Peace ‘at Last Sight’: The Other Face of ‘Warchitecture’

Abstract

The first part of the title of this article purposefully recalls Walter Benjamin’s interpretation of ‘love at last sight’ in connection with Charles Baudelaire’s famous poem entitled ‘To a Passerby’ in his famous book ‘The Flowers of Evil’. The poem was written about a lost chance of love. Within the title of this article it is used in relation to the concept of peace. The other part of the title contains Andrew Herscher’s concept of ‘warchitecture’, which is used to describe destroyed or semi destroyed pieces of architecture in political conflict zones. The paper intendeds to represent another face of warchitecture, which has nothing to do with physical destruction. By making value judgements regarding examples of architectural aesthetics, which exist within a long-term conflict zone—Jerusalem; Mosche Safdie’s David Village and Santiago Calatrava’s Bridge of Strings will be discussed. Peacefully they may stand in their appearance, they express a ‘nonbeing peace’ when analyzed in relation to their context. Accordingly, this paper questions both buildings’ attempts to peace and harmony when discrimination is taking place against Palestinians in Jerusalem. By articulating the relationship between the representation of ‘nonbeing’ and the destruction of buildings’ ‘warchitecture’ during wars, the paper shows that neglect can be another tool of destruction towards Palestinians and their culture.

1. Introduction

The ever-increasing numbers of the poor in metropolis, who are being mobilized from their homeland because of wars or civil wars, discriminated against within an informal world of settlements and jobs, expect ‘peace’ to have a chance to change something about their lives. They want to exist in the same domain as the formalized world in order to have the opportunity to struggle for themselves [1].

There are considerable differences between the wars of the past and contemporary wars. Although the difference between war and peace has been reduced, the politics of war is based on the inexistent contradiction between war and peace. War, for instance according to Mark Neucleous, is defined as the existence of life-threatening political conditions. On the other hand, peace is not defined by the lack of struggle [2].

Since contemporary wars, and especially civil wars, mobilize people and establish who will be discriminated against in the future, the issue of achieving and sustaining peace can only be based on continuous change, and this means that peace cannot be as comfortable as the Heaven that is imagined. The elimination of discrimination and racism demands continuous struggle and change, which will reduce the stability of powerful social groups. We see peace as a struggle between different social groups within a political context, which is open to continuous change. Discourses on the issue of peace affect architecture, and especially architectural aesthetics, more than any other profession.

The destruction of architecture during wars is a man-made destruction of buildings through meticulous rational, symbolic, physical, and violent calculations. Robert Bevan, for instance, describes how culturally significant buildings were destroyed during recent wars [3]. Eyal Weizman describes the destruction of buildings during war for other reasons, such as a guarantee for the safe movement of the armies [4].

On the other hand, there are contradictory beliefs about the peacefulness of aesthetics including architectural aesthetics. The first of these is expressed in the words ‘there is no beauty without blood’. Although this belief relates all arts to the death instinct and anxiety, (see References [5,6] pp. 132–139), its relationship with the production of ‘symbolic capital’ [7] and the ‘culture industry’ [8] brings architecture particularly to mind because of its relationship with the building sector and its well-known connections with upper-class society. This belief brings the thought that if there were no poverty and wars, there would be no beauty in this world and everybody would live a cruel but safe life. Thus, beauty is needed to differentiate affluent people from the poor and symbols of this are especially needed in order to create fear and respect in others.

The position taken by architects in respect of the issues of poverty and wars is quite frequently questioned with regard to the issue of political ethics. On the other hand, many architects silently believe that, wherever and at whatever cost, architectural aesthetics always contribute to world peace. This second belief, which contradicts the first one, can also be seen as an ideological defense mechanism of architects. The best evidence to support this belief is the decrease in vandalism in well-designed environments.

Both of these beliefs are falsified by Theodor. W. Adorno’s famous dictum: ‘To write poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric’ [9]. Adorno meant that until human culture, which created Auschwitz, is changed, all arts (and especially poetry), which are parts of this culture, should be seen as barbaric [10]. Adorno would have given no value to the first belief about architectural aesthetics. On the other hand, he would have questioned the second one by posing the question: ‘what has changed since Auschwitz?’

Accordingly, the aim of this article is to discuss these contradictory beliefs by making value judgments regarding examples of architecture that exist within a long-term conflict zone—Jerusalem. Jerusalem is a city that suffered from wars and continues to suffer from a political conflict between Palestinians and Israelis since 1948. Although both ethnicities live together in a physically unified city after 1967, Palestinians in the East and Israelis in the West, clear differences in living conditions between both sides can be depicted through architecture. Given the long reverberations of the conflict in Jerusalem, many may expect to see images of destruction reminiscent of wars; however, on the contrary, meticulous buildings with attention to aesthetics are emerging in the city. As part of the municipality’s agenda, which collects taxes from all residents, it serves one part on the account of the other. More efforts have been put recently to build public buildings in the West–Israeli part of the city as part of urban-renewal projects, especially around the Old City. Although it is not stated that these structures are solely built for the use of Israelis, they are located in the West and they improve Israeli neighborhoods. Among these examples, two buildings that address issues related to peaceful living in the opinion of their architects are discussed: Bridge of Strings designed by Santiago Calatrava, and David Village, designed by Moshe Safdie.

Differences in the living conditions at both sides of the city is attained through meticulous strategies, agendas, laws, and urban planning. Yet, based on observations of the social and political context in Jerusalem from an architectural perspective, this paper questions if there really is peace in Jerusalem, and if the Bridge of Strings and David Village can contribute to peace with the existence of discrimination against Palestinians within their physical space. These questions will be addressed by observing the physical as well as the social and political context in Jerusalem.

Hence, the article has two interrelated objectives: The first objective is to represent a value judgment to the two buildings. Both buildings claim peace and continuity by the authorities and by the architects. However, this article intends to show that these buildings are not perceived as peaceful and show no continuity with the conflicted context. The building technology utilized in both buildings is performative. They are clad with stone to look contextually appropriate to the physical environment, whilst little construction is allowed in the East. Yet, both buildings ignore the complex political situation and continuous discrimination against Palestinians.

The second objective is to contribute further into ‘warchitecture theory’ by showing another face of destruction, where neglect can be a tool towards the destruction of buildings and culture. It shows that both buildings express ‘nonbeing peace’ when analyzed in relation to their context that shows discrimination against Palestinians.

The paper comprises six parts. Following the introduction, the concept of nonbeing is presented in the second part in relation to the case of Jerusalem. The third part lengthily presents the political situation in Jerusalem from architectural and urban-planning perspectives. Similarly, the fourth and fifth parts discuss the two selected buildings’ aesthetics in relation to the political situation in the city. Followed by the discussion part, entitled ‘On the expression of nonbeing in architecture, the other face of warchitecture’, the article relates both buildings’ attempts to peace and harmony in relation to ‘warchitecture’ theory. In conclusion, the paper finds that, by ignoring discrimination in everyday life, a piece of architecture can offer a false attempt to peace even with intentions of continuity and harmony in appearances.

2. Peace as Nonbeing in Jerusalem

What does the concept of ‘nonbeing’ actually mean to people? How does it affect people? Only after answering these questions, can it become possible to truly evaluate the expression: ‘peace as nonbeing’ in Jerusalem.

According to Alain Badiou, there are three types of nonbeing in people’s lives. These are love, art, and science [6] (pp. 304–332), [11] (pp. 1–40). According to him, the concept of nonbeing offers the only chance for people to create changes. Badiou defines love as the main medium through which ‘subjects’ may change themselves. On the other hand, art demands originality and novelty. It is a change itself and, since it represents the transcendental (by being new and different) and ontological existence (by being related) simultaneously, it can affect further change. It is a call for people to change their lives. Badiou also relates a scientific work to nonbeing, if the contribution it makes to its field can cause radical changes in that field. In the terms of Thomas Kuhn, this cannot be an ‘evolutionary’ approach to science, but rather a ‘revolutionary’ approach [12]. Badiou relates politics to ethics by relating nonbeing to change. According to Badiou, change is both political and ethical [13].

People can follow the concept of nonbeing until their death. There are people who have died for the promise of love. Some artists and scientists died for their art or science. Millions of people have died in the name of their religious beliefs or nationalities. Any expression of nonbeing also touches the hearts of people. This is why people get interested in real love stories, explanations about what an artist was trying to achieve in their work, and the life stories of important scientists. These stories and explanations affect their innocent feelings.

Thus, when we talk about expressions of nonbeing, especially the nonbeing of peace, we are not only talking about a simple wish for peace to exist. Such expressions play with the innocent feelings of people, because living in peace is important for everybody, especially if peace is not present.

Accordingly, one can question if architectural aesthetics can be peaceful within a war zone where people are discriminated against. Or do these pieces of architecture form the other face of warchitecture?

‘Warchitecture’ is a theory that relates war and architecture. It was introduced by Andrew Herscher to describe catastrophic physical destruction to architectural pieces of cities at war [14]. His reflection emerges with images of the destroyed buildings of Sarajevo during the 1992–1996 siege and explains how architectural pieces lose their autonomy after being destroyed by wars. Herscher’s theory of warchitecture questions whether architectural works can maintain their autonomy when they are deliberately subjected to destruction during war, because they are a key part of the identity of a people or a community. To Herscher, there is a need to distinguish between the irrational/rational and unintentional/intentional destruction of cultural artefacts/architecture, which is mostly ‘barbaric and senseless’ [14] (p. 39).

Understanding wartime-destruction ‘warchitecture’ or lack of it allows for value judgments about the peacefulness of pieces of architecture in Jerusalem based on the following two criteria: [11] (pp. 109–140, 331–344):

• The appearance of the piece of architecture should be strikingly different in order to transcend itself. This is seen as a general quality of contemporary architecture.
• The piece of architecture should also demonstrate continuity with its physical, human, and political environment in order to have an ontological relationship with its context.

Although it is reminiscent of the phenomenology of Charles Peirce [15], this approach differs from it, in that Peirce’s phenomenology is based only on questioning the truth behind the differences in appearance. In other words, it is now not sufficient for us to have a real difference, initially visible by the appearance of the object. We also need to examine and understand its connections with its physical and psychological environment.

Based on the two criteria above, examples of architectural aesthetics, which are strikingly different in their appearance, were identified by walking around Jerusalem’s Old City, and by observing and exploring the contemporary architecture in the area. Although there are many striking examples, we selected the ones that offered a discourse about peace or harmony. These examples are Mosche Safdie’s David Village, which demonstrates a discourse related to harmony, and Santiago Calatrava’s Bridge of Strings, which represents a discourse of peace.

In order to discuss the relationship between architecture and its political and social context in Jerusalem, the following methods have been done:

• Observation of the studied buildings within their context.
• Data from architects’ websites and speeches related to their buildings were collected and analyzed.
• Other academic writings, documentation, and official reports about the political situation in Jerusalem were used to show the living conditions in Jerusalem.
• Some Palestinian lawyers were interviewed to explain the meaning of the impact of laws on the living conditions of people.
• The inability to interview and enquire the opinions of Israelis and Palestinians about the buildings due to the political situation oriented the research towards reading Israeli newspapers. Two newspapers published in Israel have been searched, Haaretz and The Jerusalem Post. Both published articles in English related to the Bridge of Strings since the announcement of its construction to the public in 2004 until this day. Analysis of all texts helped to reach people’s opinion about the bridge. The opinions were cited and used in the discussion.

Yet, to elaborate on the discussion related to architecture and political ethics, a handful of sources of texts and theories were studied and utilized throughout the study. The theory of ‘warchitecture’ developed by Andrew Herscher was mainly studied. Other thinkers, like Theodor Adorno and Alain Badiou, were utilized to explain the understanding of peace as nonbeing in relation to discussions of political ethics and wars.

An investigation into the transcendental and ontological characteristics of the two studied buildings revealed that the expression of peace or harmony within conflict zones actually intends to express something which does not exist; the expression of nonbeing.

3. Jerusalem’s Conflict and Architecture

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict over Jerusalem dates back to the year 1948, when Israel declared its establishment just after the end of British Mandate rule in Palestine. Palestine was divided into two parts: The West Bank and East Jerusalem were held by the Jordanians, and the rest was held by Israel except for Gaza, which came under Egyptian rule. As a result, refugees fled to settle in refugee camps such as in Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria, waiting to return. They are, as of today, still waiting.

The Old City of Jerusalem under the Jordanian Rule, including its different quarters, was on the dividing line between the two states, separated with barbed wire, mine fields, and military posts around what was known as the ‘green line’. In 1967, the Syrians, Jordanians, and Egyptians lost Jerusalem against Israel after the Six-Day War. Jerusalem, which came under the rule of Israel, was physically united and its Palestinian citizens inhabiting the east part of the city became residents of Israel. To this day, Palestinians are regarded as ‘permanent residents’, which allow them limited rights in the city, like not being allowed to take part in governmental and constitutional voting and election processes. In other words, similar to Palestinian refugees in various Arabic countries, Jerusalem’s Palestinians became refugees in their own home. As a result, Israeli official authorities are mostly seen as illegitimate, and a vacuum in official leadership is left in the Palestinian society. In such cases, communal leadership and civic-society organizations tend to fill the vacuum and manage the social space [16].

In 1967, the total area annexed by Israel was 70 square kilometers of the West Bank joined to the municipal boundaries of West Jerusalem, declaring ‘Jerusalem unification’ and imposing new laws (Figure 1). Since then, many settler colonial strategies were performed to limit the Palestinian demographic presence in order to increase the Israeli presence and population in the city. By imposing several laws and strategies, Israel aimed at preventing the Arabic population from exceeding one-third of the total population. That was to limit Palestinian growth to 27% of the total population [17,18]. Other strategies were also imposed, for instance the 2003 decision by the Israeli Parliament (referred to as Knesset), which was introduced by the Ministry of Interior, not allowing for married Palestinian couples to live within Israel if one of the spouses holds an Israeli citizenship or a permanent Israeli residence and is married to a Palestinian from the West Bank [19]. Another strategy allows for property revocation in East Jerusalem of originally Palestinians owners living in the West Bank or Gaza for the use of the state under the ‘Absentee Property Law’; the law was ruled as legal in 2015 by the Israeli High Court of Justice [19].

As a result, architecture is involved with the conflict, and, as the conflict in Jerusalem is over territories, sovereignty, and land claims, architecture is present to enforce such claims. Architecture in Jerusalem is a tool of power; it divides, controls, and imposes new facts and realities. Israeli settlements are built on confiscated lands from Palestinian neighborhoods and towns. Together with the dividing concrete wall built after 2000, they separate Palestinians in Jerusalem from the West Bank.

From an architectural perspective, the settler colonial system used by Israel through urban planning adopts strategies that leads to discriminate against Palestinians and restrict their ability to build. However, it favors Jewish Israelis in matters of housing construction, provision of urban services, and economic development [17,18].

Palestinian Jerusalemites are forced to stay within defined boundaries in Jerusalem. The boundaries are imposed by the Municipality and enforced by the Ministry of Interior through laws that threaten Palestinians of losing residency rights and entry to the city once proven to live outside these boundaries enforced through the ‘center of life policy’. The law of ‘center of life policy’ is a strategy that was meant to reduce the number of Palestinians living in East Jerusalem. In December 1995, the Israeli Ministry of Interior defined the new municipal boarders of Jerusalem, and after the Second Intifada (Uprising) in 2002 it surrounded it with a separation wall that divides Jerusalem from the West Bank. It was followed by a policy that applied to Palestinian Jerusalemites only; those who were granted Israeli permanent residency after 1967 were required to continuously prove their residency within the defined borders by providing documentary evidence like tax, medication, electricity, and water receipts. If anybody failed to provide proof, then residency rights were at risk of being revoked [20].

Israel’s restrictive urban policy has also had a detrimental effect on the living conditions in East Jerusalem. From the annexed 70 square kilometers, 35% was confiscated for the construction of Israeli-only settlement colonies in East Jerusalem, and the Palestinian population was left to live in only 13% of their annexed territory. In Israeli urban plans, built-up Palestinian areas were surrounded by large belts of ‘open public spaces’ that prevent Palestinian urban expansion. These territorial belts prohibit any construction and they comprise 22% of the annexed area. The remaining 33% are left as ‘unplanned’; they surround the Israeli colonial settlements and serve as territorial reserves for their expansion.

Expansion limits are also enforced through the Municipality. It avoids drawing up detailed urban-building plans, which is a prerequisite to receive building permits in East Jerusalem. Yet, failure to receive building permits is usually the case in Palestinian areas [21]. Accordingly, when getting a building permit seems too complicated and vague to Palestinians, they do not even attempt to apply. As a result, people tend to build in a chaotic manner to cater to their needs, this being the only possible way to have a home within the limited boundaries. In the Palestinian neighborhoods, it is estimated that more than 30% of the structures are built without permits [22]. Therefore, fines for building without permits are very high and usually end with forced demolition orders that are also at the expense of the owners, who are obliged to pay for the destruction of their homes. According to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics (PCBS), Israeli authorities have demolished 88 buildings in the Jerusalem governorate in 2016 [23], making a total of 730 demolished housing units between 2004 and end of September 2017 [21].

In addition to the territorial restrictions on Palestinian urban development, building percentages that is referred to as the ratio of allowable sum of floor areas to the area of the land parcel according to the Jerusalem municipality, are used to limit Palestinians’ ability to build and develop. While the Israeli colonies are given building percentages in the range of 120–200%, Palestinian areas are restricted to a building percentage in the range of 50–70%. Such policies led to an acute housing crisis that affected living conditions [24].

Another limit to the amount of land available to Palestinians, is through declaring national parks, where development is almost entirely forbidden. For instance, through municipal plans, privately owned Palestinian lands have been declared as national parks in four cases. Some of these parks have no archeological or natural importance. Showing that the aim is not conservation, but ensuring contiguity from the Old City to surrounding settlements for Israelis [21].

On the other hand, housing and services are an issue in the east part of the city. The housing crisis that emerged from Israel’s urban restrictions and policies imposed on Palestinians resulted in poor living conditions. Indicators show that population density is a critical factor. According to statistics, the average number of persons per room in East Jerusalem is 1.9 persons per room, while it is almost half on the Israeli side, with an average of 1 person per room [21].

Palestinians in East Jerusalem, like Israelis, are obliged to pay taxes; however, they do not receive similar services. By avoiding to invest in Palestinian neighborhoods, the municipality does not provide infrastructure and services like roads, pavements, water and sewage systems, frequent garbage collection, schools, cultural institutions, and public and recreational spaces. Shortage in the number of classrooms in Palestinian neighborhoods also leads to a dropping out of school at about the age of twelve years. At the social level, the Ministry of Education also bans any school textbooks with a Palestinian historical narrative and identity. Unless a Palestinian school curriculum is replaced with an Israeli one, no school funds are received [19].

Only 52% have legal access to the water grid in Palestinian neighborhoods. In addition, only four municipal social-service offices exist in the east, in comparison to 19 in Israeli neighborhoods. Similar is the case with health, where the difference in the number of health centers between the Palestinian and Israeli neighborhoods is 6 family health centers to 27 centers, respectively [21].

Nevertheless, more investments by the municipality using the same taxes collected from Palestinians are directed to renew and regenerate urban projects in the West and in areas around the Old City. These projects aim to improve the transportation systems, create recreational and cultural centers, attract tourists, and create money-generating businesses for Israelis, as well as more housing capacity when possible. Lately, international and famous architects have been invited to design some main buildings in the city, two of which being Mosche Safdie and Santiago Calatrava.

4. Mosche Safdie’s David Village

Safdie’s David Village (Figure 2), which was designed in 1986 and completed in 1993, is situated beside the Old City of Jerusalem to the west. Today, it is surrounded by very old buildings and other, newer buildings. David Village is part of a larger complex, which is a project of an urban renewal around the Old City. It stretches to the commercial center of the city in the west, partially built on an old Muslim cemetery called ‘Ma’aman Allah’, commonly known as ‘Mammila’.

The aim of this project is to link the old and new parts of the city using parks, squares, housing, a commercial center, and a shopping and cinema complex. David Village contains two hundred terraced apartments reminiscent of the Montreal Habitat 67 of Mosche Safdie. However, this time it was designed with archways and domed roofs. The striking difference in appearance of this project originates from the aesthetic use of traditional architectural forms with the help of contemporary construction systems and techniques. In other words, the requirement to achieve perfection in respect of the modern production involves ‘the playful use of the masses in human scale’ as it was previously done in traditional architecture. The design concept of this project was also described by the architect as providing harmony and continuity between the old and new, ‘as an area of interaction and coexistence’ [25,26].

David Village is in harmony with the physical environment surrounding it. It is a successful interpretation of the local traditional architecture. Although it looks as if it is disordered, just like traditional architecture, it contains a complex order that is required in order to successfully use contemporary technology.

The technology used in David Village is prefabrication, which is a frequently preferred form in large structures in West Jerusalem. In addition to a reinforced concrete frame system and infill walls, Jerusalem’s white stone, as cladding for the façades, is also prefabricated and assembled with the use of advanced construction techniques. The modern building technology utilized by the Israeli government since its establishment aimed to provide a large amount of housing in fast and optimal timing to allow for migrating Jewish populations. Following the unification of the city and after the destruction of the ‘green line’ wall in 1967, such advanced technologies were particularly employed for the construction of mass-housing settlements in Jerusalem.

The same building technology is also used for the construction of high-rise blocks of settlements, which are built on the hilltops overlooking Jerusalem. The façades of these blocks are also clad in mechanically carved stone assembled in large chunks on the surfaces. All buildings present a stone outlook in Jerusalem, because the use of any material other than stone on the façade of the buildings is not permitted, irrespective of the size of the building. This rule was enforced in order to create an overall harmony throughout the whole city during the British mandate and has never been changed [27,28].

Such advanced technologies are not used by the Palestinians in Jerusalem, who can only build individually. They are allowed to build on their own land in East Jerusalem and the laws about this issue change continuously [29]. Because of this, many Palestinians build their houses first and then try to apply for building permits retrospectively. These applications are mostly declined, resulting in the compulsory demolishing of the buildings. They usually use conventional construction techniques of reinforced concrete frame systems with infill walls and white stone for cladding.

Nowadays, less suitable materials like sandwich panels of corrugated zinc sheets are used for construction on Palestinians lands, as it is easier to dismantle once a demolition order is issued. Yet, such materials do not provide adequate and healthy living conditions for its users and may collapse under heavy snow or load. Thus, Palestinian houses appear separate and dispersed from each other in comparison to the houses of the Israelis. Since the availability of houses is limited, as a result of the issue of expansion limitation, many of the Palestinians live together in large family groups [29].

5. Santiago Calatrava’s Bridge of Strings

As a solution to the increasing number of cars and narrow streets, a light rail was introduced to connect parts of the city in Jerusalem. The route of the light rail runs along the main artery of the city, a street that virtually divides the East and the West. It aims to link settlements built within the east part of the city to the west, like the settlement of Pisgat Ze’ev to the east of the city. Stopping at 23 stations throughout its route, the light rail stops at only three stations in the Palestinian neighborhoods of Beit Hanina and Shufat, north of the city.

In the west and along the route of the light rail, a major junction on the highway that connects the Tel Aviv-Jaffa with Jerusalem created a need to create a bridge for the light rail to cross. Symbolically, creating a monument at that specific location would also create a gate to the holy city. An ‘S’-shaped bridge was designed by the Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, who was invited by the mayor of the city. The bridge is surrounded by buildings that were built between 1960 and 1980 in West Jerusalem. Streets around the bridge are narrow and the traffic is problematic.

Palestinians know Calatrava’s bridge in Jerusalem as the White Bridge or ‘Al Jiser Al Mualaq’ that translates as the Hanging Bridge and Israelis refer to it as the Bridge of Strings or David’s Harp due to the cable strings that help suspension of the bridge (Figure 3). When somebody looks at the city from a distance, this bridge appears as one of the most dominant structures, together with the Dome of the Rock, and the new separation wall on the skyline of the city.

The Bridge of Strings is far to the ‘green line’ wall that divided East and West Jerusalem, which was destroyed in 1967 during the war. Actually, the authorities worked hard to finalize the construction of the bridge in 2007 to use it to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the destruction of this wall. In other words, it was built for the anniversary of the unification of Jerusalem that is annually celebrated in Israel. However, Palestinians do not know that this bridge represents unification and peace, which still do not exist.

Neither do some Israelis and Palestinians appreciate the bridge. A Palestinian resident of Jerusalem made the following statements about the bridge during an interview with the authors:

We did not know the bridge stood for the 40th anniversary of the unification of Jerusalem, we heard that from you. Besides, we did not know it stood as a symbol of peace or that peace had even come to Jerusalem.

On the other hand, not all Israelis are happy about the bridge themselves. To understand their opinions, the study analyzes articles related to the bridge in the local Israeli newspapers. Only two newspapers publishing in English were found, Haaretz and The Jerusalem Post. Both newspapers have published several articles related to the bridge since the initiation of the news to the public in 2004. All articles are available on the internet. Written by different authors, eight articles related to the bridge were found in Haaretz, and two in The Jerusalem Post. Most articles cite opinions of different Israeli people, professionals, and stakeholders. All opinions mentioned in the text other than the authors’ opinion are recorded and analyzed. Analysis is based on the following criteria:

• Negative: showing criticism towards the bridge or personal dislike, clearly stated in their statements.
• Positive: showing acceptance to the construction, aesthetics, and need of the bridge.
• Neutral: statements that show no acceptance or rejection, but comparing the bridge to other things in general with the absence of any personal dislikes.

Among the eight articles in Haaretz, four articles show references to people’s opinion while the rest are just news, and one is an interview with Santiago Calatrava. The articles without opinions are omitted. As for The Jerusalem Post, the two articles include opinions of people and, therefore, nothing is omitted.

Table 1. Analysis of Israelis’ opinions about the bridge obtained from Israeli newspapers. (Ha: refers to Haaretz newspaper and JPost: refers to Jerusalem Post Newspaper).

Source	Interviewee	Statement	Opinion	Source	Interviewee	Statement	Opinion
1-Ha 2008	Resident	‘I don’t look at it at all’ [30]	Negative	4-Ha 2004	Marketers of the bridge	‘What do you want, another ugly concrete bridge?’ [31]	Positive
2-Ha 2006	Professor of Archit. and planning	‘Contributes to the aesthetics of the surrounding’ [32]	Neutral	5-JPost 2008	Resident aged 62	‘It’s completely useless’ [33]	Negative
	Architect	‘Who even notices the bridge amid the chaos that exists around it?’ [32]	Negative	6-JPost 2010	Spokesmen of Jerusalem Transportat-ion Master plan	‘There were a lot of people who didn’t like the Eiffel Tower at first as well’ [34]	Positive
3-Ha 2008	Resident	‘This bridge is just one giant headache’ [35]	Negative		Security Guard	‘I really feel like we’re getting close to the end’ [34]	Neutral
	Café owner	‘It looks like a giant crooked nail’ [35]	Negative		Resident	‘In the morning I saw this train, and there was happiness in ‘my heart’ [34]	Positive
	Resident aged 27	‘I don’t think Jerusalem needs something like this. We have our own monuments’ [35]	Negative		Worker on bridge site	‘We’re 100% sure it will pass over in peace’ [34]	Positive
	A high-school student aged 17	‘The bridge reminded him of King David’s harp’ [35]	Neutral
	Resident aged 23	‘looked like a ship’s sail’ [35]	Neutral

shows the analyzed opinions and reference to the six articles.

According to Table 1, the study found 16 opinions in both newspapers. The names of interviewees are omitted and only their profession is shown as mentioned in the newspaper. Otherwise, unknown interviewees are referred to as ‘Resident’. Short statements that best describe the interviewees’ opinions are also attached. In the last column, the statements are analyzed according to the criteria mentioned above by indicating if the interviewees’ opinion is negative, positive, or neutral about the bridge.

The results show that five out of the 16 interviewees’ opinion is positive towards the bridge, one of which is the spokesman of the Jerusalem Transportation Master Plan and the other is a worker who was happy to see an end to the construction process. Approval of the bridge is generally justified with the following:

• The need of a modern monument in Jerusalem.
• The preference of an aesthetically well-designed bridge rather than having a concrete one, typical everywhere.
• The aesthetical contribution it offers to the surroundings and improvement of the environment as seen by a professional architect and planner.
• The happiness about the determination of construction works with no failure of the structure from a worker and stakeholder perspective.

However, no relation to its contribution to peace or discrimination towards Palestinians is mentioned by the interviewees who supported the bridge.

Other interviewees did not show approval or rejection towards the bridge. They just compared the bridge to other things and it reminded them of a ship sail, a spider web, and David’s harp. Five out of the 16 interviews were neutral, as their opinions were vague and ambiguous to decide about issues related to the bridge.

On the other hand, the results show that six out of the 16 interviewees’ opinion were negative towards the bridge. Although no direct rejection to the need of the bridge in order to solve the problem of the traffic was noted, interviewees stated different problems that can be summed according to the following:

• The location of the bridge within an insignificant neighborhood, which does not allow full perception of the bridge due to the crowded traffic.
• The size of it that hangs high above all buildings in vast difference within its periphery and the skyline.
• The expensive cost and allocated budget put into one project.
• The relation of its aesthetics vis-à-vis its monumentality in relation to its use to carry the light rail.
• Its symbolic value that competes with Jerusalem’s historical monuments like the Old City walls and the religious buildings within it.

In relation to the impact of the bridge to the overall city (including its East and West), no critical issue related to the bridge is mentioned by the interviewees other than the city’s nonessential need for a new symbolic monument. Ignoring the fact that Palestinians are being discriminated against on one side, while extravagant and expensive monuments are being built in the west, even when interviewees are very aware of the fact that the construction expenses are being paid by taxes collected by Palestinians as well as Israelis by the municipality. However, this important issue is discussed by Meron Benvenisti, a Haaretz author, stating that:

As the ‘identity symbol’ was being constructed in the west, another monument was being built in the east—a separation wall. Contrary to the optimistic and elegant skyward monument, the brutal and opaque concrete wall divides neighbors and relatives, and symbolizes pessimism and hopelessness for the chances—perhaps illusion—of reasonable relations between the two ethnic groups.

[36]

Hence, the observed interviewees’ statements and opinions show that Israelis, too, are not able to relate the bridge’s contribution to peace in Jerusalem, contrary to Calatrava himself, who insists to qualify his work as something other than what it is as in his statement:

During his visits to Jerusalem, Calatrava stays in the guesthouse at Mishkenot Sha’ananim, and ‘the most beautiful thing is to sit on the balcony opposite the Old City and to breathe the clean air’. From the balcony, he hasn’t had an opportunity to study the problems that preoccupy Jerusalem and Israel. For example, although he has heard about the separation barrier being built in East Jerusalem, he says: What I do is the opposite of building walls. I build bridges. A bridge is something that connects instead of separating. We must build bridges, lots of bridges, on both sides, and between both sides.

[31]

In total, Israelis who had the chance to express their opinion are as skeptical as Palestinians in regard to the bridge’s contribution to peace. This makes Calatrava’s bridge a monumental structure, which expresses a nonexisting peace, within a monumental city, which, itself, expresses centuries-long conflict between cultures. Yet, the authorities’ decision towards the inauguration of the bridge was announced only to Israelis and was carried out as if there is a festival to celebrate—an ‘event’ created by the people [13] (pp. 40–44).

6. On the Expression of Nonbeing in Architecture, the Other Face of Warchitecture

Both Safdie’s and Calatrava’s projects express harmony or peace, which does not exist; ‘harmony/peace as nonbeing’. This is the main point that can be derived from our field research in Jerusalem concerning the peacefulness of aesthetics in conflict zones. Although this result seems to be fairly obvious for a conflict zone such as Jerusalem, its actual meaning merits further discussion.

Although Safdie’s project might demonstrate harmony with the physical environment, the use of mechanical cladding of stone and prefabrication type of building technology, places this project in a political position that cannot be ignored. The architect either did not know about the settlement politics of the Israeli government (although his native land is Israel) or he ignored the political situation by using such technology, which was not (and still is not) being shared with the Palestinians.

Contradictory to the discourse of harmony behind Safdie’s project, the general political situation in the country is not harmonious. The togetherness of the Palestinians and Israelis is (and was) a conflictual togetherness.

Mosche Safdie’s David Village does not provide continuity with the human and political environment, although it is in harmony with its physical environment. The ontological basis of its aesthetics is weak, because it expresses a harmony that does not exist. It expresses ‘harmony as nonbeing’. Thus, we believe that David Village does not demonstrate peaceful aesthetics.

On the other hand, Calatrava intended to tie his works with peace. His statements on the inauguration day came as follows:

Bridges are instruments of peace. They join places that were separated. They permit people to meet. They even are meeting points. They are done for the sake of progress and for the average citizen. They even have a religious dimension. The word religious comes from Latin, meaning ‘creating a link’. This particular understanding has a very deep meaning, especially in Jerusalem, which contains in its name the words shalom, salaam, peace. A bridge makes a lot of sense in a city like Jerusalem.

[37]

Calatrava’s words about the bridge recall Martin Heidegger’s interpretation of bridges. According to Heidegger, bridges represent a connection between two radically different worlds, such as life and death. Within the example of the bridge, Heidegger says that the bridge ‘gathers or brings together’ the fourfold, which are ‘earth, sky, divinities, and mortals’ [38] (pp. 147–148). However, Calatrava’s bridge is designed to carry the light rail and a pedestrian crossover point, but people prefer not to climb up in order to cross the road. Thus, the bridge is not connecting anything and it is not being used as a real bridge. It is better to qualify it as a monumental symbolic structure that expresses peace. Thus, its sensational and monumental appearance is the main transcendental characteristic of the bridge [39].

The expression of peace contradicts and contrasts with the reality of the human condition in Jerusalem, particularly with regard to the discrimination against Palestinians. It also contradicts with the political situation within the country because of the ongoing conflict. Thus, Calatrava’s White Bridge lacks the ontological continuity with its human and political environment, which is necessary in terms of respecting the issue of peace. Simply having a discourse on peace is not sufficient, in itself, for being peaceful. The bridge, therefore, expresses ‘peace as nonbeing’.

In sum, it could be stated that destruction towards the culture in East Jerusalem through architecture and urban planning policies is another face of ‘warchitecture’. The brutal destruction of architectural artifacts that stood for culture during wars does not need to be deliberate and severely damaging in order to be named destructive. On the contrary, inability to build, grow, expand, and cater for basic needs is another face of destruction—another face of ‘warchitecture’. The lack of war does not also mean peace, and when nothing is done for Palestinians, attempts toward peace and continuity for what both of the discussed buildings attempt to appear as, and in difference to what they really are, is a false attempt to peace. No architectural aesthetics can fake proclamation to peace when everyday life is based on creating differences and discrimination.

However, the discussion on the two cases suggests that ‘warchitecture’ of Andrew Herscher has another face other than severely damaging a building and thereof a culture; the following issues can be destructive:

• Inability to build on one’s land.
• Lack of building permits and planning.
• Confiscation of land and resources.
• Entry restriction to worship places.
• Limitations of where to live.
• Surveillance and control on daily basis.
• Continuous destruction of homes.
• Lack of basic amenities and needs.

In sum, revisiting warchitecture theory urges one to think about the different relationship between war and peace in contemporary societies, where in Jerusalem neglect is utilized as another face to the wartime machine and destruction. As a result, Palestinians in Jerusalem continue to suffer from an ongoing conflict that ignores their existence, not only by Israelis but also by international politics. Although no actual wars reminiscent of Herscher’s warchitecture are taking place on ground, the other face of it is tearing down any future solution in the city. Architecture that continues to express nonexistent togetherness and peace, whilst ignoring the political and social context, will not help for any real peace to take place. Reimagining an image of a city by disregarding the reality on the ground will only allow for real wars to take place. Architecture and architects should express the truth and nothing but the truth in order to provide for better and equal living conditions to all. Only then can we bridge gaps and differences.

7. Conclusions

The two buildings in Jerusalem, therefore, are not successful examples of peaceful architectural aesthetics, because they do not present continuity within the social and political context. We might even say that they play with people’s most innocent feelings, because they express harmony/peace as nonbeing. They present the other face of ‘warchitecture’, which is not physically destroyed, but destroyed in other ways. We can say that the ethical value of such buildings is being destroyed, because they do not represent a truth that is valid for everybody.

The beauty of these buildings is similar to the beauty of ‘a passerby’ in Charles Baudelaire’s poem about ‘love at last sight’, ‘To a Passerby’, originally ‘À une passante’, in his book ‘The Flowers of Evil’, originally ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ [40] (p. 169):

I drank, convulsed, out of her pensive eye, /A livid sky where hurricanes were hatching, /Sweetness that charms, and joy that makes one die. /A lightning-flash—then darkness! Fleeting chance/Whose look was my rebirth—a single glance! /Through endless time shall I not meet with you? /Far off! Too late! Or never!—I not knowing/Who you may be, nor you where I am going—/You, whom I might have loved, who knows it too!

[41]

Such a short-term love as described above only leaves a sad smile on people’s faces and there is nothing so urgent in this sad smile that would force people to change their lives.

However, we still think that it is possible to achieve peaceful architectural aesthetics in conflict zones by not using common architectural tools of discrimination, but by being honest about the aesthetic discourse behind that piece of architecture, by achieving a transcendental appearance, and by providing ontological continuity within the overall context.