When heritage is vulnerable to politics

Cities are not merely collections of roads, buildings, parks, and public spaces. They are repositories of memory. Every monument, public park, historic building, and civic space embodies stories that connect generations. Yet these same places have increasingly become vulnerable to politics, the tendency for every administration to leave its own physical imprint on the city.

Across many local governments, projects are justified under the language of beautification, modernization, rehabilitation, or improvement. These objectives are not inherently objectionable. Public infrastructure requires maintenance. Historic buildings occasionally demand structural interventions to ensure public safety. Parks must remain accessible and functional. Conservation has never meant freezing places in time.

The problem arises when improvement becomes perpetual reinvention.

Barely has one redevelopment project been completed before another proposal for redesign emerges. Landscapes are reconfigured, architectural elements replaced, public spaces reconstructed, and historical structures altered according to a new vision of development. While each project may individually satisfy administrative procedures and procurement requirements, collectively they reveal a more fundamental question: Should the physical character of historically significant places change every time political leadership changes?

Baguio City provides a useful illustration of this governance dilemma. Burnham Park, arguably the city’s most recognizable public space, has undergone various rehabilitation and improvement initiatives over the years. Many of these interventions have been supported by legitimate technical considerations—from improving pedestrian circulation and upgrading landscape features to enhancing lake quality and visitor safety. Urban parks, after all, require regular maintenance and periodic rehabilitation.

Similar concerns may likewise be raised regarding other prominent civic spaces in Baguio City. The renovation of Sunshine Park, the ongoing rehabilitation of the Maharlika Livelihood Complex, redevelopment initiatives for the City Market, and another call for the rehabilitation of the Baguio Convention and Cultural Center (which was recently rehabilitated) all reflect the city’s continuing pursuit of modernization.

Yet these individually reasonable interventions also invite a broader question. At what point does a series of incremental modifications evolve into a continuous process of redesign? The concern is not that improvements are unnecessary, but that historically significant public spaces may become perpetual projects whose physical identity changes according to shifting administrative priorities rather than enduring heritage principles.

Heritage conservation does not prohibit change. International conservation practice recognizes that historic places must adapt to contemporary needs.

However, there is an important distinction between necessary conservation and continuous redesign. The former seeks to preserve significance while addressing present-day needs. The latter risks replacing inherited character with the preferences of successive administrations. Conservation asks how a place may continue telling its historical story. Reinvention asks how a place can better reflect the priorities of the present.

This distinction is particularly important because heritage belongs not to any single administration but to the public across generations. Elected officials serve fixed terms. Heritage survives far beyond electoral cycles. Public spaces that embody a city’s collective memory should therefore be guided by enduring conservation policies rather than changing political preferences.

Repeated redevelopment also raises legitimate questions regarding limited financial resources. Even when projects are lawfully undertaken, citizens are justified in asking whether continual reconstruction represents the most prudent use of public funds.

Ultimately, the issue is not whether development should occur. Cities must continue to evolve. The issue is whether change is guided by evidence, conservation principles, public participation, and long-term stewardship—or by the understandable desire of every administration to leave a visible legacy.

A city’s identity should not be rewritten every election cycle. The challenge for local governments is to ensure that improvement strengthens historical continuity rather than replacing it.

Perhaps the more important question is not how we can redesign our heritage, but how faithfully we can preserve the stories these places continue to tell. For once those stories are gradually erased through successive acts of “improvement,” they cannot simply be reconstructed. They become another part of the history we failed to conserve. As Henri Lefebvre writes, “The users’ space is lived—not represented or conceived.”

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Kurt Zeus L. Dizon is an assistant professor at Saint Louis University, Baguio City.