Image source: Naseem Mohammed Bny Huthil, via REUTERS

In His Own Words: Qataris simply don’t walk, but this wasn’t always the case - Op-Ed on Qatar Foundation

March 31, 2021 by AbdulRahman Al-Mana

A city is so much more than a conglomeration of buildings and streets. They’re so much more than a skyline and impressive pieces of infrastructure. Cities are people. They are the families who live in cozy homes. It’s the old man who runs your neighborhood doobi – laundry. It’s the dukkan – grocery – you rode your bike to as a kid to buy snacks in the late afternoon. It’s the muezzin – the person who gives the call to prayer at a mosque – you’ve listened to for the last 20 years. We make up the buildings and institutions that make up our cities.

A neighborhood is a collection of people, a collection of memories, a space that changes and evolves constantly and rapidly yet always feels familiar. The built environment is so much more than just the physical structures we see – it is the people who build, inhabit, and bring them to life.

Famed American historian, sociologist, and urbanist Lewis Mumford once wrote: “Forget the damned motor car and build cities for lovers and friends.” This one angsty quote brings me so much joy. Not only does it reflect a sentiment that I strongly believe in – to build cities for people, but Mumford’s referral to pedestrians as “lovers and friends” humanizes how we think about the interaction between infrastructure and people.

This was an introduction to a piece I wrote for Qatar Foundation on the adverse effects of the automobile on the city. I write about the relationship between people, the city, and cars, the cost of the convenience of the cars, and the loss of culture in the urban fabric. You can continue reading the article by clicking this link: https://www.qf.org.qa/stories/in-his-own-words-qataris-simply-dont-walk-but-this-wasnt-always-the-case

You can also read the piece in Arabic: https://www.qf.org.qa/ar/stories/in-his-own-words-qataris-simply-dont-walk-but-this-wasnt-always-the-case

The Villa in a Khaleeji Context: The Role of Regulations in Erasing Indigenous Building Practices

February 02, 2021 by AbdulRahman Al-Mana

“A Qatari house in Al Dafna area” - Nayla Al-Naimi in The Morphology of Urban Qatar Homes — “A Qatari house in Al Dafna area” - Nayla Al-Naimi in *The Morphology of Urban Qatar Homes*

Megaprojects in the Khaleej, particularly in Qatar, focus on branding themselves with a ‘new architectural language’ that is uniquely Qatari, Khaleeji, Arabic, or Islamic. This is especially true with the urban revitalization project ‘Msheireb Downtown Doha’ where a new architectural language was one of its many pillars in creating a new identity for Doha based on ancient architectural practices. Other megaprojects in the city market themselves as showing a cultural flair as well, the architecture of the Al Bayt and Al Thumama Stadium, which are set to host the World Cup in 2022, were directly influenced by Qatari culture. Architects, designers, and government officials are keen on injecting cultural influences within the Qatari urban space whenever it is possible. However, the architecture of government-sponsored megaprojects only plays a small piece of the puzzle in the way architecture is experienced in the Qatari urban form. A quick look at a land-use map of Doha and its surrounding municipalities (or a satellite image for that matter) shows that the bulk majority of land use is predominantly low to low-medium density residential housing. This problem is not unique to Doha, the bulk majority of cities in the Khaleej are dominated by single-family houses and villas. The ‘villa’ is not native to the region, yet it dominates our cities. The word typically describes a large and luxurious country house, particularly in Continental Europe. Yet the villa has forced its way into our vernacular speech, as well as our cities. The injection of an architecturally foreign mode of living directly clashes with the direction that the government is steering towards. This begs a multitude of questions to be asked: How did we get here? What are the socio-cultural and environmental consequences of the villa in this context? Is there room to reappropriate the villa? And do zoning code and building regulations play a role in the way tastes are being shifted towards the villa?

Msheireb Downtown Doha

The Msheireb Downtown Doha project prides itself on merging modern and traditional architectural styles in its neighborhoods, and set out to create a modern architectural style that is uniquely Qatari

Like most things in the Khaleeji urban landscape, much of the shift in our housing patterns owes itself to modernization policies set forth by the British protectorate, as well as newfound wealth from oil. Prior to the mid-20th century, courtyard houses were the preferred mode of living for the vast majority of natives. Traditional courtyard houses were built on two key elements: materials that were readily available and the maintenance of privacy in the home. Houses often had multiple entrances, one for guests and one for its tenants. Houses were designed insularly, open spaces and yards were in the center of the house. The dwelling itself acted as a barrier for the yard. Allowing its tenants to exercise their daily lives with relative ease. As practitioners of Islam, privacy is a critical need for family living. Ensuring that there are spaces where the women of the family are comfortable and do not have to worry about the male gaze was of vast importance to the communities of this region. Additionally, people relied on natural ventilation through vernacular architecture to cool down their houses and the sun for natural lighting. This meant that the orientation of the building itself was important, ensuring that certain built elements can capture wind to cool down houses, as well as maximizing the amount of appropriate sunlight that was needed.

“Traditional stone-built houses in Najada” - Daniel Eddisford in Traditional Domestic Architecture of Qatar — “Traditional stone-built houses in Najada” - Daniel Eddisford in *Traditional Domestic Architecture of Qatar*

The British presence in the region had a significant impact on the urban form, the lack of formally educated natives to work as technicians and specialists in the oil sector meant that many British and American engineers had to be recruited to the region. Housing built for foreign engineers were naturally modeled after housing units they were most familiar with: the villa. Additionally, building regulations at the time were heavily modeled after British standards, as a result, our regulations accommodate a certain urban form much better than the native urban form. For many residents, the old urban form became a visual reminder of poverty. It carried a great sense of misery and anguish. Particularly during a time where the pearl diving industry was hit hard by the Great Depression, Japanese artificial pearls, and a reduction in yield from pearl banks, the sole lifeblood of the regional economy could not provide basic sustenance for Khaleejis. Consequently, eyes were turned to the villa, as a new and modern way of living. One which symbolized wealth, prosperity, and ultimately status. The villa would become a showpiece. Western-design influences were a sign of sophistication, privilege, and class. The view towards traditional houses was less than pleasant, tied to poverty. Increasingly, natives left the urban core where traditional courtyard houses were and moved to the suburbs with newly built villas. The traditional urban core was torn down in some instances, put in its place are commercial apartment buildings to house a new foreign working class. In other instances, traditional houses were crumbling due to their old materials and poor maintenance. You’d be hard-pressed to find any courtyard houses in the average suburb of Doha.

The shift towards the villa created a shift in the cultural definition of privacy in the Khaleeji housing unit. A single-family villa enclosed by four walls with a front yard and a backyard. Our definition of privacy changed from a communitarian one to a personal one. The courtyard house had many layers of privacy that could be peeled back, the home was designed in such a way to have designated spaces for guests that would transition into a private spot. Conversely, the villa was completely private. It did not allow for any manner of flexibility, and once you step out of the confines of the walls of your house you enter the public realm. This means a guest entering your house occupies a space that was designed to be completely private, whereas the courtyard house can protect your personal privacy while creating a space that exists between the public and private realms. Additionally, the villa does not make good use of private open spaces. As opposed to traditional courtyard houses, the yard of a villa is regulated to either the front or back of the house. Meaning that ancillary buildings that may be occupied by ‘strangers’ limit who can and can’t use these open spaces and during which times of the day. This issue does not exist in the courtyard house. Courtyard houses were built in a way to cool down open spaces either through wind elements or casting shade onto the yard. It is not always that a villa will cast a shade onto your yard. Moreover, the management of space, electricity, and water tends to be very poor in a villa. Yet, despite both the environmental and the sociocultural consequences of this housing unit it continues to dominate our urban fabric. This raises a concern for urbanists such as myself, do our building regulations promote this type of housing unit, without giving room for architects and designers to accommodate these social needs?

Looking at current regulations for R1 Zones in Doha, which is designated as low-density residential zones, the front setback for the average plot is set at 5 meters. The side setbacks are set at 1.5 meters without windows and 3 meters with windows and if the wall faces a street the side setback is also set at 3 meters. The back setback is also set at 3 meters. The build cover area is 60% and the floor to area ratio (FAR) is 1.65. I partnered up with Salman Al-Sulaiti, an old friend and a brilliant architect out of California Polytechnic State University to explore whether or not current building regulations allow courtyard houses to be built, and could it possibly explain the dominance of the ‘Villa’ in modern urban developments.

We adopt a ‘communitarian’ definition of privacy as within the context of local traditions and religious lifestyles of the Khaleej it is a critical step to understand the advantages courtyard homes have to regional living. Using a religious framework, we develop an accurate spatial definition of privacy. With this in mind, we define the range between the public and private realms through the level of comfort in which women can present themselves when choosing to wear a hijab or a niqab (face veil). In public spaces, where people are exposed to the foreign gaze, Muslim women will often choose to cover themselves by way of scarves and veils. The next layer we define is the semi-private spaces, which acts as a reception for guests. These spaces will often be a meeting point for female visitors and extended family members (excluding male in-laws). In these spaces, Muslim women do not have to uphold the expectations of covering themselves, but because of the accompaniment of guests, there is a certain expectation in presenting themselves. In private spaces; where you are only exposed to direct family members, there are no expectations for dress and they act as spaces where you can find absolute comfort.

Diagram courtesy of Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

Using this religious framework to apply a spatial definition of private and public realms, we analyze the differences between the different modes of living through the following renders and illustrations. We define the ‘public’ zone as any area which exposes the tenants to the foreign gaze. The ‘semi-private’ are zones within the house that are designed with guests in mind. While the ‘private’ zones are exclusive to the tenants of the house. We work with a 600 square meter plot in a typical R1 Zone you would find in Doha, outlined below. We hypothesize that the villa’s dominance in the Qatari urban landscape may not entirely be due to preference, but due to regulations. Setbacks in R1 zones require you to keep open spaces in front of the house, this forces developers to build into the villa-style to maximize the build area, otherwise, you waste space. In the first example, Salman provides us with a typical villa and mapping out the private, semi-private, and public spaces.

Model of a typical Qatari villa, Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

Diagram of spatial privacy in the villa, Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

We found that the villa lacks open spaces that are either semi-private or private, meaning that not all tenants of the house would be able to exercise absolute freedom within open spaces. This mode of living is not at all suitable for the cultural needs of the Qatari house. The front setback of the house forces developers and homeowners to take advantage of the front yard and make it into an open space to maximize their build area. We then tried to develop a courtyard house within the framework of existing regulations and setbacks.

A modern concept of the Qatari courtyard house under current regulations, Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

Spatial privacy of the Courtyard house under current regulations, Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

As illustrated by Salman, current regulations do not accommodate the courtyard house. While the total built area and the open space area are equal, you get a sliver of private and semi-private open spaces, at 31.5 and 46.5 meters squared respectively. Theoretically, you could increase the size of the courtyard, but it would come at the cost of your built area. This front setback makes it incredibly inefficient and impractical to build into the courtyard house style. Under proposed setbacks at the street level, while maintaining total build area. Not only do we allow the courtyard house to maximize the built area, but it also allows for private open spaces to flourish.

A modern concept of the Qatari courtyard house with proposed setbacks, Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

Spatial privacy of the Courtyard house with proposed setbacks, Salman Al-Sulaiti (2021).

Essentially, current regulations force homeowners and architects to build in the style of the villa. Regardless of whether or not it meets the cultural needs of our society. Designers and homeowners should have a choice in what style of living they want to adopt.

The zoning regulations in the Qatar National Master Plan outlines the idea that courtyard houses should have a separate setback, but looking at the existing framework and regulations that we build on, it has yet to be adopted. Through this exercise and experiment, I and Salman hope to illustrate how these regulations do not meet the cultural demands of Qatari society. Both the state and the people are very keen on preserving and in some cases, reviving the cultural traditions of our people. Whether it is through awareness of folkloric traditions, the sea shanties of pearl divers and merchants, and most certainly within the field of architecture. However, we should think beyond just preserving old buildings and architecture, and start thinking about reviving practices that allow us to live the way we want to. Through these diagrams and illustrations, we make the argument that it simply cannot be done now. If the concern that changing setback regulations would alter the environment and ruin the quiet suburban feel, we must remember that Khaleeji architecture, natively has always been low-density. Very rarely have buildings ever exceeded three stories, two-story houses were a rare sight too. Our indigenous urban environments have always had a certain quiet suburban field to them, and the form residences took best suited the needs of the people. Famed Qatari architect Ibrahim Jaidah writes in the opening pages of ‘The History of Qatari Architecture’:

“Architecture is not only related to buildings but represents the identity of peoples and civilizations... The qualities and features of architecture in the Islamic world set it apart from all other architecture Its most outstanding feature is the focus on interior spaces as opposed to on the outside or the facade.”

— Ibrahim Jaidah, Malika Bourennane in The History of Qatari Architecture (p. 11)

We are undeniably a Muslim nation, our national and cultural identity is integrally linked to our faith. Yet, our residences and architectural modes do not at all represent this identity, nor does it allow for our practices to flourish. The question asks itself then: why do we continue to embrace it? We have a responsibility, as designers, planners, and policymakers to consider these questions and tell ourselves: the choices that we make play an active role in what cultural practices die, and how foreign ones (which do not suit the cultural or physical environment) come to replace them. There is no denying that there are people out there who enjoy the facade and the lifestyle provided by the villa, but is that cost worth killing our own cultural identity over, and is it worth stopping a possible revival? Especially when laxing these regulations allows individuals to make these choices for themselves.

This article was written in collaboration with Qatari architect, Salman Al-Sulaiti. Please support him and follow him on Instagram: @sgalsulaiti

The Feasibility of Walkability in Extreme Heat

July 25, 2019 by AbdulRahman Al-Mana

Courtesy of Kammutty VP, The Peninsula Qatar

As a student of urban planning in Doha, the question I get asked the most by friends and family at home is: “How do we solve this traffic epidemic we have?” Doha, and by extension Qatar and its neighbors in the GCC, all suffer from the same issues in mobility perpetuated by their auto-centric design, inefficient public transportation modes, and a lack of pedestrian infrastructure. Gulf cities suffer from extreme automobile dependency, there are no alternative means of transportation or movement other than the private automobile. Walking is the forgotten mode of transportation in the Arabian Peninsula. Citizens are already paying the cost of these urban design policies and plans. Not only have the rate of car accidents and traffic increased during recent years compared to the past, but the population of the region has gotten unhealthier. In a 2012 report of the world’s heaviest nations, Kuwait was ranked as the world’s second-heaviest country, while Qatar, the UAE, and Bahrain ranked fourth, sixth and tenth place respectively. Automotive dependency has brought traffic and health consequences in the region.

Cities of the region have followed the American planning model, designed as pedestrian-unfriendly streets following a gridiron layout. The only spaces available to walk are malls, urban and national parks, and promenades. Public transportation in the region is also severely lacking, Riyadh for the longest time lacked a mass-transit system (specifically it's metro), while Dubai’s metro serves tourists primarily. The GCC is undertaking massive steps into becoming more walkable cities and have invested billions of dollars into their public transit infrastructure. The biggest hurdle for cities in the region to overcome is that of its extremely harsh hot climate, what are the current struggles facing cities of the region to become walkable, what strategies and projects are being implemented in an effort to become walkable, and how feasible are they, I.E. can people actually walk in this stupid unbearable heat?

A study published at the King Fahad University and the University of British Columbia assesses the travel conditions and accessibility of walking as well as the willingness to walk within the Doha & Dana districts of Dhahran in Saudi Arabia. The study surveyed 200 respondents on the preferred mode of transportation to carry out certain activities, such as grocery shopping, banking, going to school, etc. The investigation shows 42.5% of residents prefer walking, of which 91.5% typically walk up to 1 km daily. The remaining 8.5% walk between 1-2 km. GIS analysis shows that 77.4% of streets in the two districts have sidewalks or walking trails (82.9 km out of 107 km of street distance). Moreover, existing sidewalk conditions in Doha & Dana are poor, sidewalks are narrow, standing at less than a meter wide, often with street lamps, signage, or date and palm trees erected in the middle, further congesting the walking trails. The study also states that 24% of the sidewalks were seen to be occupied by parked vehicles of the surrounding residents. A further 21% of the sidewalks have permanent constructions including walking ramps and carports. The study found that 60% of the residents walk to their nearest facilities while around 65% walk for recreation and health benefits. Overwhelmingly, the study shows that the most cited reason for not walking is due to the weather, daily average temperatures within the region almost reach 50°C (122°F) with very high humidity levels during the summer, pedestrians surveyed within the study area predominantly walk during the winter season.

Bahrain has taken initiative to increase activity levels and walkability through built environment measures like the national network of public recreation areas, encompassing parks, walkways, and corniches. Outdoor walking facilities are built in new residential areas and are being developed in older residential quarters. Pursuing physical activity in Bahrain is limited by weather conditions like other nations within the region suffering from extreme heat. However, citizens can be found walking outdoors in purpose-built and vacant areas around sunrise and sunset, even during the hot season. This suggests that willingness to walk during the summer season should be a subject of further investigation. Responders of the previous study showed that weather was the biggest concern, but the case study of Bahrain suggests that given the proper infrastructure, citizens can make the choice to walk in that weather. While the weather is a factor in why people choose not to walk, a lack of proper infrastructure acts as a barrier that does not allow for walking.

An article published by Qatar University in the Case Studies on Transport Policy compares pedestrian behavior during the summer and winter seasons in the Al-Sadd district of Doha. Al-Sadd is one of Doha’s most popular and livable neighborhoods, it's also known for its mixed land uses and high density. Overall, almost double the people were observed walking during the winter season versus the summer season. It is worth noting, however, that the same number of pedestrians were observed during the weekend and weekdays during the summer season, while during the winter more people walked during the weekday. Observations in the study cite that more pedestrians were recorded holding bags during the winter season, showing that small trips for shopping on foot are more favorable during the winter. A separate study from Qatar University looks at the Al-Markhiya district in Doha. Al-Markhiya offered a great deal of potential to be a self-sustaining neighborhood in Doha, with commercial frontage on Khalifa Street. Khalifa Street connects the C-Ring and D-Ring roads, and congestion issues are quite prominent on this road as commuters use this arterial road to travel from Al-Dafna to Education City. However, due to a lack of land use management and sidewalk design, this community did not realize its potential. The streets of the district are designed for the automobile, and not for pedestrians. The scale is inappropriate for pedestrians, and there is a lack of shading and street furniture discourages walking as a mode of transport.

Abu Dhabi, like Riyadh, Baghdad, and Islamabad, feature large wide arterial roads connecting in a grid pattern to define a superblock. These superblocks were to be evenly spaced creating rectangular blocks of 900 by 600 meters. Each superblock was designed to be easily navigated through direct routes, and each would function as largely independent communities with facilities and services such as schools, mosques, and small commercial developments where you could fulfill your daily necessities. Fast non-local traffic was kept on arterial roads that defined the superblock, whereas inner roads were calm to ensure a safe and protected environment for pedesterians and slower local automobiles. While Abu Dhabi largely erased any trace of its historical organic settlement pattern for the superblock system, it adopted the system of sikkak (sing. sikka). Sikkak are a system of narrow alleyways connecting the main road or city center to the surrounding residential clusters, they are very common in Arab cities throughout history and today are most prominent in historic cores of Arab cities. In Abu Dhabi, sikkak work as pass-through spaces, connecting secluded spaces of an area. A study published by Masdar Institute shows that this system of sikkak contributes tremendously to the efficiency and directness of routes, encouraging walkability within these superblocks.

Figure on the left showing the components of the superblock. Figure on the right showing the aggregation of superblocks forming a large district/neighborhood. Courtesy of M. Scoppa et al.

A sikka in Souq Al-Wakra, Qatar. Courtesy of AbdulRahman Al-Mana, citiesofsalt.com.

A modern sikka in Abu Dhabi’s superblock. From the Abu Dhabi Urban Street Design Manual.

Additionally, using clever street orientation relative to the sun path, sikkak and streets can be used to create a pedestrian microclimate that would provide thermal comfort. Sikkak were designed with walls in mind to provide shade to pedestrians. Streets with a high aspect ratio (building height/street width), similar to older Arab city centers, provide a more comfortable microclimate. A study looking at thermal comfort and walkability in the Mega Kuningan Superblock in Jakarta concluded that in a hot-humid environment it is imperative that architects and city planners provide shade either from surrounding buildings or through trees. While the desert climate may discourage gardening and planting trees for shading, trees native to the Arabian Peninsula such as Samr; Sidr; Ghaf; Sind (Gum Arabic tree); Date Palms; and many more. These trees offer shade while still being able to live and prosper in the harsh desert climate.

Yes, the Arabian Peninsula is hot, unbearably hot, so hot that at times I question whether or not civilization belongs in this part of the world, but the fact of the matter is: people have lived in these areas for centuries under these difficult weather conditions. People of the peninsula relied on their feet to get around their cities and townships. Cities were dense, sikkak provided shading and additional spaces for walking, marketplaces provided shade for customers and passersby. People built malaqif (sing. Milqaf, windtowers) to cool their houses and mosques. Today, with science and technological advancements, using proper street orientation, a system of sikkak, and providing shading with trees native to the region, it is possible to repopulate our cities with pedestrians despite the heat. While the heat and weather certainly make walking less comfortable and less of an appealing option to navigate the city, the lack of infrastructure and pedestrian-oriented design bars people from walking in the city. Municipalities within the region need focus on planning at a microscale, focusing on small districts and neighborhoods, ensuring the scale of planning is that of the pedestrian such that a safe and comfortable environment can be ensured. The region is suffering from a health crisis. Obesity rates are at the highest they have historically been, cardiovascular diseases are on the rise, all of which is further stimulated by the unhealthy automobile-dependent lifestyle that the Khaleeji urban form has perpetuated. The world is suffering from an environmental crisis, countries of the GCC top the world’s lists in carbon footprint per capita, of which transportation by private automobile is one of its biggest contributors. Walking, along with public transit, should be as effective, if not more effective than the automobile if we want to make it a more competitive and attractive alternative option for transportation.

On a final note, it’s really only unbearably hot between May and September, while the weather is surprisingly nice for the rest of the year.

Additional Reading:

Harb, D F. “Walk-ability Potential in The Built Environment of Doha City,” n.d., 15.

Kamel, Mohamed Atef Elhamy. “Encouraging Walkability in GCC Cities: Smart Urban Solutions.” Smart and Sustainable Built Environment; Bingley 2, no. 3 (2013): 288–310. https://doi.org/10.1108/SASBE-03-2013-0015.

Koerniawan, Mochamad Donny, and Weijun Gao. “Thermal Comfort and Walkability In Open Spaces of Mega Kuningan Superblock in Jakarta.” In ResearchGate, Vol. 3. Venice, Italy, 2014. https://doi.org/10.13140/2.1.4388.5766.

Rahman, Muhammad Tauhidur, and Kh Md Nahiduzzaman. “Examining the Walking Accessibility, Willingness, and Travel Conditions of Residents in Saudi Cities.” International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 16, no. 4 (14 2019). https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph16040545.

Scoppa, Martin, Khawla Bawazir, and Khaled Alawadi. “Walking the Superblocks: Street Layout Efficiency and the Sikkak System in Abu Dhabi.” Sustainable Cities and Society 38 (April 1, 2018): 359–69. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.scs.2018.01.004.

Shaaban, Khaled, and Deepti Muley. “Investigation of Weather Impacts on Pedestrian Volumes.” Transportation Research Procedia, Transport Research Arena TRA2016, 14 (January 1, 2016): 115–22. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.trpro.2016.05.047.

Shaaban, Khaled, Deepti Muley, and Dina Elnashar. “Evaluating the Effect of Seasonal Variations on Walking Behaviour in a Hot Weather Country Using Logistic Regression.” International Journal of Urban Sciences 22, no. 3 (July 3, 2018): 382–91. https://doi.org/10.1080/12265934.2017.1403363.

Silva, Joao Pinelo, and Aamal Z. Akleh. “Investigating the Relationships between the Built Environment, the Climate, Walkability and Physical Activity in the Arabian Peninsula: The Case of Bahrain.” Edited by Silvio Caputo. Cogent Social Sciences 4, no. 1 (January 1, 2018): 1502907. https://doi.org/10.1080/23311886.2018.1502907.

Evaluating Urban Heritage In Doha

June 15, 2019 by AbdulRahman Al-Mana

Historic urban cores are the backbone of a city’s cultural identity. London; Rome; Istanbul; and Tokyo are all cities that have existed for centuries, and are places that have captured the eyes and hearts of the world. These cities all share something in the fact that they have a defined cultural identity that survived through the preservation and maintenance of the socio-cultural, environmental and economic characteristics of their built heritage. The preservation of built heritage represents a collection of ‘local memories’ that allows citizens to interact, share, and experience urban history as the city lives and breathes. In an age where cities all over the world compete to attract global markets, cultural heritage acts as a magnet for tourists and investors. It is no surprise then that there is a great deal of interest for cities that seek to penetrate the global stage such as Doha, to market themselves not only as new and cutting edge but as centers of culture and history.

Souq Waqif circa 1967. Taken from Anne Elliot’s Flickr page.

Jane Jacobs writes extensively in The Death and Life of Great American Cities on preservation issues and the need for old buildings: “Cities need old buildings so badly it is probably impossible for vigorous streets and districts to grow without them. By old buildings I mean not museum-piece old buildings, not old buildings in an excellent and expensive state of rehabilitation–although these make fine ingredients–but also a good lot of plain, ordinary, low-value old buildings, including some rundown old buildings”.

Doha in 1956