From Edward Fong
In 1944, in a desperate bid for freedom, the citizens of Warsaw launched a massive uprising against their Nazi occupiers.
The Poles fought with valiant ferocity, often with the odds stacked against them. Unfortunately, the support they had expected failed to arrive and the uprising was brutally crushed.
To punish the “subhuman” Poles for their defiance, the Nazis began demolishing the historical and ancient city methodically.
Libraries, universities, museums and galleries were put to the torch, with priceless artworks and artefacts left to the mercy of the flames.
By the time the Soviets expelled the Nazis from Warsaw in 1945, up to 90% of the city had been destroyed, with its historical district a smoking ruin.
Yet, despite the fact that Poland had lost so much during the war, their zeal to preserve and to protect their history had survived.
In the decades that followed, the Poles would go all-out in restoring their capital city, with historians and engineers working together to piece back together their national heritage.
Oftentimes, blueprints were lacking and they had to depend solely on photographs and witness accounts when it came to accurately rebuilding historical sites.
Fast forward to 2023 and if you walk the streets of Warsaw, you would never know how much effort the Poles put into restoring their city to its former glory.
Visiting its historical district will still take you back to the Warsaw of its vibrant past, one which never saw the ravages of human savagery and cruelty.
It retains its historical identity, something that even the most destructive war in modern history could not erase.
Why do I, a Malaysian so far removed from Poland, bring this up? Well, to be curt, I simply find the lengths that the Poles went to, in preserving their history, extremely admirable.
This is especially the case when a historical mansion in Penang, one which had stood for over a century, has been left a pile of rubble as of this month.
A mansion which had seen years of colonisation, war and independence come and go has finally fallen to the ravages of development.
Shockingly enough, this isn’t even the first historical site to suffer such a fate, with many having been lost over the years.
Apparently, the said mansion had been torn down because it could not be saved from an ongoing termite infestation.
I find that line of reasoning to be somewhat hilarious, in a morbid sense, given that the Poles literally rebuilt their historical buildings from ash.
And even more ironic is the fact that George Town is a Unesco World Heritage Site, so you would have thought more effort would have gone into saving the mansion.
But, no. Down into the dust, it must go. And go it did. Maybe it might get rebuilt one day, but it seems unlikely.
What will stand in its place instead? Likely yet another condominium project. As though George Town has been running out of those.
Perhaps this new condominium will one day attain the same historical value as the mansion which stood before it did, but I find that highly doubtful.
It appears to me that Malaysia, in general, tends to take its history for granted; to the point that it sometimes forgets that history is eroded over time without proper preservation.
Funnily enough, there are precious few exceptions. The tin dredge at Tanjung Tualang is an example of official dedication to historical preservation.
Yet, that success story is a rarity rather than a commonality. For every historical building saved, 10 are left to rot.
A quick jaunt around the Sultan Abdul Samad Building will reveal just how dilapidated the historical site is.
To think that this is the fate of one of the famous symbols of Kuala Lumpur. Imagine what luck lesser-known buildings have!
One sometimes has to wonder if this is deliberate. More likely though, it is just sheer callousness which leads to this indifference towards the protection of Malaysian history.
Does anyone remember the desecration of the Bujang Valley archaeological site? When yet another development company demolished one of the ancient temples there?
It should have been bigger news. There should have been heavier penalties for those responsible for such an act.
Yet, despite public outrage, nothing, if anything, was done and the prehistoric site was left permanently scarred by such careless attitudes.
Imagine if someone destroyed the megaliths at Stonehenge, or the Pyramids of Giza, or the Parthenon.
No doubt their respective countries would be up in arms about it, and justifiably so; an attack on one’s historical heritage is an attack on that nation’s very identity.
It may not always appear that way, but buildings can hold a very special place in a nation’s history, as they tell stories that would otherwise disappear in time.
Edward Fong is an FMT reader.
The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.
