The Oscar-winning movie The Brutalist has brought Brutalism back in general conversation. Brutalism does not mean cruel; the name comes from the French word brut, which means raw.
Brutalist architecture became popular in the 1950s and 60s. The buildings are defined by raw concrete, sharp geometric shapes and lines, and exposure of the innards of the building to the outside.
The main philosophy behind the style is that buildings should be inside-out, making the people aware of how buildings are made and how they function. Even ducts and pipes are often outside rather than hidden within the walls.
It is a rejection of the decorative, ornamental outside that is the hallmark of classical buildings. The proponents of Brutalism felt that the horrors of World War II exposed the darkness and coldness of human nature and society, and were against hiding that behind an ornamental façade. Instead, they urge people to contemplate the socio-political context of the time from inside and look outside to nature for possibilities of growth.
Brutalist Bengali traditions?
When people in Dhaka read about these descriptions of massive, raw, exposed concrete, sharp geometric shapes, and an exposed, inside-out building, a specific structure immediately floats to mind. The Shangshad Bhaban.
Although the parliament building and its famous architect, Louis Kahn, are not neatly categorized under Brutalism, there is no denying that the structure prominently demonstrates the salient features of the style.
Louis Kahn himself said that the building's geometrical shape blends abstracted forms found in traditional Bengali architecture and modernism. He also wanted to emphasize the role of natural light, air circulation, and surrounding water in the design.
Whenever I gaze upon the Shangshad Bhaban, the structure seems very awe-inspiring, but also neither traditional nor inviting. It almost looks like a grey, concrete citadel, right in the middle of the city.
In fact, the structure seems a bit alien in the Bengali landscape. Sharp geometric shapes or rough surfaces do not characterize our traditional architecture. Mosques, temples, forts, palaces, mausoleums, all surviving historical structures are defined by rounded shapes, curves, plastering of surfaces, intricate surface designs, frills, etc. Traditional building colours in our green landscape are earthen red and white, not grey.
While our lands have not lacked human misery in its history, we have not witnessed an industrial holocaust here. Did we really need a Brutalist monument to be our house of democracy?
Structural influence
The structure doesn’t look very warm and inviting for a people’s parliament from outside or inside. I have been to many parliaments and capital buildings in countries, provinces, and states. Almost all of them are very traditional and inviting to politicians and people. They seem to be places for staying around for long hours, developing relationships, and reaching across the political divides.
The Shangshad Bhaban used to be like this during the 1980s and 1990s. In the early morning, thousands of people from the surrounding residential areas would come right up to the large northern and southern terrace areas
If, as studies have shown many times, the structure and environment of public buildings significantly affect the psychology of inhabitants, what kind of influence has our Shangshad Bhaban exerted on our national politics?
To find assurance that I am not alone in having such thoughts, I read up a little bit on the architecture of the building. I found that doubts about the effectiveness of Louis Kahn’s design are not hard to find.
A US architecture professor and distinguished designer, who visited Dhaka in 2023, wrote about this in an article titled, The Empty Revelation. While acknowledging that the building is truly the masterpiece of Louis Kahn, one of the premier architects of the 20th century, the author spared no words in excoriating the design and the established security zone for failing to uphold the central goal of modernist architecture, forms follow functionality, which in this case is deliberative democracy.
In his words, “The Jatiya Shangshad Bhaban is a huge shell echoing in emptiness as it sits forlorn behind security fences. It is an alien fortress of foreign forms gesticulating over grand amounts of space and signifying nothing.” There is more to follow in a similar vein.
What is done is done. We cannot remake the Shangshad Bhaban. After all, it is regarded as a 20th-century architectural masterpiece and the proud centerpiece of the nation.
A public space, again
However, we can make it a people’s place again without compromising on the design, lifting the forbidden zone atmosphere currently enveloping the area.
In nearly all democracies, the areas around the parliament building are public areas. Citizens and tourists gather and mill around these areas all the time during open hours. Even protest demonstrations and temporary stalls are allowed to be set up there.
Generally, the parliament building is one of the main tourist attractions of the capital city, and people are even allowed inside with the purchase of tickets. This is natural for a people’s parliament.
The Shangshad Bhaban used to be like this during the 1980s and 1990s. In the early morning, thousands of people from the surrounding residential areas would come right up to the large northern and southern terrace areas adjacent to the main buildings for exercise, calisthenics, etc. In the evening, the southern terrace and the stairs had thousands of people thronging to enjoy the cool air. There were even small political groups making speeches in different places. People would sit in circles on the vast lawn.
Then came post 9/11 world and security paranoia. The terraces were closed off to the public. When Hasina took up residence again in Ganabhaban in 2009 again, she made the entire Shangshad complex a forbidden city with fences going around all four sides and hundreds of police and paramilitary intimidating the public. There was no justification for this.
Parliament is the people’s building, and people must feel that the building and its proceedings are working for them.
We need to immediately re-open the Shangshad Bhaban to the people. If this requires 50 additional security people and groundskeepers to keep the place tidy, that is a cost worth paying for returning this iconic masterpiece to its owners -- the citizens of Bangladesh.
Shafiqur Rahman is a political scientist.
