Holding up an architectural mirror

On National Day today, our columnist examines and compares the styles of key public buildings as parallels of this nation’s evolution since gaining independence.

AS today is National Day, I would like to take stock of where we once were and where we are now as a nation.

I will use the architecture of four buildings to show how far we have progressed in the narrative of who we are or who we are supposed to be.

For the early days of the independence of Tanah Melayu in 1957 and the formation of Malaysia in 1963, I will use Parliament House and Masjid Negara as two case studies for this social and political discourse. As representatives of the current “spirit of nationalism”, I will use the Perdana Putra building that houses the Prime Minister’s Office in Putrajaya and Masjid Wilayah in Kuala Lumpur as my two comparative case studies.

Firstly, a comparison of two structures in which government business is conducted: Parliament House in Kuala Lumpur and Perdana Putra in Putrajaya.

To me, Parliament House presents architecture that represents democracy, public accountability and openness to ideas for public discourse.

Perdana Putra’s architecture, however, represents authoritarianism, public non-accountability and exclusion of public discourse to me.

Here is why I think this: Parliament House represents democracy to me because it does not have any direct ethnocentric reference in its architecture.

Although some have suggested that the pitched roof of the Dewan Rakyat may refer to the bumbung Melaka or bumbung Melayu styles (roofs with steep pitches) or even the traditional Malay tengkolok (headgear), the image remains elusive within the modernist structural expressions of folded plate structure, usually meant to present a progressive and technological-oriented image.

Perdana Putra, however, is a clear reference to Malay-Muslim architecture, with the bulbous main dome reminiscent of the mosque architecture of India.

However, some argue that the dome need not be a reference to mosques alone as the colonial-era railway station in KL is full of these little “onions”.

But many critics, academics, architects and historians have identified that style as the “architecture of the British Raj”.

It was used to appease Malay royalty while the colonialists took over the country’s economy.

Whatever the reference of the domes, they represent Muslim and colonial power of administration. Both of these aspects spell the idea of authoritarianism rather than democracy. The ethnocentric language and the monumental massing of the building recalls the neoclassical architecture of public administration buildings as can be seen in Taiping, Perak, and in George Town.

The language of public accountability is present in Parliament House as the tower block has glass windows recessed behind a sun shading curtain that is hung to the floor plates. Perdana Putra’s windows are not recessed and do not display any effort to follow the idea of tropical architecture at all.

This, I believe, shows that our past administrations were conscious of expenditure when using public funds while the present ones are rather too free with the people’s money, using it with little or no rationale.

Thus, the many corruption scandals we are currently mired in are explained by this simple architectural narrative.

Finally, an openness to public discourse is shown clearly in the planning of Parliament House with its large public square that signifies the idea of the people meeting their elected representatives.

Perdana Putra does not have a public square that is accessible and instead concentrates on the idea of a “palace in a garden landscape” concept.

In other words, once our public discourse was open and vibrant but now it is stifled by many “insult to race or insult to religion or insult to the PM” police reports.

Now we can’t even joke about our own race ourselves.

In terms of social inclusiveness, Masjid Negara and Masjid Wilayah display two different characters. Masjid Negara has a large open plan with generous serambi (verandah) spaces with pools of water and approaches that invite the traveller and the weary urban dweller in.

Although the present administrators of the mosque are extremely strict about Muslim and non-Muslim attire and presence, I believe the original intent was that the mosque would be an oasis within busy KL for all Malaysians. The language of Masjid Negara is of a tropical style that has a low, sweeping mass projecting an informal, laidback architecture of human scale and interactivity, with breezes blowing across the generous serambi space.

Masjid Wilayah, on the other hand, was built in a monumental, single-mass style referencing Ottoman Islamic grandeur. The mosque also has an enclosed private garden as well as closed off windows and entrances. The whole structure projects a heavy, fortress-like ambiance that is far different from the light, airy and welcoming openness of Masjid Negara.

To me, the architecture of the two mosques presents an Islam of the past that was open, inclusive and not afraid to be unprecedented and non-traditional in outlook and expression, and a current Islamic conservatism that is exclusive and frightened of its own shadow all the time. The Wilayah Mosque also appears dogmatic with its roots in traditional Islam and seems unprepared to face a changing future.

How far have we come as a nation? Or have we regressed? From an open, easygoing society, in which people lived and ate together and welcomed progressive ideas and ideals, we have fallen into dogma, unfettered traditional thinking and an exclusiveness that will destroy any attempts to create harmony between communities.

Politicians can lie but architecture never does.

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.