In Greek mythology the centaurus were barbarous beasts said to be half-horse and half-human. One centaurus, Chiron, was extremely wise and is said to have tutored Hercules and Jason (of the Argonauts). According to legend, Hercules inflicted an accidental wound upon his mentor that left the beast living but in great pain. Chiron begged and pleaded for the gods to end his suffering until finally, taking pity, Zeus mercifully let the beast die and gave him a place in the stars. Indeed, Centaurus the Centaur is considered the most magnificent of the southern constellations.
More recently, the spectre of a new centaurus has raised itself in the heart of our capital. Located on the corner of Jinnah and Faisal Avenues (for those who live in Islambad, it’s the huge hole in the ground at the western end of Blue Area), this centaurus is in the form of a property development envisioning high-rise luxury apartments, a business center and a shopping mall as well as “7-star star hotel.” Spread over 6.59 acres of prime real estate, the land for The Centaurus project is said to be the most expensive ever purchased in the history of Pakistan. And somehow, a photo of this mythical beast even graces the front page of the Economic Survey 2006-2007 published by the Finance Division of the Government of Pakistan.
Citizens of Islamabad, already in a state of alarm over the never-ending development projects being simultaneously undertaken in the city, are right to be concerned about this new development project. Some, no doubt in the wake of tragic earthquake of October 2005, are worried about the structural safety of such a high-rise construction in an area classified as Earthquake Zone IV. Some are worried that the traffic generated by this project will choke the main traffic arteries and some of the secondary and tertiary roads. Still more are worried about the effect this project will have on Islamabad’s water table. Others are concerned that the city’s infrastructure will not be able to cope with the demands of such a development. Some nearby residents are even concerned about the knock-on effect such a project will have on their neighborhoods and their homes. Clearly, an urban development project of this scale has adverse environmental effects.
Yet the manner in which the developers of this project, the Pak-Gulf Construction (Pvt) Ltd (PGCL), has carried out its responsibility to comply with our environmental protection laws leaves much to be desired. As if that weren’t enough, the Environment Protection Agency’s handling of this matter – on the eve of the 10th anniversary of the passing of the Pakistan Environmental Act, 1997 – is a stark reminder of the dismal enforcement record of our frontline environment protector and regulator. It’s as if the PEPA mandatory procedures didn’t exist or, if it did, didn’t matter. All this points to a grave misunderstanding of the nature and purpose of such a law and the procedures it lays out for anything that may harm the environment.
Conscientious citizens, led by Qazi Isa Daudpota, Helga Ahmed and others, wrote to Mr. Asif Shuja Khan, the Director-General of the EPA, making him aware of the serious environmental concerns raised by such a development as well as the fact that construction of The Centaurus began without the submission of an EIA and before a public hearing could be held (both punishable violations of the mandatory provisions of PEPA). For its part, the environmental regulator responded by issuing toothless reminders to the PGCL to comply with the law. The developers, in turn, engaged the services of Hagler Bailly which churned out an EIA report giving the project the green light it had been paid to do.
Some of the EIA report’s contents are quite revealing. For instance, it records that the CDA, in its agreement with PGCL, “shall at its own cost be responsible for providing all basic services such as electricity, gas, water, sewerage, drainage at the site of the Plot no later than the approval or deemed approval of the Plans or the Revised or Revised Plans as the case may be.” Such a concession may be a measure of the investor-friendly stance our government, but isn’t expecting the people of Islamabad to subsidize the infrastructure for the development a tall order? – which is what will happen when the CDA offsets the cost of providing The Centaurus utility infrastructure against the revenues it receives in the forms of fees and taxes.
While the EIA report considers The Centaurus an environmentally friendly prospect (and no doubt the EPA will approve the project – Qazi Isa Daudpota et al will continue to give it the scrutiny it deserves), the disclosures it makes raise questions about the decision making process that led to such a project being allowed in Islamabad in the first place. Indeed, there’s much to question about a mind that thinks a “7-star hotel” (whatever that is?) is a viable business proposition in a city which has seen a military operation and two bomb blasts in the last two months alone. Obviously, these minds are not familiar with the Ryugyong hotel in Pyongyang, North Korea.
Some say it was with stars in their eyes (other suspect it was one of those Cold-War type reactions to news that a South Korean firm had just constructed the Westin Stamford Hotel in Singapore) that the North Korean Government decided to build the world’s largest and tallest hotel. Construction began in 1987 at an estimated cost of $750 million, or 2% of the country’s GDP (for comparison, 2% of the US GDP would be about $220 billion). Indeed, the Ryugyong hotel undertaking was a massive undertaking for such a poor country.
When the basic cement structure was erected, the building measured in at nearly 1,110 feet and boasted 3.9 million square feet of floor space. The scale of the North Korean government’s mistaken belief in its ability to fill it can be estimated by the fact that, while the hotel was built with more than 3,000 rooms, at the time it was constructed only several hundred tourists visited the country. Yet so great was their belief in the hotel that – just as the cover of the last Economic Survey published by the Government of Pakistan carried an artist’s rendition of The Centaurus – it issued postage stamps with the hotel printed on them before the structure was complete.
Tragically, construction was halted in 1992. The North Korean Government (with stars in its eyes) just ran out of money. The structure has never been certified safe for habitation and not even the windows have been installed. Attempts to draw investment to complete the project have not worked either (the North Korean government even announced it would allow developers to use the building as “casinos, nightclubs or Japanese lounges . . .” if they agreed to complete it. To no avail: the skeleton of the structure casts its shadow over all of Pyongyang. It can literally be seen from every corner of the city and is a constant decaying reminder to the hubris that built it. Even the postage stamps have been declared invalid.
The Centaurus project also bristles with a contagious hubris of its own. Perhaps it will cloud the view from the site to the slums off F-7. So far, it has managed to convince the powers that be that it is a step in some imaginary right direction. One can only pray that this centaurus becomes all it promises to be, for if it isn’t, it will sit there, fouling the skyline of Islamabad and waiting for a Zeus to put it out of its misery.
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