發(fā)布時(shí)間：2016-05-13 10:20

作為一座“歷史不連續(xù)”的城市，任何試圖保護(hù)遺產(chǎn)的嘗試都要耗費(fèi)巨大的努力。然而，約翰尼斯堡的“今天還在，明天就消失了”的形態(tài)，已經(jīng)陷入了拆除再修復(fù)的無限循環(huán)之中，公眾對(duì)其早已不以為然。正如近期約翰挖苦的說，“自從1886年在海威爾德的首次亮相之后，據(jù)說約翰尼斯堡已經(jīng)被修復(fù)又拆除不下五次。每一次它都比以前更丑了�！边@種說法并不新，至少可以追溯到首個(gè)采礦營(yíng)地時(shí)期。

就像很多其他南部城市一樣，約翰尼斯堡市中心和其郊區(qū)住宅區(qū)，是很多四海為家之人的家園，這里聚集了貧窮的低收入家庭。（據(jù)估計(jì)2007年市中心居住人口為401904），家庭平均年收入在R19201到R38400之間。盡管在經(jīng)歷了20年的城市衰退之后，很多重要機(jī)構(gòu)在城市再生項(xiàng)目的協(xié)調(diào)之下，再次在中心商務(wù)區(qū)出現(xiàn)，，市中心的居住區(qū)已經(jīng)大幅縮減，很多建筑物都難以得到服務(wù)保障，過于擁擠兵器通常是不合法的。強(qiáng)大的住房租賃市場(chǎng)和社會(huì)動(dòng)力，讓約翰尼斯堡中心地區(qū)成為了名副其實(shí)的大都會(huì)。

得力于種族隔離的衰減，很多個(gè)人個(gè)家庭都開始選擇搬到更中心的住宅區(qū)，非洲市區(qū)家庭的分解因此得以戲劇性加速。在將近20年的時(shí)間里，約翰尼斯堡憑借其正式和非正式的經(jīng)濟(jì)就業(yè)機(jī)會(huì)，吸引了大量的非洲移民。

In a city “discontinuous with its past” (ibid) any attempt at heritage conservation takes on a gargantuan effort. Yet, this image of Johannesburg as ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ trapped in an endless cycle of demolition and rebuilding is also deeply ingrained in the public mind. As the late John Matshikiza noted wryly, “[i]t is said that Johannesburg has been built up and torn down no fewer than five times since it first appeared on the Highveld in 1886. And each time it has reemerged even uglier than before” (Matshikiza 2008:221). Such a view is also not new and probably dates as far back as the first mining camp. [12]

As in many other cities of the south, the Johannesburg city centre and its surrounding historic residential suburbs (see Figure 2) is home to a large cosmopolitan community with a disproportionate number of its residents coming from poor, lower income households. (It is estimated that in 2007 the residential population of the Inner City was 401,904 (City of Johannesburg 2009:25) with the average household earning between R19,201 and R38,400 per annum (City of Johannesburg 2009:133)). While many of the key office nodes in the CBD have re-emerged from nearly two decades of urban decline through concerted urban regeneration programmes, the residential areas of the Inner City remain visibly rundown with many buildings inadequately serviced, overcrowded and often informal and illegal (ibid). This despite a strong rental accommodation market and social dynamism which makes central Johannesburg one of Africa’s most cosmopolitan.

In light of the collapse of racial segregation, many individuals and families have opted to move to more central and accessible accommodation, this at a time when household decomposition among African families has dramatically accelerated across the municipal area. For nearly two decades central Johannesburg has also drawn large African immigrant communities attracted to both the formal and informal economic opportunities offered by proximity to the CBD. Following in the wake of the xenophobic attacks that rocked South Africa in the winter of 2008, many immigrants and refugees from across the region have opted to move to the Johannesburg Inner City. This area is perceived as safer than outer lying townships and informal settlements in the municipality with communities that they regard as antagonistic (Mail & Guardian, October 23, 2009, page 18).

Thus Johannesburg is today regarded not only as Africa’s preeminent ‘global city’ – an important player in continental and international trade networks, but also “a key destination point for African migrants from throughout the continent and one of the most international cities in Africa” (Simone 2001:150). A shortage of affordable housing, which has seemingly been a characteristic feature of Johannesburg since its founding (Beavon 2004, Parnell 2003), has thus been greatly exacerbated, if not openly exploited by unscrupulous and often illegitimate landlords.

Accelerating in-migration to the CBD has come at a time when the City administration has had to address intractable legacies of spatial, economic and institutional segregation. At the same time rolling back more than three decades of urban decline and neglect that has severely impacted on the quality of the urban environment, and in many instances has been catastrophic on heritage places and structures.

While the recent history, nature and impacts of this urban transformation has been well documented by others (see Morris 1999, Beavon 2004, I. Chipkin 2005, Reid 2005, Fraser et al. 2005, and C. Chipkin 2008), what is significant here is the rapidity with which this change has occurred with the “transition in racial and national composition, depreciating infrastructure and institutional life... happen[ing] so quickly, that conventional mechanisms for monitoring and assessing social change have proved largely inadequate” (Simone 2001:152). As Simone shows, it is not necessarily the racial character of this urban transformation which has been so remarkable but rather the speed at which it occurred. In turn this has made it almost impossible to keep track of infrastructural and social change which is seen as critical for allowing proper urban planning (ibid), and importantly, for fashioning strategies and responses around urban conservation.

During the early 1990s, Johannesburg experienced an unprecedented phase of accelerated decentralisation, compounding a two-decade old ‘white flight’, as upwardly mobile white residents migrated to suburbia, or emigrated abroad, and large scale corporations relocated to an ever-expanding network of edge cities (C. Chipkin 2008:408). This ensured that from 1980 Johannesburg “had acquired a second CBD at Sandton, changing its habitat as easily as a change of clothes, writing of vast assets and acquiring new value with virtually a shrug of the shoulders” (ibid, 410).

That decentralisation was rooted in poor urban planning decisions made from the 1950s and onwards is today apparent. This greatly accelerated during the transition period as apartheid finally collapsed and a last white-dominated Council found itself powerless to control the Inner City (Reid interview). Although the processes that lead to this are quite complex, the result has been that areas such as Hillbrow and Berea were eventually transformed “from a lower middle class [white] flatland into a black slum land” (ibid). By 1994 and the year the country held its first democratic elections, uncertainty and a lack of political leadership effectively meant that,

“enforcement of by-laws ceased, and building control, land-use management and other planning regulations, along with credit control, were all abandoned. The Inner City housing environment became increasingly unstable, with white landlords and the new black tenants in contestation over rentals, obligations and rights” (Reid 2005:3).

Thus the social and political uncertainty of the 1990s not only heightened insecurity but also fuelled divestitures and speculation “adding a large volume of transactions to the quick pace of change” (Simone 2001:153).

As white capital fled to the northern suburbs and its edge cities, downtown Johannesburg experienced growing informalisation of public space. The taxi industry and street hawkers claimed the city streets and sidewalks, seemingly unregulated by a powerless Council. Predictably, inadequate policing saw rising crime across much of the Inner City. The prevalent view at the time was of a city breaking up as a northern city (rich, mostly white and increasingly globalised and services oriented), conflicted with a southern, poor and structurally unemployable third world city; “[t]he appropriate image might well be one of two vastly unequal wheels turning, and the point where they grind is in the central city” (Rogerson et al. 1999).

Equally disconcerting, research by Gotz et al. (2003) suggests that during the 1990s and early 2000s the Inner City experienced a form of “ruined urbanisation” as the inward migration of new arrivals to the city failed to replicate the strong civic organisations and movements that characterised the black townships during the 1980s. Under such conditions urban migration to the city is not “associated with the stabilizing of identities and the formation of durable collectives. Rather it is premised on exchanges and associations that fail to congeal, to become institutionalized and regularized” (I. Chipkin 2005:98). Not only did a civil society fail to congeal but the nature of social interaction was one marked by contestation. This contestation played itself out between white landlords and black tenants and equally destabilising turf wars between “traders and taxi operators; between formal retailers and informal traders; between the foreign migrants and South Africans... and [ultimately] between the diverging economic and social systems...” (Reid 2005:3).

In this heady environment the task for urban policymakers became almost impossible. Development could no longer be just concerned with the provision of infrastructure and services to deal with a growing backlog, but necessarily required the creation of “functional” new social formations (I. Chipkin 2005:99) as corrective against both a “disorderly city” and a “disorderly civil society” (Lipietz as quoted by I. Chipkin, ibid, 103).

Much of the unmet housing need during the 1990s and 2000s was for transitional accommodation for poor residents not able to access accommodation through formal channels. This meant that invasions of empty buildings were a regular occurrence (sometimes facilitated by sophisticated gangs able to bribe and co-op local officials and police officers). Mothballed public buildings were left particularly vulnerable to illegal occupation and sometimes resulted in controversial forced removals, or even death as a result of the hazardous conditions posed by these structures. Equally destructive, public spaces and amenities were in many instances eroded by terminally low-maintenance budgets and the absence of visible public sector coordination around their maintenance and operations. As a result, some of the more noted tragedies that have played out in inner-city buildings have occurred, ironically, in publicly-owned structures of historic importance. [13]

Many empty office buildings have faced a similar fate. According to a study by the City, the average age of office buildings in the city are around sixty-five years. Hence today these buildings are considered incompatible with modern business requirements and “visibly suffering from degradation and physical deterioration” due to neglect (City of Johannesburg 2009:47). In many instances, they are no longer seen to offer viable office or commercial uses, countless buildings have been boarded up and subsequently invaded.

In both high- and low-rise residential buildings, so-called slumlords have also capitalised on the growing need for cheap shelter. The result has been overcrowding in poorly maintained structures. In some buildings shacks have been built on balconies and tenants even live in basements and storerooms (DFED 2004). In others, services have been disconnected, internal light levels are low, and residents use candles and paraffin lamps creating, in turn, deadly fire hazards, while illegal and dangerous electricity connections abound. Similarly, buckets are used for sanitation and emptied into stairwells and central courts, while rubbish accumulates in lift shafts. Sometimes, emergency exits are completely blocked and doors locked at night, effectively trapping residents within (ibid). Blocked gutters and downpipes cause serious structural problems while flooded basements provide “a breeding ground for vermin” (ibid). In short, “[a]ll the signs of a world in decay and disorder develop” (C. Chipkin 2008:408).

For much of the late 1990s and well into the previous decade these so-called ‘bad buildings’ have symbolised the Johannesburg inner-city crisis with its powerful associations of ganglands, slumlords and urban poverty. Even as recent as 2009, one media report speculated that there are as many as one thousand ‘bad buildings’ in central Johannesburg (Sunday Argus, May 24, 2009:12). Not surprisingly, property values have deteriorated. The Trafalgar Inner City Report of 2004 quotes City of Johannesburg data showing that between 2000 and 2004 property assessment rates in the Inner City was down twenty-six percent while in Doornfontein the drop was as high as sixty-one percent.

That ‘bad buildings’ have become synonymous with criminality has been unfortunate. As a report by the Centre of Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) makes it clear that

“the municipal critique of ‘bad’ buildings goes further than the assertion that they are unhealthy and unsafe. The municipality caricatures these buildings as ‘sinkholes’; hives of criminality, which degrade the public environment and defeat the purpose of inner-city renewal” (COHRE as quoted in I. Chipkin 2005:104).

In addition, the highly influential ‘Grootboom’ judgement, which ruled that the state could not evict people without giving them alternative accommodation, has further complicated matters for local authorities as municipalities are now constitutionally held liable to provide alternative accommodation when evicting residents. The controversial use of the ‘Red Ants’ to evict residents and dump their belongings on the street has, in theory, been discontinued.

‘Bad buildings’ have highlighted the overburdened capacities of local authorities with city regulations and by-laws insufficient to deter illegal occupations. Even more problematic, some suggest that the City at present does not have a coherent policy for dealing with so-called hijacked buildings (Fraser 2002). Others continue to deplore the absence of affordable transitory public-housing schemes.

Since the mid-1990s, in response to the decline of the Inner City, City and provincial authorities in partnership with a coalition of private enterprises and prominent land owners, have introduced more coherent policies, strategies and programmes aimed at urban renewal. This has been achieved primarily through the activities of the JDA, Blue IQ (a provincial economic infrastructure investment agency), as well as private-led initiatives including the Central Johannesburg Partnership (CJP) and the Johannesburg Inner City Business Coalition (JICBC). Today numerous agencies, departments and private initiatives including city improvement districts (CIDs) are also active in urban renewal projects.

In 1997 a new Vision for the Inner City (‘The Golden Heartbeat of Africa’) was adopted. Similarly, the Gauteng Trade and Industrial Strategy was adopted in the same year. This would result in the establishment of Blue IQ, a multi-billion rand initiative to develop economic infrastructure in targeted sectors through high profile projects such as the development of Constitution Hill and the Newtown Cultural Precinct – both mixed use precinct developments. In 1999 there was the adoption of the Inner City Economic Development Strategy and the Inner City Spatial Framework and further expanded through the City Centre Development Framework (2000), the 2002 Joburg 2030 Vision, the 2003 Inner City Regeneration Strategy and subsequent Business Plan (2004), and the 2007 Inner City Regeneration Strategy.

The 1997 Vision for the Inner City (City of Johannesburg 2007:3) set the course for most subsequent strategies and stated that the CBD would become:

A dynamic city that works

Liveable, safe, well-managed and welcoming

People-centred, accessible and celebrating cultural diversity

A vibrant 24-hour city

A city for residents, workers, tourists, entrepreneurs and learners

Focused on the 21st century

Respecting its heritage and capitalising on its position in South Africa, Africa and the whole world

A truly global city

The trading hub of Africa, thriving through participation, partnerships and the spirit of Ubuntu

The Vision and subsequent development strategies for Johannesburg was an attempt to deal with the challenges of growing the City’s economy and improving global competitiveness while simultaneously having to address basic service delivery and improving the livelihoods of the poor (Parnell et al. 2006:338). While environmental matters initially received little attention, as the decade progressed the strategy work increasingly considered long-term environmental matters and concerns around sustainability.

The decade also saw the implementation of important precinct developments including Constitution Hill, Newtown, the Fashion District, the Main Street Mall upgrade, the construction of Metro Mall (a taxi rank that can rightfully be described as monumental), Mary Fitzgerald Square, the Faraday taxi rank, the upgrading of Braamfontein, the construction of the Nelson Mandela Bridge, as well as the introduction of the Urban Development Zone tax incentive, and the establishment of both legislated and voluntary CIDs. More recently this has been augmented by the construction of ‘Gautrain’ – a rapid rail link between the Johannesburg and Pretoria CBDs – as well as the introduction of the ‘Rea Vaya’ Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) system fashioned on the Bogota BRT.

Similarly, since the mid-1990s housing development agencies including the Johannesburg Housing Company, the Joburg Property Company and the Johannesburg Social Housing Company have been initiating ‘slum clean ups’, building upgrades and conversions, as well as new-build projects. In addition, civil organisations such as Friends of the Inner City lobby not only government but are directly involved in community clean-ups and other support projects.

The result of all this work is that “[c]ontemporary Johannesburg is undergoing a massive spatial restructuring not unlike the one that occurred under apartheid. In the central business district, blocks of dilapidated and worn-out structures are competing with government-sponsored building projects” (Nuttal et al. 2008:54). In addition to large-scale public projects linked to precinct developments, there are also the boutique hotels, loft apartments, art galleries, up-market conference centres, public commissioned art installations and iconic, corporate commissioned building projects. These developments are aided by a rapidly expanding footprint of a CCTV-based public security system. As Graeme Reid, former CEO of the JDA points out, “[i]n the face of expert pessimism, Joburg is back” (Unpublished Powerpoint Presentation, 2007).

In response to the extensive remaking of central Johannesburg, questions around sustainability and social justice remain. Some wonder whether the improvement of buildings and the general urban environment is in fact meeting the needs of the poor and not possibly leading to further social exclusion through the encroaching privatisation of public space. Similarly, questions around gentrification have arisen as property rates escalate and more affluent residents return to certain parts of the city. (While this phenomenon has been more visible in the Cape Town Inner City experience (see for example Kotze et al. 2000), the next decade will probably yield fruitful gentrification studies on Johannesburg.)

As the celebrated turn-around of the Inner City progresses unevenly, areas such as Jeppestown, Troyville, Bertrams, Yeoville, Hillbrow and Berea continue to face the harsh realities of disinvestment, poor maintenance, abandoned buildings, the informal occupation of structures, as well as so-called ‘hijacked buildings’. Many affected properties and areas are regarded as significant historic structures and streetscapes, sometimes dating back to the founding of residential Johannesburg.

Since 2004, the City of Johannesburg has also been particularly concerned with areas closely associated with the host venues of the 2010 FIFA Soccer World Cup. The need to present Johannesburg as a ‘World Class African Host City’ has given fresh impetus to urban upgrading projects, in particular around the main sports precincts of Ellis Park (in the east of the City) and Soccer City (in the west).

In light of the resulting developments carried out as part of the Greater Ellis Park Precinct Development, concerns have in turn been raised around the demolition of historical houses, as well as the relocation of residents to other areas as a result of the proposed de-densification of Bertrams. The intention is to secure Bertrams as an essentially low-rise, low- to medium-density suburb. That many residents of Bertrams and surrounding communities are immigrants from the rest of the continent have further raised complex issues around vulnerability and social exclusion, particularly in light of the 2008 xenophobic attacks. In the meantime overcrowding, poverty and neglect continue to threaten historic houses with pockets of rubble and ruins marking the places where Edwardian row houses (and sometimes tragically the lives of people) have been claimed by yet another fire.

Heritage impact

The Johannesburg experience as sketched out here confirms Razzu’s view that, as with old Accra and many other African centres, there is a complex relationship apparent between urban decline, poverty and cultural heritage and that “when considered along with the impact of the intertwined forces of urbanization and modernization, it may result in the dangerous threatening of the cultural tracts, social structure and urban patterns of the poor living in historical centres” (Razzu 2005:399).

Overcrowding and poor maintenance are key characteristics of the urban slum and are catastrophic for older building stock and neighbourhoods. As overcrowding increases, so does wear and tear with owners and managing agents struggling to keep up with maintenance. This is particularly marked when such maintenance grows technically and economically more demanding as the building ages. Poor maintenance in turn fuels protracted conflicts between owners and tenants and “in this heady cocktail of decline, social relations become more and more acrimonious” as tenants accuse (mostly white) landlords of neglecting and abandoning their buildings, while landlords in turn blame their mostly black tenants of damaging their properties (I. Chipkin 2005:94). In some instances, tenants also complain of landlords removing more valuable fittings and furnishings in a wholesale asset stripping, presumably for resale on the antique and collectibles market, while damaged fittings and furnishings are substituted with cheap and architecturally insensitive replacements.

In certain cases, ‘bad buildings’ are left to decay to such an extent that they are structurally unsound and demolition becomes the only viable option. When this happens proper surveying and documentation of the building is not necessarily undertaken as good conservation practice would demand, neither are important features salvaged. In others, fires caused by unsafe living conditions can gut a building in a matter of minutes – commonplace occurrences in a city notoriously underserviced by emergency services. Given the size of the Inner City, an adequate assessment of each and every heritage building is clearly daunting given the present inadequacy of resources committed to heritage conservation. Currently the city does not even have a list of heritage places at risk.

While overcrowding and building maintenance backlogs cause problems at a building level, at a neighbourhood scale lack of bulk infrastructure maintenance and urban service provisioning can also impact negatively on structures as water pipes burst and waste management services collapse or become ineffectual. Poor law enforcement also means that a substantial part of the city’s semi-precious metal fittings have ended up with scrap dealers. During the 1990s even large-scale public artworks by prominent artists disappeared in this manner. Ironically, so too did many of the old NMC bronze plaques which used to mark declared monuments.

As the intertwined processes of functional and physical decay plays itself out in property after property, entire neighbourhoods and streetscapes become affected. The result is a loss of value of the building stock that further fuels disinvestment (and redlining) in such neighbourhoods. With disinvestment, the local economy is affected and as a result poverty levels increase and the quality of life deteriorates for residents, many of whom cannot leave the area. Those who can, of course, opt to leave. In turn, social institutions which served the needs of specific communities such as halls, churches, theatres, synagogues, cinemas and social clubs, relocate or simply close down. Such historic or architecturally important structures are left vulnerable to neglect, decay and insensitive redevelopment. Only a few of these structures find an ‘a(chǎn)daptable reuse’ in a manner sensitive to their heritage.

The loss of historic communities palpable for example in the decline of ‘Old Chinatown’ in the CBD or the loss of a strong Jewish presence in Doornfontein, Yeoville and Hillbrow, is overshadowed by the legacy of apartheid forced removals that continues to haunt public space across the city. During both the colonial and apartheid eras forced removals did not spare the Inner City and its surrounding suburbs. Even in cases where some historic structures have remained, the last remnants are slowly eroding away, with very little effort currently made to rescue the little that is left.

In light of this apartheid legacy, the “conservation of the architectural and urban heritage, and the safeguards of the rights of tenancy for historic residential communities” (Fraser 2008) continue to be interlinked; posing complex questions around social and spatial justice and urban regeneration.

As many inner-city residents are perceived to lead highly mobile lives, there is a perception that they show little motivation to invest in stabilising their residential areas. The reality is of course that poor communities find it difficult to maintain buildings and other public spaces due to their economic circumstances (Razzu 2005:400). They are also not alone. Even publicly-owned monuments and structures are threatened due to inadequate resourcing.

Rapid urban transformation makes it difficult to track not only urban change but also the manner in which this change affects urban heritage. During the 1990s and 2000s, the situation was compounded by the fact that most public heritage institutions – such as the NMC underwent major restructuring as new policy was adopted and institutions transformed in order to be more reflective of the democratic dispensation. Even where such institutions existed, the reality is that for almost two decades, heritage conservation in most municipalities received very little attention and in most cases continues to be subsumed under wider arts and culture programmes.

Although in recent years there appears to be a new recognition of the importance that heritage buildings can offer viable central accommodation and indeed that the Inner City itself offers viable opportunities for public housing development. It is clear that the mandated heritage structures and those driving public housing programmes in the Inner City have yet to develop and implement coherent strategies and programmes. As the ICOMOS Charter makes clear, housing should be placed firmly at the heart of heritage conservation, “the improvement of housing... [must be] one of the basic objectives of conservation” (ibid, 416). This is an opportunity that the City of Johannesburg has been slow to respond to. While there have been some successes, most recently through the Better Buildings Programme, apathy towards conservation issues in general remain firmly entrenched. Some even suggest that only sites associated with struggle heritage are at present capable of unlocking large-scale public investment (interview with G. Reid).

With the massive reinvestment in central Johannesburg underway, new developments can also threaten heritage structures. While the NHRA sets out procedures for obtaining the necessary permits, there have been a number of embarrassing delays in the issuing of permits and rulings by the relevant SAHRAor PHRA committees. Worse, some critics suggest that decisions are arbitrary and counter-productive and as in the case of the so-called Government Precinct (the consolidation of provincial government departments around the Beyers Naude Square area which initially proposed the demolition of a number of city office blocks), have been mired in controversy. There are even claims that they have greatly disrupted regeneration programmes to the detriment of Inner City renewal (interview with G. Reid).

A related issue has also emerged concerned with the quality of architecture and the urban design of new developments. As a discussion document for the City of Johannesburg and the JDA makes clear “[i]n rapidly redeveloping inner cities, especially where there is a concern to meet pressing demand for new uses such as residential space, there is a risk that architecture and urban design of lasting quality, that is rooted in local contexts and reflects prevailing societal norms and desires, may be sacrificed for mere functionality” (City of Johannesburg 2007:20).

‘A world class heritage’?The question then is, how is the city managing its ‘vestiges and debris’? How has heritage management been dealt with as an urban management and planning concern given a city notoriously uncooperative and apathetic, if not downright antagonistic, to matters of conservation? Three key planning documents from recent years give some indication of official thinking around what seems to be an intractable problem.

The first, the Heritage Policy Framework (HPF), was adopted in 2004 and developed by the city’s Arts, Culture and Heritage Services (City of Johannesburg Arts, Culture & Heritage Services 2004). The document acknowledges that heritage should play a meaningful role in social reconstruction and the re-making of public space across the city (Itzkin 2008:3). In addition, a strong argument is made for heritage-led development that entails a conceptualisation of public space as primarily concerned with social justice and spatial equity, allowing for formerly unrecognised – or wilfully suppressed – voices to become visible again, “heal old divisions and promote more inclusive and democratic culture” (ibid, 4).

The HPF also positions heritage firmly within the City’s 2030 vision of becoming ‘a(chǎn) World Class African City’: “Key assets from Johannesburg’s past provide the makings, in cultural terms, of a world class African City which is at the same time both cosmopolitan and distinctively African. Preservation of these resources becomes imperative if Johannesburg is to have significance of place.” (City of Johannesburg Arts, Culture & Heritage Services 2004:5). Heritage and an emphasis on the place-making aspect of the City’s historic environment, is seen as important for future regional and global competitiveness. Clearly, “a place that has historic depth, interest, image and meaning” (ibid) is considered vital to delivering the ‘World Class African City’ brand.

More practically, the HPF considers the City’s obligations in terms of the NHRA and sets out arrangements for, in particular:

Identifying and managing heritage resources of ‘local significance’ or worthy of conservation

Providing consent for any alteration or development affecting sites listed in the provincial heritage register

Designating any place as a ‘heritage area’ and provide for its conservation through appropriate planning schemes or by-laws

Coordinating the issuing of permits for the alteration or demolition of structures older than sixty years with the Provincial Heritage Resources Authority of Gauteng (PHRAG)

Taking on additional competencies in terms of the Act as required

That urban management of the historic environment requires a collaborative decision-making process involving planning, development and heritage functions is acknowledged, although “[r]etaining cultural significance remains a primary objective. When change is being considered, a range of options should be explored in order to seek a course of action which minimizes the reduction of cultural significance. This should be the subject of a consultative process...” (ibid; emphasis mine). ‘Creative re-use’ and adaptation of heritage structures and sites are advocated where appropriate. The HPF calls on heritage to be placed as a central concern in urban regeneration projects as well as the Better Buildings Programme (BBP) of the Johannesburg Property Company.

In setting out policy guidelines, the HPF adopts the principles as set out in the Burra Charter of 1999 and in particular the call for a ‘cautious approach’: “do as much as necessary to care for the place and to make it usable, but otherwise change it as little as possible so that its cultural significance is retained.” (ibid).

What is not clear though from the HPF is exactly how urban heritage conservation will be resourced. While the framework calls on the City to develop its heritage management capacity in relation to staffing, expertise, experience and administrative systems, it is clear that heritage conservation has yet to receive significant attention. In addition, the policy is also not clear on how the planning control systems that are called for will be implemented and monitored given the absence of focused resources.

The challenge of managing the City’s urban heritage is similarly apparent from the Inner City Regeneration Charter which was adopted in 2007 following extensive engagement with Inner City stakeholders.

In terms of heritage, the document recognises that “the Inner City is... the site of considerable development opportunity. Pressure for the demolition or major reconstruction of the existing stock, in order to convert the built environment to new uses, has sometimes brought the different interests of developers and government and heritage agencies and communities into tension. Pressure on the heritage decision-making system has also resulted in some delays in the handing down of decisions, as well as inconsistencies in decisions” (City of Johannesburg 2007). In response then, the Charter commits the City to the development and adoption of clear heritage policies, protocols and principles for dealing with developments and secondly commits the City to “ensuring that all heritage buildings owned by the City are maintained as well as possible within the allowed resources” (ibid). Again, as in the HPF, issues of resourcing are left unaddressed.

Lastly, a more recent document, the Joburg Inner City Urban Design Implementation Plan (City of Johannesburg 2009), recognises that the “Joburg Inner City plays a crucial role in terms of the identity, effective place mar-keting, global competitiveness and connectivity of the City of Joburg as a successful World City”. As a strong locus for cultural production and consumption where such activities are “overlaid on the historic core of the City”, the world city theme is therefore clearly reinforced in the plan.

Importantly the design plan calls for refurbishment, conversion and infill as an alternative to demolition and new-build when addressing housing and neighbourhood-scale regeneration. The plan explicitly calls for the maximisation of existing heritage resources, as well as the “visual celebration of the unique history and heritage of the Inner City of Joburg”. This will be achieved through the creation and reinforcement of ‘Identity Elements’ involving directive and interpretative signage, public art and renovated heritage elements. ‘Heritage zones’ must be clearly demarcated and a strategy for the sustainable management of such places formulated and underpinned by strong incentive programmes to ensure that important heritage buildings are identified, restored and renovated in collaboration with current owners. ‘Critical heritage assets’ should also be acquired and renovated. Lastly, the plan envisages a series of interlinked precincts that stretch across the Inner City where each precinct is supported by strong identity elements.

Conclusion

Rapid urban change in the Inner City of Johannesburg is impacting on the built heritage of not only the historic centre but also its associated residential suburbs, as well with significant buildings, structures and streetscapes showing signs of serious destruction, neglect and decay. Policies in theory exist to stop unwanted development and the proliferation of ‘bad buildings’. Beyond small-scale efforts not enough is currently being done to stop further deterioration of old housing stock occupied by lower-income residents. Even though successful heritage-led developments with investment and tourism potential such as Constitution Hill, the Drill Hall, Gandhi Square, Main Street Mall and Newtown have been implemented in the Inner City, these tend to favour iconic public spaces (often associated with struggle heritage) that supports the City’s focus on the creation of a ‘world class heritage’.

While progress has been made to develop more cohesive policy responses, it remains to be seen how this work will be implemented when the operating budget of the City for heritage is less than R500,000 per annum with only one full-time staff member overseeing the function (assuming a population size of 3,2 million, this translates into fifteen cents per capita allocated to heritage per annum). Although the City has initiated a number of legal cases to stop illegal destruction and developments, to date almost none have resulted in successful court cases and even large-scale property owners and developers clearly feel immune from prosecution.

If the current situation continues the City stands to lose the last remaining fragments of its most historic residential suburbs. This is ironic for a City that has already lost so much of its early history due to colonial and apartheid policies of forced clearance. As Graeme Reid also points out this is not just about the loss of architecturally important structures, but is equally about the loss of a vital link to the lives of ordinary, working-class people (Reid interview).

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