Saving more than just buildings

WHEN Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim announced that a whopping RM600mil had been allocated under Budget 2026 for the conservation and preservation of architectural heritage in Kuala Lumpur, some questioned the relevance of such an investment.

Many are asking whether such a large financial commitment can generate more ringgit and sen for Malaysia through tourism, building rentals, or similar avenues.

I believe, however, that we need to ask ourselves as a nation: What do we feel is deserving of a commitment of such magnitude, and what does it mean to us beyond the ringgit and sen?

The idea of preserving architectural heritage comes largely from Western education, particularly from British mores.

Some of our children have been taught that Britain is filled with historic buildings and landscapes untouched by industry.

But if these students ventured into Europe, they would witness conserved buildings and landscapes that have become lucrative sources of income in terms of tourist dollars, euros and francs.

Once, countries like Norway, Sweden and Iceland wondered what to do with all their mountainous and barren landscapes that couldn’t even grow anything.

But now the spirit of adventure, the concept of spiritual walks, and the need for mental health retreats are the order of the day following the rediscovery of how the majesty of nature can heal the soul – and those barren landscapes are now adding to their countries’ coffers.

But what of buildings?

Why preserve a building when you could plonk down a 500-unit condominium and earn billions?

We must ask ourselves who we are as a nation and what reminders we have of our nationhood.

Yes, efforts are made to preserve certain building typologies, like warehouses or godowns (gudang in Malay), military barracks, and administrative residences, while others are preserved for a certain architectural expression in ornaments and spaces of note from the ways and cultures of the past, such as the Baba-Nyonya townhouses in Melaka.

But buildings are about more than just their novelty and romantic sentiments about aesthetics.

Celebrating history: A filepic of Carcosa Seri Negara, a prime example of how thoughtful conservation can transform historic heritage spaces into meaningful visitor experiences.

The Carcosa Seri Negara in Kuala Lumpur, for instance, is not just a structure reflective of a colonial architectural style of its era. It is a building that was ­witness to the signing of the agreement that created the Federation of Malaya, the first step in the journey towards independence for Malaya.

For me, the importance of the building lies in the memories it holds of leaders of different races huddled together in serious and sometimes heated discussions about what to compromise on, what to sacrifice, and what to hold ground on so that we could become an independent family in charge of our own fate.

Within that colonial piece of architecture, our forefathers set down the principles and values that would make us who we are as a nation.

I find that in today’s political discussions, many have forgotten those tireless hours of arguments, about giving up positions and forging a mutual understanding of how we all stand – not just as Malays, Indians, Chinese, Orang Asli and more, but also as citizens of what would become Malaysia in 1963.

I hope that a small part of the RM600mil could be used also to set up an institute or a body housed in the Carcosa to educate our children, young adults – and politicians especially – on what each community had to give up to secure an understanding of mutual respect, hope and harmony.

I also think the preservation of heritage buildings surrounding KL’s Dataran Merdeka is testimony to our acknowledgement that a colonising power did, in the end, set an example for how we could govern a new nation.

The conservation of these buildings is not just an exercise in city planning and regulations; we need to preserve them because they are a reminder that we Malaysians come not only from our own diverse heritage, originating in Java, China, India and other places, but also from Western ideas about justice and human dignity.

Our acceptance of many legal and constitutional positions is a testimony to the global mindset of our leaders back then: they saw greatness and justice in the laws of many foreign nations and had the ability to be forward-thinking enough to accept some of it into our way of life.

Presently, our country and our idea of nationhood are being threatened by people keen on redefining the country in an extremist manner by using race and religion antagonistically and with opportunistic interpretations of history.

Investing RM600mil in preserving built heritage may or may not produce a huge financial return on investment in the accounting books; however, I see this investment as being spiritual in nature.

The soul of the nation lies in the values inherent and unspoken in the Constitution, as well as in the history of discussions, some within the walls of the Carcosa, that came up with them.

Condos and malls might provide a return on investment 10 times over, but that is insignificant compared with the loss of our conscience and identity as a nation if we lose such heritage.

The spirit of this nation is embedded within the walls of structures from the past.

Buildings like the Carcosa are not tombstones but milestones denoting where we came from and signposts to where we could and should go: a future where we are a confident, open and inclusive people standing tall in the global arena.

Prof Dr Mohd Tajuddin Mohd Rasdi is Professor of Architecture at the Tan Sri Omar Centre for Science, Technology and Innovation Policy Studies at UCSI University.

The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.