and cleaning, garbage collection and public landscaping are performed quite successfully in residential streets where narrow widths restrict the access of strangers and through-traic, and allows for the appropriation and control of those streets by the residents. People clean and maintain what they feel is theirs. he limit of resident participation in what should be state responsibility stops at the main streets. Shared by a multitude, those streets are more public and open to outsiders. hey are more diicult for residents to control. his leads to deterioration and neglect; piles of garbage, inadequate street lighting, poor pavement conditions. he failure of the state to perform its public responsibility is most evident in this territorial domain. “my street… my home” he stranger-free residential quality of the street renders it an extension of the home; a private protected place where children can play and women can sit to exchange news and knowledge. his appropriation of the “near home environment” serves several functions simultaneously. It compensates for the modest private space of the apartment; but more importantly, it helps build community ties. When neighbours know each other, social solidarity increases, collective initiatives are easier to materialize and surveillance and self-policing occur naturally. Self- policing When a community’s sense of safety is high, the opportunity to commit crimes decreases. People are out on the streets which leads to more “eyes on the street,” stronger community ties and less opportunity for no-good-doers to iniltrate the neighbourhood. In Boulaq el-Dakrour, residents perceive their area as a relatively safe environment, with occasional nuisances such as traic accidents, hustling or harassment. his is relected in the freedom of mobility for women, the uncontrolled children’s play on the street, the unlocked doors or windows, as well as the type of accidents reported. Despite its reputation, Boulaq el-Dakrour is generally a safe neighbourhood with a limited number of shady streets, associated with drug consumption, drug dealing and DeTAChMenT fROM STATe … max. approriation of space semi - “private” control Surveillance leads to safety Collective private Collective “appropriated” space public —rooftops —building entrance —stairwells —restricted access residential street — vehicular arteries beyond control COMMunITY COnTROl DeMAnD fOR gOveRnMenT COnTROl Decorations arranged by the community in celebration of the holy month of Ramadan (photograph by Dina K. Shehayeb) prostitution, in the absence of police protection however; a manifestation of an absent government support and of marginalization. his is evidenced by the marginal amount of crime and fear in such a city scale settlement—with a million plus inhabitants. Social solidarity—Community building “Sense of community”, “cooperation”, “presence of family and kin”, “feeling of safety”, “social interaction”, “companionship”, and “liveliness” are all advantages expressed by the residents of Boulaq el-Dakrour. hey stressed the value of the community, the good neighbourly relations, the attachment and solidarity enjoyed within their neighbourhood. hey oten positively described Boulaq el-Dakrour as a “popular district, lively, friendly, and "alive round the clock”. he density of inhabitants was recognized as one of the leading factors behind this liveliness. Such factors decrease the dependence on local authorities, emphasizing the detachment from the state. he state that does not even want to acknowledge those community initiatives and eforts; that does not capitalize on this potential, making partnerships with the people, but rather punishes them with threats of relocation. he advantages of self-suiciency experienced in Boulaq el-Dakrour are not always readily perceived by the residents themselves, who sufer the stigma of the negative image of informal areas so emphasized by the government and promoted by the media. he marginalization of informal area residents, the stigmatization of its youth, their hopes, their dreams and the lacking protection from drugs and hustling, is causing those places to attract more illegal activities than the better protected districts. Leaving local private initiative to provide for the amenities and services without due support from the government does have its price. he constraints within which Boulaq el-Dakrour grew, in addition to its location, the agricultural and entrepreneurial initial subdivision, as well as the post-facto introduction of infrastructure, has led to major shortcomings in its standard of living. It contributed to the poor quality of roads and means of transportation, the poorly ventilated dwellings and unregulated construction —which may vary in safety depending on the local contractor’s expertise. hose problems relect the absence of state regulations. In addition, another set of problems arises in domains where the residents of Boulaq el-Dakrour, like those of any other informal area, cannot replace the state. Such domains include: garbage collection beyond the residential streets where residents invest time and efort achieving it; the quality of water and infrastructure networks; and public transportation to compliment the privately-provided means. Vehicle-associated accident rates are higher in Boulaq el-Dakrour due to the unregulated microbus service. Microbus drivers are oten minor teens between 13 and 17 years old, sometimes younger. he above problems encapsulate the lack of support and rights, all of which a government owes its citizens. hose are the negative aspects of the refuge that many Egyptians have sought in informal areas. Nonetheless, informal areas still provide a better value for cost than what planners ofer in the alternative, so-called ‘new communities’. Measures of liveability go beyond the initial cost of housing. And informal areas enable women to safely walk their neighbourhoods, girls to continue their education; they ofer access to better nutrition, with the presence of fresh-produce markets within walking distance. In informal areas, people watch out for each other, ofering assistance in case of emergency. All of this is found in Boulaq el-Dakrour, but planning professionals and policy-makers refuse to learn from it. he result is that mid and low-income groups, like the upper classes, have chosen ‘detachment from the state’ as their best viable option. pARTneRShIp: hOw? 1. 2. 3. 4. Dialogue (2-ways) on equal power basis government acknowledges people’s potentials Agree on responsibilities of each partner establish regulatory mechanisms to: enABlIng COMMunITY COnTROl gOveRnMenT ACCOunTABIlITY pARTneRShIp: hOw? “pICKup wheRe I leAve” (Based on a commissioned empirical study conducted by the author in Boulaq el-Dakrour in August 2008 for the Participatory Development Program in Urban Areas—GTZ—Egypt). COMMunITY gOveRnMenT meeting midway map A—ThRee eSTIMATeS Of InfORMAl AReAS In The gReATeR CAIRO RegIOn Different entities have produced discrepant estimates for the size of Informal Areas in Cairo. each of the governorates forming the greater Cairo Region provide an estimate for the size of informal areas within their jurisdiction. These igures amount to a total of 34 km2 and 2.1 million inhabitants (2005). The general Organization of physical planning (gOpp), which is the central government body responsible for urban planning in egypt, has a larger estimate of 94 km2 and 5.9 million inhabitants (1993). The participatory Development program (pDp) at the gTz (german Technical Cooperation Agency —egypt) produced a higher estimate: Based on detailed spatial analyses using satellite images, their calculation totals 133 km2 and 8.3 million inhabitants (2002). The estimates vary according to the deinition that each entity ascribes to Informal Areas and the purpose each deinition / estimate serves. SOuRCe: gTz—The german Technical Cooperation Agency in Cairo governorate g.O.O.p g.T.z. Spatial Data Sources (opposite page): The 2001 / 2000 and 1950 maps are provided by the gTz (german Technical Cooperation Agency, Cairo), based on data from CApMAS (Central Agency for public Mobilization and Statistics, Cairo). The 1991 map was produced by CeDej (Centre d’Études et de Documentation Économiques, juridiques et Sociales, Cairo) in collaboration with gTz, based on CApMAS data. The 1977 map is from gTz based on a CApMAS scan of data provided by Ign (Institut géographique national, france). map B—ChROnOlOgICAl DevelOpMenT Of InfORMAl AReAS In 1950, 1977, 1991 AnD 2000 Situation –1977 Core villages –1950 Core villages –1950 Situation –1991 Situation –2000 Core villages –1950 / Situation –1977 Core villages –1950 / Situation –1977 / –1991 04—legAlIzIng An uRBAn TuMOuR Case #11: Street language in Cairo’s vehicular Transportation Systems focus: Medium Sized Buses A projECt By mArWAn fAyED—tExt By ShAhIrA ISSA Legalizing an Urban Tumour is an investigation into design methodology. hrough a series of case studies, the project proposes a design strategy that accommodates appropriations of a given framework. he project takes as its point of departure the complex urban dynamic that emerges at the site of collision between non-aligned responses to a particular structure and the abstract blueprint that informs its urban setting. Acquiring momentum, this dynamic re-orders the structure and its environment, leaving the initial plan irrelevant or defunct. Oten regarded as chaos, the result is a multiplicity of contending forces that simultaneously occupy a singular plane. Legalizing an Urban Tumour traces the logic ordering this chaos, so as to interpret the present design of the urban complex at hand. Based on observations of public behaviour in the urban setting, interactive and site-speciic interventions are incrementally introduced, lending themselves adaptable to a constantly mutating landscape. hrough a cyclical process of observation and proposal, the design act is stretched in time. It no longer precedes the design, but inhabits it. Rather than dictate function, it ascribes it to the city’s inhabitants who continuously reprogram public space. In case #11, spontaneous communication modes between drivers and passengers are analyzed in three difering vehicular transportation systems in Cairo: the smaller-sized private taxi, the medium-sized public / private buses, and the larger public bus. his study closely observes the case of the medium sized buses. a motioning technique was gradually developed to signal the vehicle’s route. Site—A luid protocol he absence of efective traic regulations in Cairo—such as designated lanes, traic lights, speed limits, pedestrian crossings … etc.—has given rise to an alternative and luid code founded on instantaneous, interpersonal and mostly visual communication channels. For example, right of way is not administered according to a standardized system, but is usually negotiated (visually) between the intersecting drivers, or the driver and the pedestrian, according to the variables of each encounter (such as surrounding traic density, driving speed, route… etc.). Vocabulary—Gestures for a street iconography his sign language quickly spread, especially in highly populated areas, to become the chief mode of communication between the conductor and potential passengers. Iconic, the language employs hand gestures whose form directly relects a visual representation of the destination they signify. For example, to designate al-hayy al-sabi’, which translates to ‘the 7th District’, the hand takes the shape of the number seven in Arabic ( 7 = ٧ ), illustrated in igure ➪ #5 Dynamic—he emergence of a sign language he interpersonal code is central to the communication between the Mini- / Micro-bus driver and the potential passengers: he lack of a visible destination marker on the bus led pedestrians to depend on a hasty exchange with the driver regarding his route. Due to the harsh and unpredictable traic conditions of the city, this information needed to be conveyed prior to the bus’s arrival at the meeting point (an informally agreed upon stop). In order not to prolong the bus’s oten unauthorized stopover, causing a trafic lock, the driver hired an assistant whose role was to call out the vehicle’s destination—as well as collect the bus fare. Occasional absence of the assistant created a communication gap between the driver and the pedestrians. In compensation, method—In silent conversation … he street language observed in the case of medium-sized buses ofers the architect a design index. It operates in place of a blueprint, providing the potential for a grounded intervention. hrough a mechanism of trigger (design proposal) and response (its appropriation), the observed dynamic is translated into a design practice. ❑ marwan fayed, An architect and designer, Marwan Fayed explores Cairo’s urban structures through a series of experimental interventions, building upon the existing practices of city-dwellers and the ways in which they navigate their lived space. Fayed is interested in optimising resources available to the local design industry. He currently runs his own design studio and teaches at the German University in Cairo. vehicle destination is illegible from the point of view of the potential passengers 2m An assistant is hired to advertise the vehicle’s destination to the public. 4m The occasional absence of the assistant triggered the coinage of a sign language shared between the driver and the potential passengers. 10 m 10 m The gestures condense into a codiied norm, adopted by the driver/conductor and the potential passengers. lexicon—Icons signifying names of Districts used by the Mini- / Micro-Bus Driver and the passengers #1—al-salam (i.e. peace) #2—rab’ah (i.e. the fourth) #3—giza (i.e. giza, on the nile river) #4—al-haram (i.e. the pyramids) #5—al-hayy al-sabi’ (i.e. The 7th District) #6—al-hayy al-‘asher (i.e. The 10th District) #7—giza (i.e. giza Square) #8—mahatet ramsis (i.e. Ramses Station) 05—A fORuM Of enCOunTeR By DInA K. ShEhAyEB / AhmED ZAAZAA game’at al-Duwwal al-‘Arabia Boulevard in Mohandesseen Aerial view of the Mostafa Mahmoud roundabout in the centre of game’at al-Duwwal boulevard (Source: Mohamed el-Azzazy) Although founded only 55 years ago, the Mohandesseen district was most afected by the economic, social and political changes that the City of Cairo experienced from the 1950’s to date. One particular boulevard in this formally-planned district underwent a unique transformation that led to its rise from the neighbourhood’s vehicular artery to the city-scale phenomenon it is today. Game’at al-Duwwal al-‘Arabia street hosts multiple events and paradoxical activities throughout the year, such as shopping, eating, national celebrations, seasonal tourism, riots, prayers and prostitution to name just a few. Originally planned as two projects Madinat alMohandesseen and Madinat al-Awqaf, the Mohandesseen district is one of the planned extensions of the 1950’s Greater Cairo. It was developed on agricultural land owned by al-Awqaf (the Ministry managing private properties that are set up as charity trusts) to provide afordable housing to young professionals. In Arabic, the term Mohandesseen means engineers. he name is ascribed to the fact that this new district was subdivided into zones, each ofering housing opportunities to members of a particular professional syndicate: A zone was dedicated to al-Sahafeyeen (journalists), another to al-Mo’allemeen (teachers), and a third to al-Atebaa’ (doctors). he name Mohandesseen (engineers) overrode the other zone designations to formally represent the entire Awqaf City. Later, from the late 1950’s well into the 1960’s, plot subdivisions were sold for private development under zoning regulations that licensed residential villas and a maximum of 4-storey apartment buildings. In 1974, president Anwar El Sadat established a new economic policy “al-Initah”, the Open Door policy. he state abandoned its commitment to social housing and depended more on private individual investments, which led to a dramatic increase in land prices. As a result of this policy, along with the increasing housing demand, the zoning regulations that lent Mohandesseen its initial quiet, green and residential character were abolished by a Ministerial Decree in the mid-1980’s. Villas were torn down to give way to high-rise apartment buildings and towers; owners added storeys to their buildings. Consequently, the population grew rapidly, and so did the traic. he location of Mohandesseen makes it a middleground; a space of continuous tension and negotiations between difering socio-economic strata. With upper-class Zamalek to the East, middleclass Dokki to the South, lower-class Imbaba with its public housing estates to the North, and one of the largest informal areas Boulaq al-Dakrour to the West, Mohandesseen gains a unique socio-spatial quality. Furthermore, Mohandesseen includes, engulfed within its geometric street patterns, the village of Mit-‘Oqbah, which is the largest of seven rural settlements entrapped in the modern urban fabric of Giza. he elevated 6th of October Road (i.e. bridge) connecting Mohandesseen to Cairo’s 19th century Central Business District (CBD) assisted in transforming this new district into a secondary CBD. In addition, the 26th of July artery (which is linked to the 6th of October road) has come to link Mohandesseen to the fastest booming peripheral development of Greater Cairo; a development which encompasses the new city of 6th October, Sheikh Zayed City, the rapidly growing gated-communities nearby, and the ones around the regional roads west of Cairo—namely, the Cairo–Alexandria Road and the Cairo–Oasis Road. Mohandesseen thus became the portal that connects Greater Cairo to other regions; ones of aluence and inluence. Celebrations on game’at al-Duwwal boulevard upon winning the African nations Cup in 2006 (Source: Ahmed zaazaa) he impact of such developments is relected along Game’at al-Duwwal al-‘Arabia street— or boulevard as it should be rightfully termed, given its 8-lane traic, service roads, wide sidewalks, and 50 metre-wide garden in the middle. With its chain restaurants and retail shops, the boulevard attracts Arab tourists from the Gulf. he name, which means ‘the Arab League,’ perhaps contributed to this attraction. Transformed into an entertainment boulevard with a central garden and wide sidewalks, the street gradually became one of the most important commercial streets in Egypt. So much that when the national football team wins a game or a regional tournament, Game’at al-Duwwal becomes the stage for celebration; a parade of honking cars and lagwaving young men; of motorcycle shows and cheering performances that continue on till the following morning. To this day, it continues to attract football fans from all over the city, and has been aired more than once in the international media. In daytime, many employees head to Mohandesseen for work. It is said to be the economic driver for the growth of Boulaq al-Dakrour informal area. At night Game’at al-Duwwal boulevard acts as a main entertainment venue. With its mix of kiosks, expensive restaurants and cafés, popular fast food shops, beverage stands and mobile food caravans, the boulevard ofers dining and hangout places to diferent income-groups of all ages, as well as inexpensive promenade. he garden in the middle of the road attracts families from crowded Mit-‘Oqbah and Boulaq al-Dakrour; it provides a breathing space for children in search of a public playground, and a refuge for couples seeking romantic settings. he Mostafa Mahmoud mosque, which provides free quality medical services, and is reputed for its management of charity funds ‘zakah’, grew in religious and cultural esteem to become a beacon among the rich as well as the poor all year round. Each night, the mosque is illuminated by green lorescent lights to emphasize the building located midway along the Boulevard. For the past decade, the portion of Game’at al-Duwwal boulevard in front of the mosque has hosted thousands of men, women and children who lock to the boulevard for the dawn-prayers of the most revered religious feast in Islam—‘Eid al-Adha. People from all walks of life share this moment of prayer on the asphalt of this boulevard year ater year. Again, the boulevard asserts itself as a unique platform where a diverse spectrum of social classes, age and gender groups participate in a singular event, without a hierarchical framework governing their interaction. During the Holy month of Ramadan, the space obtains a new image; the mosque embraces many religious activities where more than 6500 meals are distributed to the poor. Two large tents furnished with tables and chairs are set up to host the passer-by for Iftar, the irst meal ater the daily fast. Aterwards, the tables and chairs are stored in a corner and the two tents are prepared for the evening prayer; one dedicated for men and the other for women. In 2005, this site witnessed the demonstration of Sudanese refugees who camped for little less than 80 days in this highly visible location—opposite the UNHCR oice—protesting against the UNCHR asylum policy. Users and activity patterns change in the boulevard from morning to night; it becomes a dif- Sudanese refugees in protest on game’at al-Duwwal boulevard in 2005 (Source: fawzy el-gazaerly) Celebrations after the 'eid al-Adha dawn prayers in the fountain at the Mostafa Mahmoud roundabout, in game’at al-Duwwal boulevard (Source: Mohamed el-Azzazy and Ahmed zaazaa) A igure-ground for Mohandesseen district, with game’at al-Duwwal boulevard running diagonally across its centre. The plan shows how the formally planned district of Mohandesseen engulfed the older village core of Mit-‘Oqba, the denser urban fabric towards the top left. Along the far left, lies the informal area of of Boulaq el-Dakrour, clearly marked by its compact urban fabric. (Source: Ahmed zaazaa) ferent setting at diferent times of the day. Early in the morning, food carts serve foul and falafel sandwiches, and hot tea to workers, drivers and oice assistants. During the day, it mainly functions as a circulation artery for private cars and mass-transit. Ater the 3-hour-traic jam from 3 : 00 to 6 : 00 in the aternoon, the street changes as the employees inish their work, taking on its leisure identity: families window shopping; groups of young women and others of men promenading arm-in-arm; street vendors selling newspapers, magazines, sunglasses and toys overlow from the sidewalk onto the road; prostitutes walking up and down waiting to be picked up. It has everything and everyone; women in tight trousers and others in strictly black conservative veil (the neqab); the young mechanic from Boulaq al-Dakrour, and the rich Saudi teen in his sports convertible; neighbourhood youth and those driving tens of kilometres to join in. In summer, the season of Arab tourism, you ind horses for hire and the occasional belly dancer accompanied by a rababa player. Like a circus till the early hours of the next day, Game’at al-Duwwal never sleeps. ❑ ‘eid al-Adha dawn prayers on game’at al-Duwwal boulevard (Source: internet) Ahmed yehia Zaazaa is an architect and teacher assistant at the Arab Academy for Science and Technology in Cairo. His architectural practice focuses on merging design theory with the realities of everyday use so as to address the issue of poverty in Egypt. Zaazaa is currently completing his masters degree thesis on the characteristics of informal areas in comparison with the deining criteria of vernacular architecture. references: ➻ Mohamed Azzazy, “Mostafa Mahmoud Square and the Mosque Piazza, El Mohandeseen, Cairo, Egypt”, an unpublished term-paper submitted in the Masters Program in Architecture, Arab Academy for Science and Technology ➻ Andre Raymond, “Cairo, the nightmares of growth”, Harvard University Press, 2001, p. 339 – 375. ➻ Iqbal Baraka, “To be Greater Cairo”, Al-Ahram Journal, № 43556, Sunday 8th March, 2006. (Arabic) ➳ http://www.ahram.org.eg/archive/Search.asp 06—plAnnIng CAIRO...? A Chronology By fAWZy El-GAZAErly, ShAhIrA ISSA & DInA K. ShEhAyEB Contemporary Cairo is a collage of urban patterns patched into the city fabric, since its inception in the 10th Century A.D. he timeline below highlights snapshots from diferent planning acts that channelled this process of transformation. hroughout the 200 years of colonialism, western architecture heavily inluenced the city. On one level, Cairo’s street patterns retain a large portion of the medieval city texture. Its buildings on the other hand, mostly relect 19th Century architecture with a few remnants from earlier epochs. Post WWII, standardized mass-housing projects became the trend of city growth. Shortly ater Egypt’s Independence in 1952, Cairo followed suit. Modernization brought about rapid urbanization and housing demand was met with public housing projects in peripheral areas. Standardized housing estates remained a main ingredient of government-led city planning from the 1950’s well into the 1970’s. he 1982 Planning Law failed to regulate Cairo’s urban development, rendering violations of building height and zoning regulations the norm. Master plans remained unrealized, lagging behind the development processes of both formal and informal areas. Gradually, Private-sector development came to dictate the major changes in the city’s planning … 969 – 974 A.D.: Cairo is born… late 1800’s: ‘paris on the nile’ Early 20th Century: “Belle Epoche” 1950’s – 1960’s: mass housing In 969, Gawhar al-Siqilli founds al-Qahira, which by 974 A.D. becomes the new imperial capital for the Caliph al-Mu’izz al-Din of the Fatimid Dynasty. Designed for the complex court society, the rectangular walled city was divided into quarters and liberally endowed with palaces and gardens. Indigenous populations along with commercial and industrial activities still occupied the older city of Misr-Fustat. he renowned traveler Ibn Battutah calls it the “Mother of Cities…”. Muhammed ‘Ali launches the modernization of Egypt in 1805. he transformation of Cairo however, is to be accredited to his grandson, the Khedive Isamail (1863 – 1879). In an act of grandeur the Khedive expanded the capital by more than one square mile, adding modern parks and bridges, a European planned downtown, an exquisite residential island, a 15 km road to the pyramids, an opera and several palaces and hotels along the Nile. he population of Cairo approaches 590,000 by 1897. Western planning continues to shape entrepreneurial expansions of Cairo. he two major islands in the River Nile, Zamalek and Manial alRawdah are subdivided; and expansions cross the Nile onto Giza on the Western bank of the river. Along with the natural growth of the urban agglomeration, Cairo witnesses the development of two distant suburbs, Maadi (1904) and Heliopolis or Misr al-Jadidah, referring to a ‘new Egypt’ (1905). Connected by means of a light rail system from their inception, these suburbs introduced new variations of Westernized urban patterns to the city. Ater the revolution in 1952, the demand for housing in the capital is addressed, rendering construction of low and mid income public housing a national priority. Following global trends of the time, rows of uniform apartment blocks provided prototypical dwelling units to factory workers and government employees. Between 1960 and 1964, the government built 15,582 units of the 40,000 units planned to accommodate the population increase by 1970. Concurrently, the 1956 Cairo Master Plan gives birth to the government-sponsored and self-contained satellite communities of Nasr City (20,000 acres) and Mohandesseen. In July 1965, president Nasser decrees the formation of the Higher Committee of Planning for the Greater Cairo Region. 1970’s: new Cities… more mass housing 1980’s: failing regulations… no planning 1990’s: planning ‘post-facto’… 2000’s – 2050: In 1976, Cairo’s share from the Egyptian population growth totaled 18.2 %. Along with natural population increase, poor investment in the development of provinces led to internal migration from rural areas to Greater Cairo, causing the city’s inhabitants to reach 45 % of Egypt’s urban population. President Sadat launched the construction of 14 new cities in the desert to detract the Nile valley, especially Cairo, from its population. Billions of dollars of public money were invested in those new cities; which 20 years ater their inception, failed to reach but 25 % of their targeted population. Inappropriate segregatory planning and standardized housing blocks, along with inadequate services resulted in hostile, barren wastelands of low livability; only potentially accommodating for upper income groups able to commute to the city for subsistence. A decade marked by the economic shit from socialism to capitalism. During the 80’s, land prices steadily rise and real-estate development attracts businessmen, causing a construction boom. Cairo expands vertically, with extra loors added to existing buildings, and villas and palaces demolished to give way to mediocre high-rise apartment ediices. Apart from a few that close enough to Cairo, were able to develop into dependent suburbs, most of the new extension cities grew into little more than ghost towns. Combined with natural population growth, this led migrant communities from rural districts to take refuge in the periurban informal areas. According to a study, 80 % of the housing stock produced between the 60’s and 80’s is informal, i.e. illegally built. In order to resolve the exploding traic congestion, a series of elevated roads and tunnels are constructed, leaving the city dissected. In the meantime, upper classes are attracted to suburban developments mushrooming along the capital’s regional roads. Marketed as the Egyptian dream, gated communities and compounds gain momentum. And a ‘New Cairo’, more impressive in size than its predecessor Misr al-Jadidah, is built south east of Cairo to cover 294 km2 of land (i.e. 138 % the area of Cairo city). Real-estate developers take the lead and partner with politicians; and patching up replaces planning to give grounds for real-estate development. “A beacon of culture and leisure… a green sustainable city… a lawful and innovatively managed city of equal opportunities… a world class tourist destination… will be the Cairo of 2050.” Once again Cairo is subject to grand visions of the powerful. In place of comprehensive and thorough planning that serves the collective good, Cairo enters the new Millennium with ineffective law enforcement and the establishment of a laissez-faire policy. ❑ 07—pARAnOID CITY Cairo is a city that invites paranoia in its inhabitants. he city is divided between a central system highly believed to beneit those who are responsible for its maintenance, and a set of individual practices that compensate for the failures and lack of this central system. hese individual practices manifest themselves not only in the numerous informal housing blocks that punctuate the urban landscape, but seep into every aspect of the city’s life and activity, from parking cars to signing contracts. hese practices are as luid as they are a constant attempt to deal with an unstable system that they themselves continually change. Because these practices are set outside of a central or juridical system, not only are they unable to look to that system for protection, but its ghost becomes a constant threat to all. At any moment, that central or juridical system could attempt to reclaim or alter those practices that emerged in its place. he government will demolish informal housing at random or outsource or formalize activities such as garbage collecting—all of which threaten the livelihoods of entire communities. In short, what is a rule in Cairo one day—a prac- By ImAn ISSA ticed custom—could the next day be shited by a new factor, forcing a new loophole to be found in an already punctured system. his means that no form of interaction is set in stone, no contract is 100 % binding and there is always a possibility of a hidden agenda, no matter how small or high the stakes are—and sometimes they are really high. One could say that there is a constant need to deine things in a city like this. You are always looking for the means with which to mark your position, and who or what you need to mark it against. You search for telltale signs of their position, the extent of their power, and most importantly how they view you, which means that in Cairo you are constantly coming face to face with your own image. Due to this constant repositioning, as an inhabitant of the city you become extremely sensitive to the tiniest discordance between what you are familiar with and what you are confronted with at any given moment. You become paranoid; you inhabit a space of constant doubt. his doubt could be the result of the intentional or accidental convergence of discordant forms, like the moment a statement made by a person transforms a perception of him / her from a certain type of politician, salesman, or next-door neighbor to something else completely, or the moment we realize that the details (color, gesture, location), or presence of a certain monument or statue fail to align with a given historical narrative. One also encounters doubt when a certain form does not correspond with its stated function, like when a program on television presented as entertainment is viewed as political propaganda, or when a store sign or decorative element is believed to be used to mark a certain territory against possible intruders. In a paranoid state, we infer a hidden intention behind all forms, but in doing so, do we not also change those very forms? he possibility of hidden agendas places everything around us under suspicion. When one doubts the manner by which a billboard is constructed, its location, what is placed on it, or the choice to build certain buildings and not others, where, and why, or the decision to erect certain monuments, and how they are presented, does this not change the way one sees and hears? Does it not change the very ap- 08—The ThIRD lAnguAge Since my move to a new room in another district of the city, a mysterious intermittent sensation of imbalance has been my companion. Only accidentally ater a few days of living there did I notice the reasons behind this feeling. I was standing by the window observing the trees in front of my new house and listening carefully to the low rustle of their leaves when a man passed in front of me, speaking on his cell phone in a language that I couldn’t recognize. I suddenly realized that the dizzy vertiginous spells I had been experiencing lately might be due to the change in the composition of the soundscape that loats into the room through this window. What was missing from what I had been used to for many years in my old dwelling was the sound of Turkish. My previous room was located in a street mostly inhabited by Turkish immigrants, and it was thus that snippets of conversations in a language I did not know became my familiar companion. Every now and then I would discern a speciic word reminiscent in its enunciation or phrasing to Arabic; my mother tongue. At other moments a loose loud laugh or the angry voices of people in a quarrel would interrupt the silence of my room, and I would feel that my window opened up onto a district in Cairo. I wondered, as I stood watching the empty spot where the man with the cell phone had earlier been standing and talking, how bits and pieces of this language I did not know had slipped through my window into the depths of my consciousness; a thin ilm of lubricating oil that greatly decreases the friction between German that I mainly used in my daily public interactions, and my own inner voice in Arabic. It had given me a powerful sense of security and granted me a welcome distance from both languages. his belated realization was alas only possible ater I had lost Turkish’s daily presence when I moved houses. It is oten said that moving residence will leave you feeling a bit unbalanced, that it is a natural feeling that slowly eases of as you get used to your new dwelling. However, my sudden discovery of the role that Turkish had played in my life without me even knowing it, coupled with the extremity of my reaction to losing it, was to say the least quite astonishing. For I had never been attracted by its sound. Actually, I have been quite neutral towards the language since my irst en- pearance of forms? For it might be that, through doubting the use of forms, we permanently mark them—we alter the way they are seen and the manner by which they are understood. Here, as opposed to a building, we might only see a façade, instead of map, a collection of lines. In terms of living conditions, paranoia is certainly unhealthy. It makes for hyper self-conscious subjects and a somewhat diicult life, but is it possible to learn something from the space of doubt it ofers? For although in a state of paranoia, we imagine seeing things where they might not exist, can this actually furnish a tool for a different kind of clarity altogether? Doubt limits one’s ability to instantly judge. It produces a space in which the process of deinition is prolonged; that is, we are unable to immediately locate an element or scenario using a familiar vocabulary. In a state of doubt, references are no longer ixed but loat, while associations are made and unmade. Surely this is an uncomfortable space to inhabit, but it could also be a space that provides a possibility for established forms and conditions to be redeined. When we doubt the motivation for how a map was drawn By hAythAm El-WArDAnI counter with it when I moved to Berlin. For example, I was never interested in learning it or getting to know it better. Most of my linguistic attention had been devoted to monitoring the endless forms of friction between my mother tongue and the language of the city in which I now live. A relationship that has haunted my exhausting attempts at refashioning an identity and a life for myself within the embrace of a completely new language. A tension that lingers into the night when I meet a friend at his room or at a close by nighttime haunt to review the day so as to ease the weights of its happenings and to extract from it our daily ration of amusing ironies. For our lives in this city were facilitated by the interaction between two languages, a new foreign one associated with daytime negotiations, while our mother tongue was reserved for the night. At times, like two composite melodies, these two languages would intertwine and ill the skies of the city with their musical clamor, while at others the dissonance of their collision could almost make you deaf. It was then though that we would transform into a pack of wolves invading the nighttime city to look for prey, to wreak havoc and to then de- part with our spoils; to dance a primordial victory dance as our howls reach the moon. It was thus with real surprise that I found out that what had granted me a sense of balance in this city was a third marginal voice, the low murmur of a people I did not know, a people I lived amongst yet never belonged to. Immigrants like me, sharing a similar position in the hierarchy of the city; afected by the same conditions that afect me although we share neither language nor origins. I continued to live in Berlin, and as the years passed my mother tongue changed its position. Inevitably ties with former friends were loosened as meetings and visits declined. I plunged into a long interior monologue, in which my mother tongue became an inner voice that I almost only listened to with my inner ear. A language I rarely used to communicate with the external world; the discovery of how important Turkish had become to my sense of balance, made me realize the depths of my linguistic vagrancy. For I had always believed that my mother tongue was a safe harbor, a source of security in my new life; while the fact was as I discovered that day while listening to the sound of the trees, that the secret a certain way or a monument was moved or replaced, do we not simultaneously redeine for ourselves what we believe to be the function, use and character of a map or a monument? In this sense, the spaces produced by this constant doubt can allow one to question the most basic structural parameters of forms that might otherwise have been taken for granted. It can actually furnish a space for knowledge. In a state of doubt, we are also constantly looking for the external means by which to verify our conclusions, and in certain cases we might be able to locate those means. For example, as we tentatively ascribe value to an object, a building, that is later proven to lack that value—as we read intention into what later proves to be accidental, or vice versa—do we not then encounter the material space of a rit between a newly acquired fact and a prior judgment? hat is, don’t we run the very productive risk of coming face to face with ourselves? Iman Issa (b. 1979, Cairo) is an artist based in Cairo and New York. source of tranquility was a third language I did not know: a language that had the advantage of being light and free from past associations, a language that I had no desire to understand. Its fragments and phrases act like powerful talismans and resurrect my irst city, Cairo while keeping it suspended outside my window. But does the Turkish language really possess this lightness that I have imbued upon it? Of course not; for Turkish, a language that used to be written in Arabic letters, is not as alien to me as I would like to think. Both languages shared a history as well as a plethora of political and linguistic connections. Is that shared history the reason for its ability to embrace me in an intimate familiarity even as it remains an alien language? Maybe. But why does this composite of familiarity and alienation impart a more powerful sense of security than my own mother tongue? Well, I guess this might be the fate of the vagrant, he who has lost the mantle of his motherland and has been expatriated. His miserable fate is to always be at a distance from everything, both close and far from himself, absent and present at the same time, unable to experience a total and complete sense of security without the familiar being mixed with something strange or foreign to it. he Turkish language itself has in a way passed through a similar moment in its history; the moment of its rarefaction, when it abandoned its written Arabic script and was latinicized. his violent separation, that has made it simultaneously close and distant to me, resembles the space that was granted me by its words, fragments and phrases and sentences. A distance from the constant friction of both languages I used—even if it was a space that I had not been aware of. When I returned on visits to Cairo I never felt the absence of Turkish, for it then gave up its privileged position unexpectedly to another language. For the irst few days I always felt a joy at understanding everything immediately without the need to think about it. I would plunge into the river of words overlowing onto the streets of the city. I would walk listening carefully to everything around me trying to let every word slowly melt in my ears. However, inevitably ater a few days this joy would turn into consternation. he pervasive use of one accent became unpleasant to ears that had experienced many diferent ways of speaking Arabic. his cruel homogenization of language let in me a distinct sensation of belonging to a dominant majority. It lead to a sense of confusion when I would, despite my extreme caution, stammer out what was to Cairene ears an unusual word that I had learned from my interaction with other dialects. It was at such moments, when I would immediately be submitted to a suspicious gaze from the person I am addressing, that I would long for my minority position which granted me the freedom to express myself in a confused fashion. A longing for a language that I did not fully master, in which I could stumble about without embarrassment. Ironically it was the German language, rather than the Turkish one that I most desired at these moments. In the meantime my mother tongue became more and more embedded in its new identity as a delicate, fragile and internal language rather than a language for external communication. Ater some time in my new room I managed to inally overcome my feelings of vertigo. For I had learned a new language of this city, one that I had’nt known before. I sit silently in my room and suddenly start to notice fragments from my neighbor’s life; a phone ringing, the creaking of a door or window, footsteps on the stairs, the echo of a low whisper, water gurgling in the pipes, someone clumsily moving around in the courtyard. In these moments of quiet and solitude the sound of the city comes from a distance deep like the sound of the sea. ❑ Translated by Hassan Khan. El Wardany experienced a culture shock when he moved to Berlin ten years ago. Ater he came in contact with what is known as 'critical art' he had the distinct impression that he was back in the Middle Ages. Being a good son of the 90’s he thought that politics’ interference in literature or art must eventually lead to its intense ideologicization. With time he overcame his shock and learned to becomes less overtly sensitive towards politics, at least when it comes to art. He has even secretly participated in critical artworks. 09—An ARChITeCTuRe Of Refuge, The wAll AnD puBlIC SpACe In new CAIRO By mAZIn ABDUlKArIm, KArEEm nABIl & tAmEr nADEr COnTRAST Designs in Conversation Single family houses on private plots of land where owners demanded from the city council a wall to be built around their property so as to more closely resemble the image of the neighbouring gated-community. his decade has been marked by an increasing criticism of urban dynamics and city formation processes. On the one hand, urban scholars claim that the city is dead; on the other, ‘new’ models of urban agglomerations have emerged, such as in the Gulf region and China. Koolhaas remarks, “he Gulf is not just reconiguring itself; it’s reconiguring the world … his burgeoning campaign to export a new kind of urbanism … may be the inal opportunity to formulate a new blueprint for urbanism.” If this is the case, it becomes essential to regard the new cities and communities in the Middle and Far East, which are under construction from ‘zero,’ as a relection of refuge and exclusivity. Part of a larger state plan to absorb and redistribute the population and urban activities away from the capital, New Cairo is a recent extension city of Cairo. An emerging urban model, its policies and growth processes are oten received with cynical criticism. Perhaps this is related to what it promises: A ‘new’ versus an ‘old’ situation where all our understandings are to be challenged, and our failures and problems corrected. Promising an improved lifestyle, New Cairo has been the most booming of the proliferating desert cities around Cairo. Unlike its precedent, it is founded on the notion of refuge; the city as a singular statement independent of an existing urban substance. In New Cairo, new urban typologies such as gated communities and exclusive public spaces are at the city’s core. mazin Abdul Karim: In the 1980’s, New Cairo was planned as an extension ‘suburb’ of Cairo. Confronted with the failure of the seventies’ extension cities—that were planned to absorb a segment of Cairo’s increasing population, but only attracted less than 20 % of their prospective inhabitants— the state had a massive campaign in the nineties to sell huge plots of land to private developers. Concurrently, public housing projects were built at the periphery of the new city, leaving centrally located plots for private development. Initially, the objective was to create a sustainable socially balanced community in New Cairo, allowing for economic interdependence. Yet eventually, it developed into an exclusive city for the elite. Somehow New Cairo remains suspended between those two conditions: a Cairo suburb for the rich and a self-suicient city for everyone. Kareem nabil: Perhaps New Cairo attracts a lot of attention because of the claim it makes of being new. Is it really an improved model? A correction of Cairo’s mistakes; or is it merely a conglomerate of secluded residential islands? Has it not failed until now to provide a space for public activities? I think it is attracts attention because it is still in the process of completion. Particularly, its huge scale and the phenomenal speed of its construction trigger critique. he fear of making a mistake, of heading toward an inappropriate direction translates into self-relexivity; into evaluating what we claim to produce, not only as architects and urban planners, but more so as a society. Perhaps this pushes us to criticize it, and not notice its potential. his ‘New Cairo’ model of the contemporary city appeared in order to fulill speciic needs of a targeted client-group. Recently, when the state adopted a neo-liberal agenda, handing over city development to private investors, urban planning directly became a user-dependent process. A speciic user group—namely the upper class—became the sole inhabitants and architects of the city. Eventually New Cairo formed in direct response to the needs of this group; a self-built urban ghetto for the rich. New Cairo is designed to fulill the needs of those clients. It is very important to realize that the results of this process might be regarded as exclusive or elitist; nonetheless, this is where the criticism should be directed. Multiple walls and checkpoints inside the gated compound tamer nader: I think what’s crucial about New Cairo is the diminished role of the state, even in providing basic infrastructure. Unlike a residential suburb, a city is a dynamic organism constantly in the process of morphing and adjusting. One cannot simply put regulations and control urban activity like the modernists wanted to. A city develops along certain dynamics and natural processes that to a certain extent, the state prevented from happening in New Cairo. I essentially look at New Cairo as a situation where our norms of need fulillment are challenged. If a wall around my house better serves my security and privacy needs, why should I oppose it? For example, although elitist and gated, compounds provide privacy and limit social interaction to a select group that shares a common economic status. It is a process of iltering your neighbors. In which case, the wall serves as a catalyst for social interaction, not as a barrier. his takes us to one of the major characteristics of New Cairo, the wall, or what we can call ‘the barrier’. Walls are not new to cities or urban communities. In New Cairo however, they tend to serve a new function. hey intensify and enforce ideas of economic status, seclusion and a rejection of ‘the other’. An attitude of “because we have a wall around us, we are better” starts to form. Take the case of the private property owners who, neighboring two of the biggest gated communities in New Cairo, demanded from city oficials permission to build a wall surrounding their district. When the oicials refused, those residents took advantage of personal connections to high-ranked bureaucrats so as to achieve their goals. Perhaps this relects their eagerness for a façade comparable to that of their neighbors. Yes, the barrier has recently become a literal expression of prestige. For instance, a television commercial of a famous gated community concludes with, “Above Life—Above Cairo”, indicating a life for the elite; the highest class of society, literally above all other social classes. his logic is visible in our built environment. A wall separating the ‘Katameya Heights’ compound from an adjacent publichousing district is almost 20 metres high: ‘higher class, higher ground’. In the neighboring lower class district however, this solid stonewall translates into a 2 or 3 metre-high perforated metal fence that allows visual access to the inside. he barrier serves as a class marker. It’s the new aesthetic; perhaps even the new fashion. It’s fashionable to be on the inside of the wall. It is demanded regardless of a need for security or privacy. Even if the wall is a sign of superiority, it still ofers certain functions that we should perhaps consider realizing without the wall. What could replace the wall? We could start deining the services that the gated community model succeeded in providing, namely privacy, security … etc. Well, does one isolate oneself from the city out of fear or doubt? Living one’s whole life behind walls; driving behind one; working behind one? It is quite interesting that it is exactly those models that are emerging. Gated work environments such as ‘Smart Village’ in the 6th of October city; gated universities such as the American University in New Cairo. Even hospitals in New Cairo are now gated. Perhaps, New Cairo advocates an urbanism of completely isolated and gated islands of activity. An add-on to any building typology, the gate and the wall it proposes re-deine our lifestyle. Construction workers walking along endless kilometers of walls and gates that transform the outside into a ‘no-man’s land’ If we advocate the wall as the new need for all, that even ‘wall-less’ residents have a right to a wall, maybe we could imagine building walls for everybody. Walled public housing for example. he problem is not necessarily the wall itself; but the lifestyle it advocates. Again, this takes us back to the diminished role of the state in providing and regulating security needs for the general public … But do we really have security issues? Perhaps a continuous threat and fear accompanies the widening gap between the two poles of society. hat is a more of a global issue however; I don’t believe it reached the point in Egypt where one should have this attitude towards the other yet. What I am trying to say is that I am not against the existence of high-end resorts, private parks, or even Disney-lands for that matter, as long as the needs of the poor are met with free public parks, beaches … etc. Walls only intensify exclusion and stratiication between social groups. Diferent social and economic classes exist; we encounter them on a daily basis. he wall compartmentalizes those diferences; it’s a physical barrier that constantly reinstates an illusory contrast to what is on the other side: from the inside, a demonized image of hungry ghetto dwellers; and from the outside, a gloriied image of palaces and paradise. Intensifying those images, transforming them into physical barriers, only leads to a huge schism in society. Walls have never been the solution; history taught us that. History also taught us where this exclusion and segregation ends. I think this is simply a matter of fashion. It will disappear on its own. he market demand now is for security, so everybody provides it. When this need is saturated, it will disappear and its opposite will emerge. It will no longer be a sign of superiority, but the norm. he marketdemand will be wall-less communities; history demonstrates this as well. Several examples show that barriers melt in time. Spaces for the elite only last until they are replaced by something better, more elitist. And if this is the case, should we be building all of those walls now? Perhaps this thought forces us to think what comes ater the gate? What follows the barrier? Hasn’t that already happened with the multibarriers? More security and more barriers as a sign of extra-superiority. Gated communities inside gated communities, more walls and checkpoints; not for security as claimed, but as a signiier of status. Hasn’t it already become old-fashioned to live in a gated community? Isn’t the need for distinction the engine that is currently driving New Cairo? Another important point that keeps coming up is the role of the state in New Cairo. I don’t think it should be limited to providing infrastructure or building regulations, leaving the city to grow “legally”. A city requires oicials, with visions to propose, plans to achieve and services to provide. Rather than real-estate developers, it is the state that is obliged to provide services in a ‘new’ city. It takes it to another level altogether when that infrastructure is provided and facilitated for developers, but not for the majority of citizens—the actual urban population. I think you touched upon the second most critical issue here, public space. he lack of public space in New Cairo is one of its biggest failures. If the city provides for collective activity within a deined public space; and if public space is the tissue that keeps the city together, then the uninhabited public housing projects, overshadowed by the walls of a neighbouring gated community absence of public space in New Cairo is a failure for both the city and the state. hat’s an outdated critique. Even in Cairo, everything has become privatized and exclusive. Apart from a handful of exceptions, public space has been practically dead for quite a while now in Cairo. For example, in shopping malls, access is denied or granted according to one’s look or dress. Security guards have the right to simply deny entrance for no stated reason. Public space is conventionally deined as a place where chance encounters, temporary gatherings, commercial and themed entertainment take place. It also ofers a platform for mixed uses and diverse activities. Downtown Cairo serves as a good example of such a mixed environment. It is quite interesting that when developers noticed the need for this type of development in New Cairo, they announced projects of mixed-use ‘gate-less’ communities. he interviews and selection processes that one has to go through in order to buy an apartment there however, cancel out this openness. he developer controls public space now, by pre-selecting the residents. Adjectives such as public or free, are just another marketing tool. New Cairo developed according to this paradigm of the privatized public. New Cairo is designed around a central area, ‘the core’. he core is a long mixed-use strip dedicated for leisure, recreation and commercial activities. As part of the modiied strategy to hand the city over to investors, and shit it from a suburb to a self suicient city with its own economic activity, the core was sold to investors and developed into the still-underconstruction strip of oice buildings it is today. his clariies how the continuous failures of New Cairo result from a series of post-facto decisions on behalf of the authorities. Neither parking areas nor traic routes were planned for those oices. In my opinion, if the core is not re-planned soon enough, New Cairo will face serious congestion problems. Perhaps the plan never meant to produce a fragmented city with separate urban identities. Nevertheless, this is what happened as a result of the radical change in the state’s planning strategies. It produced a disjointed city that does not integrate any type of public activity in between its fragments. Each segregated social class occupies a diferent district, and provides itself with its own form of public life. Within their boundaries, there is logic to those spaces, but beyond each of them is either a highway or a mysterious ‘other’. he city is categorized into socially stratiied spaces, each deined irst and foremost, according to the social status of its users. Public space in New Cairo disperses the public rather than brings it together; it spurs frustration and envy rather than integration. ❑ ❑ ❑ Contrast Designs—In 2006, Kareem Hammouda, Mazin Abdul Karim and Tamer Nader founded their design and research practice “CONTRAST Studio”. Besides working as architects and urban designers, they also focus on cultural analysis and critical investigation of architectural practice. heir work has been exhibited internationally and most recently at the Salone Internazionale del Mobile 2009, Milan, and at the Venice Biennale of Architecture 2008.” map C—pOpulATIOn AnD InveSTMenT flOwS By ContrASt DESIGnS—mAZIn ABDUlKArIm State investment in public housing projects of the major new extension cities of the greater Cairo Region (million egyptian pounds), in comparison with the cities’ population counts, according to a 2008 statistic. The new extension cities failed to achieve their estimated population targets by the 1990’s; mainly due to the lack of public transportation infrastructure that links them into Cairo. Accordingly, they transformed into isolated suburbs only accessible by private cars. Source: nuCA (new urban Communities’ Association, Ministry of housing), CApMAS (Central Agency for public Mobilization and Statistics, Cairo), 2008 Sheikh zayed City 1600m 154,093 6th of October City the 10th of Ramadan City 512m al-‘Obour City 125,896 950m 41,000 gam’yat ‘Orabi City al-Sherouq City haik Step City 863m 22,000 Badr City new heliopolis City 1161m new Cairo City 130,303 existing built infrastructure of the greater Cairo Region Administrative territories of the new extension cities State investment in public housing projects of the major extension cities within the greater Cairo Region until 2008, in million egyptian pounds population count of the new cities within the greater Cairo Region in 2008 10—fORMAl / InfORMAl TenSIOn (photograph by fawzy el-gazaerly) The built area in the foreground constitutes nasr City, the largest planned and governmentsponsored extension of the 1950’s. Initially targeting mid-income groups, it currently accommodates higher income classes, and has come to be considered one of Cairo’s business districts. The small-grain spill in the background represents the informal settlement of ‘ezbet al-hagganah housing the lower income communities who were attracted by the job opportunities in nasr City. The surrounding vacant land is Ministry of Defense territory, causing the funnel-shaped development of the informal area. Informal areas closing in on the ring road (photograph by Ahmed zaazaa) Source: Ahmed Zaazaa 11—eATIng AwAY AT plAnneD BARRIeRS By DInA K. ShEhAyEB Cairo’s Ring Road Self-built stairs to access the Ring Road (photograph by Ahmed zaazaa) Improvised stops for private mass transit along the Ring Road (photograph by Maha el-Serafy) During the late 1950’s, with the foundation of the Greater Cairo Planning Agency within the Ministry of Housing and Land Reclamation in Egypt, the city of Cairo became the subject of multiple urban studies. At the time, a series of plans following the norms and principles of modern urban planning were laid out. In the 1970’s, longterm master plan schemes for the Greater Cairo region were initiated, leading to the implementation of a ring road around the Greater Cairo agglomeration. he aim of this highway was to contribute rapidly and signiicantly to a number of chief urban development goals: to reduce private car through traic inside the existing agglomeration by connecting the entrances of the urban region; to support the process of urban de-concentration; and inally, to protect agricultural areas from urban encroachment. he average daily traic low of the Ring Road was estimated to reach 38,000 vehicles in 1990, and about 100,000 vehicles in 2000. he currently implemented alignment was executed between 1985 – 2001. Currently the total length of the Ring Road is about 110 km. At the time of its inception, it was meant to cross more than 50 % on desert land, 15 % on urbanized area, and 35 % on agricultural land. he total budget for the project was calculated at 3 billion Egyptian pounds (DRTPC, 2009). Today the Ring Road encircles the main dense urban area, which contains both the formal core, as well as peripheral informal areas. Although succeeding to achieve its irst goal, reducing through-traic within the city, it failed to achieve its third goal—namely to contain the growth of the city, especially over agricultural land. he 8 new satellite cities that form the “outer belt” of the Ring Road have uncontrollably expanded beyond the initial master plans, over-achieving the Ring Road’s objective—to contain the growth of the existing urban agglomeration, while encouraging migration to new urban satellites outside Cairo. Informal expansion of rural settlements, as well as ad hoc yet legal developments at the periphery of the city, have grown around the ring road escaping its control, and in some parts, closing in on it. By deinition, elevated roads are exclusive to vehicular use. his is not the case in Cairo. he irst of those elevated expressways was the 6th October Elevated Road, which was constructed in successive stages since 1969, with a total length of 15 km. hree additional elevated expressways were completed in the late 1990’s. he latest is due completion in 2009, and will tie the Ring Road to two districts in Giza (DRTPC, 2009). Despite this caroriented planning strategy, the habitual resourcefulness of the average Egyptian to satisfy his / her daily needs has led to an entirely diferent reality today. In light of the shortage in public transport, instead of segregating car owners from non-car owners as intended by this type of urban barrier, Cairene citizens have taken the Ring Road as an opportunity for communication; a channel rather than a barrier. Diverse age and gender groups climb up to the elevated highway by means of improvised solutions, such as community-built steps or ladders, carved openings in the concrete edge of the road and informal mass-transit stops; strategies neither supported nor provided by the government, but demarcated only through the practice of those who employ them. his erosion of an urban edge, this nibbling at a planned barrier, exempliies a form of resistance to the segregatorial norms of modernist urban planning that is recurrent in Cairo. Here, the interdependence of roles across diverse economic groups in daily life is relected in the city’s integrative spatial morphology. Acts of complete segregation are therefore oten overruled by behavior and socio-cultural norms. Some consider this chaotic; others a blessing that saves the city from sufering more inequalities in the name of development. references: ➳ http://www.ace.com.eg/transportation-cairoring-road.htm ➻ DRTPC (2009), “Research Study on the Urban Mobility in GC” Cairo University, Plan Blue. Mushrooming services along the Ring Road: a booth serving refreshments (photograph by Maha el-Serafy) Mushrooming services along the Ring Road: tire repair (photograph by: Maha el-Serafy)