Friday, June 28, 2024

Seruni's Ramblings (4)

"Stories in Pewayangan (the realm of Wayang) include local legends and historical events, often carrying moral or ethical lessons. They emphasise that balance and harmony are essential. The stories frequently impart lessons on morality, justice, and the importance of virtue. They serve as allegories for real-life dilemmas and ethical choices. Wayang can also address contemporary issues, integrating modern themes such as social justice, politics, and environmental concerns into traditional narratives. Modern technology and media are supposed to be used to introduce this art form to younger generations and international audiences.
So, our Ki Dalang then tells us, 'When Petruk was crowned to be a King, he ordered a ladder brought up to the meeting. His ministers were surprised and asked, 'Why did you bring a ladder to the meeting, Kang Mulya?'
'To address the high-level issues!' replied the Panembahan followed by the sound of Ki Dalang's keprak."

"Effective planning that benefits all can be likened to the well-balanced scale: a perfectly balanced scale of equitable planning ensures no group bears an undue burden. It distributes benefits fairly, lifting everyone. Or the nourishing tree: just as a healthy tree provides shade, fruit, and oxygen to all, thoughtful planning nurtures communities, offering essential services and opportunities. Or the inclusive dance: imagine a harmonious dance where every step matters. Inclusive planning invites everyone to participate, creating a vibrant, interconnected city. Or the shared buffet: a well-planned city resembles a diverse buffet—ample choices for all. Housing, education, green spaces, and jobs are accessible to everyone. Or the compassionate compass: effective planning guides us toward compassion, empathy, and understanding. It points to solutions that uplift the entire community. In essence, good planning benefits all, leaving no one behind," said Seruni while looking at the Garuda statue in Pancasila Sakti Monument.

"Governments in some countries move their capital cities for a variety of reasons, balancing numerous strategic, economic, environmental, and cultural considerations. The decision is usually aimed at addressing pressing national issues and fostering long-term development goals. Moving a capital city is a momentous and complex decision made by the government. Various reasons can drive this choice, often combining political, economic, environmental, and social factors. Moving the capital can help to decentralize political power and reduce congestion in the current capital. It often aims to distribute resources more evenly across the country. The current capital might be vulnerable to natural disasters, terrorist attacks, or geopolitical threats. Moving the capital can enhance national security. A new capital can symbolize a break from the past, such as post-colonial transitions or regime changes. It may represent a new beginning or a commitment to national unity.

Establishing a new capital can stimulate economic growth in underdeveloped regions. It can attract investments, create jobs, and improve infrastructure in areas that may have been neglected. Existing capitals may suffer from overcrowding, traffic congestion, pollution, and overburdened infrastructure. Moving the capital can help alleviate these issues and reduce the strain on the existing city.
If the current capital is prone to natural disasters such as earthquakes, floods, or rising sea levels, relocating the capital can be a preventive measure to safeguard government functions and national stability. Some governments may move their capitals to locations less vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, such as rising temperatures and changing weather patterns.

A more centrally located capital can facilitate better governance and communication across the country. It can ensure that government services and infrastructure are more accessible to a broader segment of the population. A new capital can be planned with modern infrastructure, including better transportation networks, administrative buildings, and communication systems, enhancing efficiency.
Moving the capital can help in promoting a more inclusive national identity, particularly in countries with diverse ethnic or cultural backgrounds. If the current capital holds significant historical or cultural sites, relocating the capital can help preserve these areas from urban pressures and developmental encroachment.
Some examples of capital relocations include Brazil, which moved its capital from Rio de Janeiro to Brasília in 1960 to promote economic development in the interior of the country and reduce regional inequalities. Nigeria moved its capital from Lagos to Abuja in 1991 to promote neutrality and centrality in a diverse nation and reduce congestion in Lagos. Kazakhstan relocated its capital from Almaty to Astana (now Nur-Sultan) in 1997 for strategic and economic reasons, including better positioning for future growth and development.

The dream of relocating the capital city is not as easy as snapping the fingers. While capital relocations offer benefits, they also come with downsides. Moving capital city involves massive expenses—infrastructure, government buildings, and housing for officials. It can strain the economy. Building a new capital city is an expensive undertaking, involving substantial financial resources for construction and relocation. Moving capital city can disrupt local communities, displacing people and altering the social fabric. The success of a new capital requires long-term commitment and continuous investment, which can be challenging for some governments.
Citizens face upheaval—relocating homes, jobs, and schools. Familiarity with the old capital is lost. Citizens’ reactions to capital relocations may varied. Some supported the moves, seeing them as progress and symbols of national development. Others resisted due to sentimental attachment to the old capital or concerns about disruption. Overall, these decisions sparked debates and shaped each country’s identity.
The old capital holds historical and cultural significance. Relocation risks erasing part of a nation’s heritage. Cultural heritage played a significant role in citizens’ reactions to capital relocations. People often feel emotionally connected to their old capital due to historical events, memories, and cultural landmarks. Moving the capital disrupts this attachment. Capitals represent a nation’s identity. Citizens associate cultural symbols, traditions, and heritage with the existing capital. Relocating can evoke feelings of loss or change, leading to political tensions and debates.
Building a new capital takes time. Infrastructure gaps may persist during the transition. It require careful planning to mitigate these downsides.

There have been several cases where attempts to relocate capital cities either failed or resulted in negative impacts. These failures can stem from a variety of issues such as financial burdens, logistical challenges, social discontent, and unintended economic consequences.
Myanmar (Burma), the capital was moved from Yangon to Naypyidaw in 2005, reportedly for strategic reasons and to escape the congested and vulnerable Yangon. The development of Naypyidaw was largely funded by the Myanmar government itself. While China has been a significant investor in Myanmar's infrastructure projects, Naypyidaw's relocation and development were primarily driven by domestic political and strategic considerations.
Despite substantial investments, Naypyidaw remains underpopulated with a large portion of the city being uninhabited and unused. The city is geographically isolated and lacks the vibrancy and economic activity seen in Yangon, leading to limited economic opportunities. Many citizens and civil servants are reluctant to move due to the lack of amenities and social infrastructure.

Malaysia, the capital relocated to Putrajaya to reduce congestion in Kuala Lumpur and create a more centralized administrative hub. Putrajaya was predominantly funded by the Malaysian government through the national budget and specific development agencies. The development of Putrajaya has been extremely costly, leading to concerns about economic feasibility. Many government employees and businesses have been hesitant to move, leading to slower-than-expected population growth and limited economic activity. The financial burden of constructing and maintaining Putrajaya has raised questions about its impact on national finances.

Nigeria, moved from Lagos to Abuja in 1991 to reduce congestion in Lagos and to provide a more neutral and centrally located capital. The relocation and development of Abuja were funded by the Nigerian government, with support from various international partners including China. The relocation has not significantly alleviated the congestion and economic disparities in Lagos. The cost of developing Abuja has been immense, and the financial strain has impacted other areas of national development. The economic burden and incomplete infrastructure issues are related to Nigeria’s internal budget constraints and planning challenges rather than external investment. Some parts of Abuja still lack essential infrastructure, leading to challenges in achieving its intended role as a fully functioning capital.

Kazakhstan, moved from Almaty to Nur-Sultan (formerly Astana) in 1997 to promote economic development and reduce the strategic vulnerability of Almaty. The development of Nur-Sultan was heavily funded by the Kazakh government using revenues from the country's natural resources, particularly oil and gas. Nur-Sultan faces harsh weather conditions, making it less attractive for residents and businesses. The development of the city has been costly, putting a strain on the country’s finances. The city has struggled to attract a large population, leading to issues with underutilized infrastructure and services.

Tanzania, the capital was moved from Dar es-Salaam to Dodoma in 1973 to promote development in the central region and ease congestion in Dar es Salaam. The relocation to Dodoma has been a long-term project funded by the Tanzanian government, with sporadic support from international partners incl. China. The relocation has been slow, with many government functions still based in Dar-es-Salaam. Dodoma has not matched Dar es-Salaam in terms of economic development and opportunities. Development in Dodoma has lagged, and the city lacks the infrastructure to support its role as a capital. The slow development and insufficient infrastructure are tied to Tanzania’s internal planning and budgetary constraints.

While the relocation of capital can offer potential benefits, it is fraught with risks and challenges that require careful planning, sufficient funding, and consideration of the broader social and economic impacts. Relocating a capital city requires enormous financial resources. Mismanagement or underestimation of costs can lead to significant economic strain.
People often resist moving to new capitals due to attachment to their current homes, lack of infrastructure, and the isolation of new locations. Harsh climates, remote locations, and poor planning can also lead to practical difficulties in making new capitals functional and livable. New capitals can suffer from underdeveloped infrastructure as well, making it difficult to attract residents and businesses, and thus failing to achieve the intended economic benefits. Moving a capital does not always alleviate congestion or economic disparities in the original capital. In some cases, it may even exacerbate issues by diverting resources.

A good capital city can be likened to the heartbeat, just as the heart pumps life-giving blood throughout the body, a capital city pulses with energy, governance, and cultural vibrancy. Or the beacon, like a lighthouse guiding ships through stormy seas, a capital city illuminates a nation’s path, symbolizing hope, unity, and progress. Or the grand stage, a capital city that hosts the nation’s theatre—a place where history, politics, and culture unfold on a magnificent scale. Or like the melting pot, much like a bubbling cauldron, a capital blends diverse ingredients—people, ideas, and traditions—into a rich cultural stew. Or the nerve centre, just as nerves transmit signals, a capital city connects regions, decisions, and aspirations, ensuring the smooth functioning of a country. In essence, a good capital city embodies vitality, purpose, and unity.
On the contrary, a less-than-ideal capital city can be described as the dead end, like a cul-de-sac with no escape, a bad capital city stifles progress, trapping its citizens in inefficiency and stagnation. Or the broken compass, a misguided capital lacks direction, leading the nation astray—its compass needle spinning aimlessly. Or the echo chamber, much like a room where voices bounce off walls, a poor capital city isolates itself from diverse perspectives, perpetuating flawed policies. Or the leaky roof, a dysfunctional capital fails to protect its citizens—like a leaky roof during a storm, allowing problems to seep through. Or like the fading beacon, once bright, a deteriorating capital loses its luster, casting shadows instead of guiding the way. In essence, a bad capital city hinders progress, lacks vision, and fails to serve its people.

The development of Indonesia’s new capital city, Nusantara, has faced numerous challenges and failures that threaten to undermine its success. This ambitious project, intended to relocate the capital from Jakarta to East Kalimantan on the island of Borneo has encountered significant obstacles.
The project, with an estimated cost of $32 billion, has struggled to secure adequate funding. The government’s budget constraints have led to delays and scaling back of plans. Efforts to attract private investment have been met with scepticism due to concerns over political stability, regulatory issues, and the project's long-term viability.
Initial estimates have been mostly exceeded due to inflation, supply chain issues, and unexpected expenditures. This has led to financial mismanagement and budget overruns. Poor planning and corruption have resulted in inefficient allocation of resources, further straining the project’s budget.

The construction of Nusantara has led to extensive deforestation in Borneo, a region known for its rich biodiversity. This has raised concerns about habitat destruction and loss of species. The large-scale deforestation and construction activities contribute to significant carbon emissions, undermining Indonesia’s commitments to climate change mitigation.
The new capital region faces challenges in water supply due to deforestation and changing rainfall patterns, potentially leading to water scarcity for the new city's inhabitants. Alterations to the landscape have increased the risk of flooding, exacerbating the environmental impact of the project and endangering future developments.

The project has led to the displacement of local and indigenous communities, disrupting their livelihoods and cultural practices. Many affected residents have received inadequate compensation and support, leading to social unrest and legal disputes.
Construction activities threaten local cultural heritage sites, leading to a loss of historical and cultural identity for the region. The influx of new residents and construction workers has disrupted local cultures and social structures, potentially created tensions and conflicts.
The project has been hampered by complex and slow processes. The project has faced uncertainty due to shifting political priorities and leadership changes, affecting continuity and commitment to the project. There is also compelling opposition from various political groups and civil society organizations, citing concerns over environmental impact, financial feasibility, and social justice.
The new capital lacks essential infrastructure such as roads, public transport, and utilities, leading to logistical challenges and poor living conditions. The planning phase did not adequately address key issues such as environmental sustainability, social impact, and economic integration, resulting in a flawed project execution.
Critics argue that the projected economic benefits of Nusantara are overly optimistic and unlikely to justify the enormous investment. The relocation of the capital could disrupt economic activities in other regions, leading to imbalances and inefficiencies. The project’s focus on rapid development has overlooked sustainability, raising concerns about long-term environmental impacts and resource depletion. The economic model of the new capital may not be sustainable in the long run, especially if it fails to attract sufficient business and population growth.

The relocation to East Kalimantan, a region with important ethnic and political tensions, poses risks to the stability and security of the new capital. The project has exacerbated regional disparities, with concerns that the new capital will divert resources and attention from other underdeveloped regions. The involvement of foreign companies in the project has led to concerns about sovereignty, economic dependency, and geopolitical influence. The environmental impact of the project has drawn international criticism, potentially straining Indonesia’s diplomatic relations with environmental and regional partners.
The Nusantara project, while ambitious, has faced serious hurdles that highlight the complexities of such a large-scale endeavour. Financial constraints, environmental degradation, social displacement, bureaucratic inefficiency, and doubts about economic viability pose major challenges to its success. Addressing these issues requires comprehensive planning, transparent governance, and a commitment to sustainable development that balances the needs of people, the economy, and the environment.

Now, imagine that Nusantara’s budget as a treasure chest with a big hole in the bottom, where every time you toss in a gold coin, it rolls out and falls into a bureaucratic abyss. Nusantara’s funding is like a beggar dreaming of a golden palace, relying on pennies from sceptical passersby who wonder if this dream is worth their spare change. Building Nusantara is like riding the Money Pit Express, where the ticket price keeps doubling every mile, and the destination remains a distant mirage. Imagine trying to fund a city by breaking open a bureaucrat’s piggy bank, only to find it filled with monopoly money.
Nusantara’s development is like conducting a symphony with chainsaws, where the melody of nature is drowned out by the discordant roar of deforestation. The new capital is like the final serenade in a once lush rainforest, where the trees bow out to make way for a sprawling, unplanned concrete jungle.
Water resources for Nusantara are like a dry well, where every attempt to draw sustenance is met with the echo of empty promises and parched earth. Building Nusantara is like rolling dice in a game where the prize is a flood risk, and the consolation is a landslide, ensuring everyone loses.

Relocating communities for Nusantara is like forcing a nomad to settle in a theme park, where every tent is a ticket booth and cultural heritage is an inconvenient obstacle course. Compensation for displaced communities is like building a ghost town out of empty promises, where the only residents are whispers of justice and fairness that never materialize. Nusantara’s construction is like driving a bulldozer through a time machine, erasing ancient cultural landmarks in a rush to pave over history with forgettable modernity. Imagine cultural heritage as a delicate house of cards, easily toppled by the gust of progress blowing from Nusantara’s construction sites.

Navigating Nusantara’s development is like wandering through a labyrinth of red tape, where every turn leads to another bureaucratic dead end filled with pointless paperwork. The project’s management is like a never-ending ride. Nusantara’s future is as uncertain as a pendulum swinging wildly in the halls of politics, where each new government changes direction, leaving the city in perpetual limbo.
Investing in Nusantara is like throwing money into a black hole, where the return on investment is as elusive as light escaping from the event horizon. The economic promises of Nusantara are like a gold-plated albatross, impressive and costly, but ultimately a burden that drags down any hope of genuine prosperity.

Nusantara’s sustainability claims are like an environmental mirage, appearing green and lush from afar but turning into a desert of broken pledges up close. The city’s economic model is like walking a tightrope over a pit of quicksand, where one misstep in sustainability could mean sinking into irreversible failure. The project is like a reverse Robin Hood, robbing resources from struggling regions to lavish upon a new city that promises much but delivers little.
Attracting foreign investment for Nusantara is like selling shares in a sinking ship, where potential investors are more interested in jumping overboard than buying in. The environmental impact of Nusantara is like a diplomatic hot potato, tossed around by international critics who blame it for its failures.

The tale of Nusantara is one of grand ambitions overshadowed by financial mismanagement, environmental degradation, social upheaval, and political instability. It’s a saga where every step forward seems to be matched by two steps back, and where the dream of a new, thriving capital often appears more like a distant mirage than a tangible reality. The project serves as a cautionary tale about the complexities and challenges of building a new city from scratch, particularly in a context rife with economic, environmental, and social hurdles. Public opposition to the project is like a soapbox circus, where every performer has a different gripe, but they all agree that the main act—Nusantara—is a TikTok joke.

We'll still be on the Indonesian topic in the next episode, biidhnillah."

Seruni then sang,

My head's underwater
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind *)
Citations & References:
- Vadim Rossman, Capital Cities: Varieties and Patterns of Development and Relocation, 2017, Routledge
- David Walters, Designing Community: Charrettes, Masterplans and form-based Codes, 2007, Elsevier
- Pablo Baisotti (Ed.), New Global Cities in Latin America and Asia: Welcome to the Twenty-First Century, 2022, University of Michigan Press
- David L.A. Gordon (Ed.), Planning Twentieth Century Capital Cities, 2006, Routledge
*) "All of Me" written by John Stephens & Tobias Gad