Istanbul's spatial dynamics

Kees Christiaanse, Mark Michaeli and Tim Rieniets describe Istanbul’s evolving urban form and the proliferation of gated communities.

Suburban gated communities became a reality in Istanbul in the 1990s, increasingly rubbing against gecekondus and village-like neighbourhoods.

About 15 years ago, it was still possible to enjoy the bustling urbanity stemming from the mixtures of people, neighbourhoods and activities in Istanbul. Then, the flair of ancient Constantinople’s rich cultural diversity and proximity to the Asian continent was abundant. Today these characteristics are threatened by a wave of technology and modernisation. On the one hand this shows the emancipation and economic prosperity Turkey has achieved, but it has also introduced global structural challenges regarding mobility, urban renewal, social stratification and sprawl, as well as spatial and functional segregation at an unprecedented scale.

Over the past few decades, for example, an explosion of car ownership resulting from Istanbul’s new prosperity has put severe pressure on the city’s road system and has increased air pollution. This has happened at the same time as investments in public transport have lagged. Although the city introduced a new underground train running East to West along the coast under the Bosporus, as well as a Bus Rapid Transit line (BRT) along the urban motorways, traffic congestion is expected to reach paralysing levels over the next few years. This will no doubt cause considerable economic damage since traffic congestion hinders the flow of people, goods and information. And scale is certainly an issue. At times Istanbul’s congestion problem seems to be almost as bad as that of São Paulo or Jakarta. In today’s emerging modern society cars continue to be status symbols. Equipped with air-conditioning, a telephone and sophisticated computers, driving a car is like riding in a comfortable spaceship of clean air surrounded by a toxic universe outside. In Istanbul, the desire to own a car is further exacerbated by the sprawl of urban development extending beyond the Bosporus – with villages turned into larger suburbs, commuting times are rising rapidly.

The Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality has acknowledged that a proper system of public transport constitutes, like in every city, the only solution to counter this massive threat to mobility. At the same time, they have planned motorways, widened roads and introduced new traffic lanes that could create further divisions and destroy the city’s delicate and subtle neighbourhood structure. In response to complaints about the inaccessibility for emergency vehicles, the imminent collapse of buildings by earthquakes and the poor housing conditions of older developments, new neighbourhoods consisting of large super blocks with high-rise apartment towers, green spaces and parking facilities are being planned to substitute the existing ones. As a result, old, finely-meshed street patterns of the Gecekondu and yap-sat districts, with their intricate social and micro-economic structures, their vibrant street activities and their small-scale character, are being replaced by anonymous housing projects that could be anywhere in the world. The resulting functional segregation does not allow for small-scale economic improvisation and investment, one of the lifelines of Istanbul’s poor. What is worse, large numbers of the city’s diverse population are forced to travel considerable distances for even basic needs, further compromising mobility on all levels.

Gated communities emerged in Turkey in the 1980s, and have become the most important project of urban transformation and expansion in the city. Driven by an increasingly powerful real estate market, the phenomenon is tolerated by politics and planning, and is widely accepted by the public. This process is not only changing urban and architectural patterns in the city; equally important – but less understood – are the implications on the social and economic structures at the neighbourhood level.

Göktürk, a former agricultural village surrounded by state-owned forest and military sites in the North-West of Istanbul, represents a pioneer of this mode of development. In the 1990s real estate developers discovered the area’s potential for high-end housing developments. Since then, more than 30 gated communities have been constructed in close proximity. This has resulted in a population increase from 1,500 in 1993 to approximately 20,000 in 2008, as well as higher land prices. But it has also dissected Göktürk into fragments: what was once a village has been turned into an island among islands. And yet, although segregation seems to be the dominant pattern of Göktürk’s urban trajectory, integration is also taking place. A thin but indispensable network of economic, social and cultural encounters connects Göktürk’s seemingly separated fragments into an integrated economic whole. Outnumbered, the remaining villagers now benefit from opportunities in the gated community’s emerging service sector. They are employed as gardeners, housekeepers or nannies, and enjoy regular access to the everyday life of an elite otherwise behind closed walls. This economic boom, it would seem, has allowed individual benefits to overshadow the negative consequences of segregation.

A growing awareness about the scarcity of Istanbul’s natural resources, however, has sparked criticism about the unsustainable character of suburban developments such as Göktürk. In response, new planning guidelines are restricting the proliferation of gated communities on the outskirts of the city. At the same time, enormous regeneration projects in the inner city are making way for new large-scale developments in Istanbul’s historic centre. The recently adapted Law 5366, aimed at ensuring the sustained use and protection of deteriorated historical and cultural monuments and structures through their renewal and reuse, will allow for the vast expropriation and replacement of illegally constructed and inhabited buildings in Istanbul. In late 2007 the Turkish Daily News named 48 areas declared as regeneration projects in the city, a scale involving the demolition of 1 million buildings and repairs on another 200,000. Thus, instead of building exclusive urban exclaves on the city’s outskirts, an increasing number will be built inside the city: islands for upper-class housing, modern office space and commercial enterprises.

Despite this trend, the traditionally small-scale entrepreneurial spirit and structure of Istanbul offers an alternative in the form of street guilds and bazaars specialising in particular types of goods. This concentration of goods brings with it a competition among sellers to differentiate themselves and their products; competitors concentrated together thus creates an orientation towards the public spaces – and greater visibility – in front of the buildings, pushing commercial activity onto the sidewalks and into the city’s street. This spatial condition emphasises mobility of people and goods and leads to a series of casual exchanges whereby the built structures accommodating these exchanges serve solely as a conduit for economic processes.

This contrasts to shopping centres and gated communities, which represent an entirely different concept of the city and the goods and experiences it produces. Precisely tailored to the specific needs of a limited user group, each contradicts the uncertainties, ambiguities and openness that define urban life. As secluded islands they orient themselves in opposition to the small-scale entrepreneurial structure. Turning the spatial code of the city inside out, instead of maximising coherence and permeability within a specific urban enclave, shopping centres and gated communities minimise points of intersection and operate in isolation. Chance encounters and the unexpected are substituted by organised events at a distinct destination. Instead of the buzz of urban life generated by active street fronts, the focus is on convenience and composed interior spaces. The result is urban space based on concepts of idleness and exclusion instead of integration into the dynamics of the city and its economy.

Istanbul, like any global city, cannot deny those who prefer to remove themselves from the urban economy through segregation; doing so would only curtail the flow of required investment in redevelopment and urban change. The negative consequence is thus unavoidable, even if it seems obvious: while isolated islands use investment capital from the city to hide themselves in ever-more grandiose stage-set-like pieces of architecture, the city fades into the background, and the real urban complexity dwindles.