Profit vs. Memory: How ‘Opportunity Costs’ Destroy Our Cultural Fabric
Imamur Hossain. 04 December, 2019.



For many of us, heritage isn’t all about grand monuments; it’s also about the humble structures that shaped our communities. We often come across news headlines about historic buildings falling into disrepair or being purposefully demolished by the very authorities who were supposed to safeguard them. During my master's study at the University of Leicester, I conducted an in-depth examination of our governing structures to assess how Bangladesh's non-listed heritage is treated, focusing on a particularly revealing case. My goal was to explore the fate of these overlooked community-rooted heritages by unpacking a theory that dominates much of the Global South: 'Authorized Heritage Discourse' (Smith, 2006). One incident, in particular, stands out—the 2017 demolition of the laboratory building at the 'Krishi Complex,' a site of historical importance. What followed prompted many to rethink their understanding of 'heritage.'


The Day the Lab Fell Silent


On 22 October 2017, under the direction of the Public Works Department (PWD), one of the last surviving colonial buildings in the Dhaka North City Corporation began to fall.


Like many other colonial structures built in the same period, this building was originally intended to house the new administration following the Bengal Partition in 1905. The laboratory complex was once part of a vast agrarian landscape, with the government acquiring approximately 600 acres of rice fields for its establishment. Beyond its role in agricultural advancements, it was a witness to the scientific evolution of Bangladesh.


The building housed the Bangladesh Agricultural Research Institute's (BARI) Laboratory, which focused on crop production research. In the early twentieth century, this institution even collaborated with prestigious British universities such as Oxford and Cambridge. The PWD claimed that the building had become structurally unsound and compromised in its integrity. Yet, no expert opinion was sought to evaluate whether new buildings could be constructed within the complex while preserving and retrofitting the existing ones.


The building itself was an architectural relic—its 20-inch thick clay brick walls, teak staircases, and spacious multi-bay layout covered approximately 7,000 square feet per floor. The long north-south-facing verandas helped regulate ventilation, while its lack of exterior grand columns distinguished it further.


As demolition began, conservationists, architects, historians, and concerned citizens mobilized. On the second day, a peaceful human chain was formed, urging the government to intervene. Police repeatedly disrupted the protest. Even when the High Court imposed a prohibition on demolition on 1 November 2017 and demanded an explanation as to why the demolition should not be deemed illegal, it was already too late. Media reports confirmed that the major demolition had taken place between 27 and 29 October, leaving the building irreparably damaged (The Daily Star, 2017).


Invisible Heritages: How Bangladesh’s Policies Betray the ‘Everyday’


Let’s take a step back and analyze this through the lens of the Burra Charter, which provides guidelines for evaluating cultural significance (Australia ICOMOS, 2013). The building, though not massive, had undeniable architectural uniqueness, blending Mughal and European styles while adapting to Bangladesh’s humid climate. It held historical significance as a milestone in agricultural research, had social value for the research community, and carried emotional and even spiritual significance for those connected to it.


At first glance, one might assume the building was demolished simply because it was never designated a significant heritage site. But a closer look at the situation reveals deeper systemic failures.


Gap A: When Heritage Needs Permission to Exist


The building’s ultimate downfall was its exclusion from Bangladesh's official list of protected heritage sites. It was absent from the Department of Archaeology’s registry and was not included in RAJUK’s 2009 gazette. The Dhaka Detailed Area Plan (1995–2015) provided no clear guidelines for preserving potential heritage structures, leaving non-listed buildings vulnerable to demolition.


One of my favorite scholars, Professor Dr. Laurajane Smith of the Australian National University, describes how governments control the definition of 'heritage' through what she calls 'Authorized Heritage Discourse' (AHD) (Smith, 2006). By her criteria, this laboratory building failed to fit within the dominant AHD because:


Experts or the ‘legitimate spokespersons of the past’ had not officially endorsed it for preservation.

It lacked the monumental grandeur typically associated with 'elite' heritage, making it incompatible with mainstream conservation priorities.

AHD also tends to ignore the layered meanings of community-rooted heritage, favoring landmark structures while dismissing the everyday built environment that holds significant cultural value. As Professor Rodney Harrison argues, if a structure is not listed in a heritage registry, it often receives no legal protection at all (Harrison, 2013).


In Bangladesh, the process of officially recognizing heritage sites is murky at best. Article 19 of the constitution mandates that "The State shall adopt measures to conserve the cultural traditions and heritage of the people" (Constitution of the People's Republic of Bangladesh, 1972). However, the heritage listing process remains undefined and often subject to political influence. In some cases, authorities enforce the rules selectively. In a recent discussion with Department of Archaeology officials, we debated why certain structures like the 'Rose Garden Palace' and 'Momin Mosque'—both under a century old—received heritage status, while equally significant but politically inconvenient sites were overlooked (Wikipedia, 2025a; Wikipedia, 2025b). The same applies to the homes of figures like Jagadish Chandra Bose and Bhai Girish Chandra Sen, which lack architectural distinction yet hold immense cultural relevance. While Bhai Girish Chandra Sen's home in Narsingdi is now a museum, Jagadish Chandra Bose's paternal home in Rarikhal, Munshiganj, is a memorial complex but may not have official heritage site status (Wikipedia, 2025c; The Daily Star, 2017).


Gap B: Bureaucracy’s Dual Faces—A Conflict Within


The political underpinnings of this demolition raise concerns about how government bodies handle cultural preservation, their internal coordination, and the conflicts of interest that arise. The Department of Architecture approved a new master plan for the site, signaling its complicity in the demolition. Ironically, some of its own architects joined the protests, highlighting the moral contradictions within the agency.


This kind of bureaucratic tension is not new. Former Chief Architect Shah Alam Zahiruddin once delayed a government project at a heritage site due to inadequate documentation. And while the Department of Archaeology recently intervened to halt unauthorized government construction in Muktagacha and Sutrapur Zamindar Bari, these instances only underscore the broader lack of coordination among agencies (Department of Archaeology, 2025).


Gap C: Trading History for Concrete Dreams


To many decision-makers, an old building that doesn’t generate revenue is a financial burden—an 'opportunity cost.' In this case, rather than maintaining a historic structure, authorities approved a seven-story multifunctional skyscraper. The question remains: at what cost to our cultural landscape?


Gap D: Neglecting Community Narratives


One of the starkest issues is the state’s failure to recognize how deeply communities attach meaning to heritage sites. Official policies often disregard the 'sense of place' associated with buildings that have long-standing local significance. While unofficial heritage lacks formal state recognition, the collective memories tied to these spaces shape cultural identity in ways that policies fail to grasp.


Aftermath of Erasure: Glimmers Amid the Rubble?


Demolitions like these are often met with outrage. News media frame them as acts of cultural vandalism, and the state is accused of either indifference or outright hostility toward built heritage.


In his book Heritage: Critical Approaches, Professor Harrison argues that demolition carries historical and political consequences (Harrison, 2013). While the protest against the Krishi Complex demolition did not evolve into a full-fledged movement, it did succeed in galvanizing public interest in conservation. A similar public outcry over New York’s Pennsylvania Station in 1963 led to the passage of the Landmarks Law, which later saved Grand Central Terminal.


Perhaps, this is Bangladesh’s moment to reflect.


Preserving a building with little material value in a rapidly developing country is an uphill battle. However, the growing awareness of heritage conservation suggests that public attitudes are shifting. The key question is whether the government will close the gap between commercial interests and cultural preservation—or if it will take the loss of more historic structures before real change happens.



References


Australia ICOMOS Charter for Places of Cultural Significance 2013 The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for Places of Cultural Significance

Constitution of the People's Republic of Bangladesh 1972 The Constitution of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh

Harrison, R. 2013 Heritage: Critical Approaches Heritage: Critical Approaches book details

Smith, L. 2006 Uses of Heritage Uses of Heritage book details

The Daily Star 2017 Museum at Girish Chandra Sen's home opens in April HC imposes restriction on demolition of Khamarbari historic lab building

Wikipedia 2025a Momin Mosque Momin Mosque historical details

Wikipedia 2025b Rose Garden Palace Rose Garden Palace historical details

Wikipedia 2025c Jagadish Chandra Bose Jagadish Chandra Bose biography and legacy

Department of Archaeology Bangladesh official website Department of Archaeology official site