The Kigali story, the Singapore model, and rights to the city

IF 1.1 2区 社会学 Q2 ANTHROPOLOGY
Michael M.J. Fischer
{"title":"The Kigali story, the Singapore model, and rights to the city","authors":"Michael M.J. Fischer","doi":"10.1111/1467-9655.14308","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"<p>Three recent ethnographies of Kigali's urban planning and development provide a welcome addition to a long tradition of such ethnographies, including Lisa Redfield Peattie's famous fieldwork in the planning of Ciudad Guayana (<span>1968</span>; <span>1987</span>), Grace Goodell's ethnographic account of the disjunction between planning offices in Tehran and the urban settlements (<i>sharaks</i>) of the Khuzistan Development Project modelled on the Tennessee Vally Authority (<span>1986</span>), and Gökce Günel's ethnographic analysis of the disjunction between plans for, and implementation of, Mazdar City and Mazdar Institute in Abu Dhabi (<span>2019</span>).</p><p>Kigali, often dubbed ‘the African Singapore’, provides a model for thinking about new urban formations in Africa and elsewhere (see Pype, Adunbe &amp; Fischer <span>2025</span>), the circulation of planning consultancies, and the key social issues of dealing with informal settlements, overcrowding, and rights to the city. Having worked in Singapore for the past decade or so, I was long interested in the claim of the Singapore consultancy, and town planning agency within Singapore (Surbana), to have provided the planning for Kigali as well as a number of other cities in Africa. It was one of several initiatives to sell Singapore's expertise (industrial parks in China; port management in Turkey). A two-week intensive visit to Rwanda, including to its new district hospital and University of Global Health Equity in Butaro, a poor region of the north – both initiatives of the anthropologist Paul Farmer and Partners in Health – in the company of Dr. Aalyia Sadruddin (a long-time ethnographer in Rwanda whose network gave access to several of Rwanda's strategists), enhanced my desire to further ‘read for the ethnography’.</p><p>‘Reading for the ethnography’ is my slogan for creating a detailed empirical basis for theory building, evaluation of ethnographic writing, cultural critique, and the transnational circuitry of post-globalization. Reading for the ethnography is the ‘ground-truthing’, or finer grained precision, of claims of theory, just as aerial photography requires on-the-ground verification and often alternative understandings: What is the evidence? How well does the text demonstrate linguistic and cultural competence in eliciting emic accounts? Are there other accounts in the literature, other histories of the specific places, or alternative explanations? In the present comparison of three ethnographies of the same city and administrative structures, I pay attention to the ethnographic facts that each adduces that I can use to create a mosaic understanding of different parts of the city, different local histories of settlement and redevelopment, and different evolving plans versus local resistance or counter-movements of residents, and how the interlocutors and informants evaluate, complain, or take advantage of changing effects of city planners, global financing, and of organic incremental growth and ad hoc solutions.</p><p>The three ethnographies are not quite like the elephant and the three blind men, but they present remarkably different accountings of how, where, and when things happened, even if at some points they draw upon similar generalizing language about financial and administrative logics and forces. I am interested in the way their empirical ethnographic materials complement each other to create a baseline for further inquiry – on Kigali, but <i>also</i> for comparative work across cities that face similar (but locally different) problems. I emphasize the ethnographic history of Singapore itself to counter the cliches, again looking for the precise ethnographic and historical evolutions in its experience, and the role of the Surbana town planning consultancy in Singapore and as it attempts to sell its experiences and expertise elsewhere. Writing about Kigali in transition must negotiate visionary ambitions and promissory publicity together with ‘ground truthing’, tracking emergent forms of social organization and struggles for rights to the city, along with gender relations, and visions of the good life.</p><p>The three ethnographies proved to be quite different in focus and evidentiary basis. Stephan Bock embedded himself in the urban planning ministries of Rwanda, and at the Surbana consultancy offices in Singapore, to examine the role of Surbana's master plans and building regulations for Kigali. Samuel Shearer embedded himself in the street vendor markets and informal settlements looking to how their residents try ‘to defend their collective resources against the liquidating processes of speculative urbanism’ (p. 5). Shakira Hudani focuses on three types of resettlement areas to which people evicted from informal settlements are moved. As the terms ‘master plans’ and ‘speculative urbanism’ indicate, the forces are not merely local or contained within nation-states, but are imaginaries and financial forces circulating the globe.</p><p>Kigali, Shearer suggests, has joined Singapore to be ‘on the forefront in a revolution of how cities are managed, lived, and imagined everywhere’ (p. 5). But Shearer is also an excellent guide to resistance and pushback from the people being managed. He takes a critical view of the master plan process ‘written by consultants in Singapore, funded by multinational investment corporations, to be exported from Kigali’ (p. 5). The ‘world class city’ for him does not actually produce the built environment it promises, but, ‘by activating global networks of capital and expertise with a compelling visual narrative about a city's future potential’, subverts the tactics available for use by the less advantaged city residents to have a stake in the city (p. 5). He claims the ‘international team of managers and consultants have “liberated” planning from the political and economic relations that paralyze planners in other cities’ (p. 5). His own excellent ethnography shows otherwise, or at least that it is not the whole story. Following Michael Goldman (<span>2011</span>), he asserts that the goals of ‘speculative urbanism’ are to create real estate investment opportunities. But, as Bock points out, money is required to build a city, and money-strapped Rwanda needed private-public investment to generate urban budgets but also ways to extract money from, and give ownership to, its own population.</p><p>As Beng-Huat Chua, Singapore's leading sociologist and loyal critic, demonstrates, the housing mechanism in Singapore <i>built the state</i> through forced savings that the state could then leverage (Chua <span>2024</span>). Rwanda, too, has a state mechanism to shape investment and growth: the national pension program (eligibility is paid contributions for fifteen years). Construction, in large part, is financed by three state-connected funds (Goodfellow &amp; Smith <span>2013</span>). Rwanda's political-administrative structure of districts, sectors, cells, <i>imidugudu</i> (the smallest formal unit of a hundred or so households) and an informal <i>nyumbacumi</i> (person overseeing ten households) is analogous to the organization of Singapore's People's Action Party's voluntary organizations and community centres built into housing estates (though not down to the same formal degree of ten households). Goodfellow and Smith provide an overview of the struggle to organize the city of Kigali between 1994 and 2000, and to prevent the race riots that Singapore experienced in its early days of independence and government consolidation.</p><p>What is often called the ‘Singapore model’ is just one element of planning and design in a complex process of ‘from third world to first in one generation’ (in Lee Kuan Yew's famous tag line for ‘the Singapore Story’) or from low-income to middle-income country (in Paul Kagame's). Shearer, while criticizing aspects of Singapore's consultancy in Kigali notes that the whole idea was that the plan should pay for itself by attracting foreign capital. Furthermore, ‘what is called the Singapore model’ is ‘not because it follows that city's transformation, but because it conjures an idea of what global “city-ness” should look like, with Singapore as a reference’ (p. 131). The conjuring, he says, is ‘what Surbana sells’. It has sold ninety master plan projects in thirty countries mainly in Asia and Africa. These are promissory visions, and become integrated as one layer in cascades of implementation, with all the contingencies, blockages, and redesign involved. ‘Participatory planning’ is a buzz-word component (one that Lisa Redfield Peattie championed) but that Shearer points out in Rwanda today is often really participatory expropriation, letting coops and associations ‘purchase their own property and take out loans to develop that property’, often against the will (or lack of choice) of the participants (p. 139); a harsher version of the ‘forced savings’ that Beng-Huat Chua describes for Singapore.</p><p>So how did this process get started? Here Bock is helpful. Pundits, Bock says, regularly give Rwanda good marks for economic development and bad marks for authoritarianism and human rights violations. But such binaries, he argues ‘do not help to disentangle the complexity of relations and interactions’. He calls for multi-locale and multi-scalar ethnographic approaches. He watched Kigali develop from 2006 when there were only a few hotels and government buildings taller than a single storey, no traffic lights, and only mini-buses for public transportation. By 2011 there were cleared areas waiting for redevelopment, traffic lights, and larger buses.</p><p>In the immediate post-genocide years, emergency attention had to be given to cleaning up the city, disposing of the corpses, providing physical and food security, aiding orphans, and receiving waves of returning refugees and rural-to-urban migrants. There is an inexact parallel to the early post-World War II situation of Singapore, where both urban slums that grew during the war, and village kampongs, were cleared, and people were moved into high-rise apartment buildings. Kigali had World Bank ‘Tent, Temporary, Permanent Refugee’ and ‘Urban Infrastructure and City Management’ programmes, a UNDP cadastral information system, as well as preliminary city master plan efforts for a master plan with some advisors from the United States and Israel.</p><p>The first Kigali Conceptual Master Plan was produced by the Denver-based consultancy OZ Architecture in 2005–7. Singapore's Surbana was hired in 2008 to do a fuller master plan, and in 2015 <i>The Economist</i> dubbed Kigali ‘Africa's Singapore’. Kigali was, as Bock puts it, tidy and secure, with a well-run appearance, daily street cleaners, prohibition of begging, and banishment of plastic bags. Shearer is nostalgic for the earlier plan. Both he and Bock credit OZ with doing real site visits, walking the land, holding focus groups with residents, and building a qualitative database. They acknowledge that OZ had little to work with: there were no real maps, useful photographs, or documentation (whatever might have existed had been destroyed in the fighting in 1994 and the hurried exit of the previous administration). OZ developed a concept of ‘polycentric, semi-autonomous, mixed-use urban clusters, branching out from a public market and plaza’ into residences, health and education facilities with community gardens and greenbelts (Shearer, p. 125). They tried to expand on the existing informal settlement patterns, viewing the markets as assets to be maintained (traders and cooperatives paid taxes), and primarily recommending the settlements needed better infrastructure and land use regulations.</p><p>But a master plan is not just a blueprint: it is a tool to attract investors. OZ suggested a new city centre, did some detailed planning for four priority areas, and developed building standards. In 2009 an employee of OZ became head of Kigali's Urban Planning Department. But how to raise financing? Bock says references to Singapore kept coming up, and in 2008 visits were made to Singapore, Vietnam, and South Korea. In 2011, Surbana won the tender for detailed planning of Kigali's Gasabo and Kicukiro Districts. A Surbana office was established within the Kigali planning department (the One Stop Center). Surbana promoted branding districts of Kigali in order to make it possible to visualize the plans and make them comprehensible to the wider public. This involved an inspection department (someone to show up on site), awareness programmes (often cast as ‘participatory planning’), and setting up a way for land owners to send SMS inquiries from their phones to see where their plot would be zoned in the master plan. Planners were open about the lag in producing the estimated 33,000 units of housing needed per year (only 6,000 built), and that investments naturally flowed into commercial space or higher end housing rather than affordable housing.1</p><p>Beng-Huat Chua, in ‘Singapore as model’ (<span>2011</span>), warns that the model cannot simply be transferred elsewhere, only relevant elements can be. The Singapore government owns 90 per cent of the land, and could do comprehensive planning, and with a good education system, Singapore could radically increase wages in the mid-1980s forcing labour-intensive manufacturing to exit, or invest in higher tech. After the 1997 Asian financial crisis, this shift intensified to support ‘knowledge-based industries’ (finance, biosciences, pharmaceuticals). Surbana Urban Planning Group, as noted above, claims to have designed over 500 planning projects in thirty countries (in South and Southeast Asia, Africa, and Arabia). In Singapore it has helped create twenty-six comprehensively planned townships of over a million homes.</p><p>In Rwanda, the structure of the political economy was transformed from the agrarian Belgian colonial one, in which the peasants were given fixed amounts of land with contracts specifying the agricultural techniques to be used and production targets. Identity-cards, resident and work permits were issued, not unlike the Chinese <i>hukou</i> system, and <i>ujamaa</i> under Julius Nyerere in Tanzania. Under President Juvénal Habyarimana, the one-party state became increasingly totalitarian: migration to the city was not allowed; people found outside their communes were returned. Bock says 80,000 peasant households were resettled in uncultivated lands to expand production, subsequently requiring restoration by anti-erosion campaigns. Peasants were to produce export crops (tea and coffee). But in the late 1980s and early 1990s, global coffee and tea prices collapsed, and food security became a crisis. Pritish Behuria (<span>2020</span>) provides an overview, noting that in 1991 the World Bank and international aid shifted from supporting self-sufficient peasants, to calling for the free movement of labour and the development of market economies. For coffee, this meant moving up the value chain with specialty coffees, coffee bean washing, and alliances with international fair trade and branded corporate retailers.</p><p>Bock cites a 1996 Rwandan government declaration, ‘In a small country such as ours, without natural resources, the only viable option … is that of a dynamic private sector that can begin and sustain the economic diversification process’. Despite some longer-term budget support from the World Bank and IMF, the key issue was low capacity, especially as much of the 30-50-year-old generation was gone (evident still today in the very young high-level officials). And so, a key focus was to use international consultants for policy and regulations, but following Singapore, with an insistence that Rwandans had to become active participants in the planning processes, not just recipients of expertise.</p><p>Paul Kagame, officially elected President in 2003, had already been convening a series of meetings to plan the development of the country from low- to middle-income status by 2020 (‘Vision 2020’). Already, in 2000, a Rwandan team went to Harvard to learn about challenges of decentralization. A Poverty-Reduction Strategy Paper (2002) was used to qualify Rwanda for concessional debt relief from the World Bank, which also suggested learning from East Asian countries to create a globally competitive knowledge-based economy. The Rwanda Development Board (along the lines of the Economic Development Board of Singapore) was set up to serve as a ‘one-stop centre’ for investors, raising Rwanda's standing in the global ‘ease of doing business’ ratings, the context for <i>The Economist</i> dubbing Rwanda ‘Africa's Singapore’. The second five-year Economic Development and Poverty Reduction Strategy for 2013-18 focused on hiring experts to mentor Rwandan counterparts, and to focus on urban land use and master plans.</p><p>Hudani argues that the planning apparatus of a developmental state is fundamentally opposed to a politics of inclusiveness, social justice issues of rights to the city, and incremental repair of physical and social habitat. She argues that one best understands Rwanda as a biopolitics of urban elites exercising control over the rural majority. This was the case in colonial times when the Belgians used Tutsi elites in a mode of indirect rule, and again today with the return of educated Tutsi and Hutu refugees (from violence in 1958, 1972, and 1994). Hudani's strong biopolitical claims depend upon her case studies of three different neighbourhoods and types of development (described below).</p><p>Shearer cites Henri Lefebvre's notion that three urban elements are always disrupting each other, ‘stitching, stretching, and ripping the urban fabric’: techno-centric planning, dissolution of the old built environment, and social practices (Shearer, p. 151). Rwandan scholars have studied the spatial injustice of urban renewal, using Google Maps and remote visual recognition tools to estimate wealth, parcel size, and housing quality. Many of these technical papers are heavy on statistical measures applied to inadequate data sets, with relatively minimal on-the-ground discussion with the people affected. Ethnographic ‘ground-truthing’ could help improve such exercises in conjunction with remote sensing data.</p><p>Missing in all three ethnographies, but central to the Singapore model, are accounts of scholarships to universities abroad as part of a national agenda to upgrade human capital. From 2000, Singapore funded 1,200 top students for PhDs and postdoctoral training at top universities abroad; and fast-tracked returnees up the ranks of the civil service or fostered starting their own research labs. Universities have been upgraded to world-ranked research institutions, a number of research institutes (Agency for Science, Technology and Research [A*STAR]) have been lavishly funded to kick-start science and technology research and development, along with inviting multinational investment. Rwanda is beginning to follow suit. The new Butaro District Hospital and associated University of Global Health Equity (UGHE), in collaboration with Boston-based Partners-in-Health and the Harvard Medical School, is intended to provide medical training for physicians and health care practitioners across the African continent. Its modern facilities, like the modern Faculty of Architecture and Environmental Design of the University of Rwanda in Kigali, were built with local materials, labour and attention to the environmental setting. Kigali's SEZ (special economic zone) hosts the inaugural site for BioNTech (one of the breakthrough innovators of the vaccine against COVID-19) to establish an mRNA vaccine research and development facility, to provide vaccines for countries in the African Union, the first such facility on the African continent (BioNTech <span>2023<i>a</i></span>; <span>2023<i>b</i></span>; Kansteiner <span>2024</span>; Pharmaceutical Technology <span>2024</span>). Missing also – part of the conditions of possibility but peripheral to the focus on the internal urban planning – are external sources of funding. For Singapore, this includes the offshore oil refineries on Jurong Island, and industrial parks on Batam island (Indonesia) and in Johur (Malaysia). There was once an ambitious tri-state cross-border economic zone, an ambitious plan promoted by President B.J. Habibie of Indonesia (Peachey, Perry &amp; Grundy-Warr <span>1998</span>). For Rwanda, it includes the minerals extracted from eastern Congo through Rwandan-supported guerillas, and perhaps the peacekeepers it has deployed through the United Nations.</p><p>Urban ethnographies attempting to characterize emergent forms of social organization, imaginaries, and struggles for rights to the city, require a sense of historical trajectories. Gender relations are a theme and history that needs further excavation. Both Shearer's account of women street traders and heads of households, and also McMillin's (<span>2014</span>) recognition of an older East African pattern of women-led ‘possession cults’ that challenge patriarchy and forms of male power, are beginnings. For the educated middle classes, Rwanda has the distinction of more women in parliament than any other country, as well as a number of government ministers.</p><p>Shearer, a fluent Kinyarwanda speaker, begins with a lively anecdote of rock throwing by a local crowd at police, labourers and guards, who were sent to prevent locals from rebuilding a recently demolished house, owned by a woman street vendor, who couldn't afford to pay a bribe to her local ‘cell’ or community executive. Bribes (<i>akantu</i>, ‘a little something’) are tokens to keep exchanges and favours flowing, but, in this case, not only was the ask too much, but the executive invoked the city's master plan, which marked her house and the area for eventual demolition. The crowd not only confronted the demolition, but called a popular radio talk show as the events were happening. To add insult, the crowd chanted loudly the ‘patriotic’ work song, <i>tuzarwubaka</i>, used during weekly compulsory community service (<i>umuganda</i>).</p><p>Street vending, the livelihood of the house owner, is a subsistence strategy of women who peddle produce and ‘used’ clothing. They sell smaller units of produce that they have bought, or gained on credit, from shopkeepers or wholesalers, and thus make marginal amounts on the difference in price. Garments travel the world in large, 45 kg bundles, and are locally unbundled and sold as individual items in auctions. They are then mended or inventively refashioned piece by piece, and rebranded as ‘international’ (<i>mpuzamuhanga</i>) rather than as ‘used’, ‘seconds’, or ‘cast offs’. They are called <i>caguwa</i>. Local fashion is invented in this way. <i>Caguwa</i> is more than ‘fakes’ (for which there is also a market), or ‘used’. <i>Caguwa</i> employs thousands of <i>abaozi</i> (tailors), organized into sewing cooperatives, using pump sewing machines, coal irons, and stacks of replacement patches and labels, ‘mending, working stains and switching brand name tags’ (Shearer, p. 98). The street traders have their own pooling cooperatives, so each week or month someone gets to use the entire pool to pay down debts, buy something, etc. Many are single mothers, share child care with each other, and often live without men. Other modes of making a small living include sanitation cooperatives and companies (often owned by the army) that pay less than US$1.50/day, or slightly more for waste collectors and sorters (US$2/day); in the 2020s some machines for sorting were introduced.</p><p>Returning to the vignette, Shearer says, ‘The narrative of Kigali as an ordered state with a docile population, broke down, showing that the production and occupation of space is fiercely contested’ (p. 98). The police calmed the situation, took the radio station off air, and websites off line. The police convinced everyone to sit down for a meeting, arrested four, jailed them for a few days, and then quietly let them go.</p><p>For the city, street vendors, <i>akajagari</i> spaces, informal settlements, and underemployed young men are problematic morally (disordered, unhygienic), financially (not providing a tax base), and technically (on unsustainable slopes and wetlands). For Shearer, the vignette illustrates that ‘at stake for urban residents in the twenty-first century metropolis is how to defend collective resources against the liquidating processes of speculative urbanism’ (p. 24). Shearer provides ‘before and after’ satellite photographs of two razed <i>akajagari</i> informal settlements (‘slums’) where in July 2008 thousands of homes were demolished and looted by the soldiers and workers. The National Pension Fund had distributed compensation notifications to landowners, but only for the buildings, not the land, which it said belonged to the state. When the demolition bulldozers and work gangs came, people banged pots to alert others to save what they could. The residents also hired their own surveyors to appeal the inadequate compensation. Many families were just loaded onto trucks and taken to a new housing village (Batsinda) owned by the pension fund.</p><p>Shearer's ethnographic ear is powerful: none of the districts or neighborhoods of Kigali are called by their official names, but by names of war zones, other famous informal settlements (or slums), or are descriptively dismissive: Kosovo, Bannyahe (‘where do we piss or shit?’), Karabaye (‘[bad] things happen there’), Sodoma (Sodom and Gomorrah, in Accra, in the Bible), Dobandi (from French <i>des bandits</i>, i.e. gangster-ville), N'Djamena (in Chad), Kabakene (‘for poor people’). Shearer is nostalgic for the now razed Kiyovu cy'abaken and Kimicanga, which he says by the 1970s had become thriving cosmopolitan centres. Even though he agrees the one-party development state of Habyarimana was oppressive for most of the rural population, the middle and upper classes could live well from the booming coffee and tea economy, with foreign cars, fancy clothes, and electronics, and a music scene of rumba, reggae, igisope, and rhythm and blues. In 1989 the coffee prices crashed. In 1990 the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) invaded from Uganda. The airwaves were taken over by anti-RPF, anti-Tutsi, state-sponsored propaganda. It was, Shearer says, the ‘evacuation of the world’: Indian and Omani traders left for Tanzania, and many ‘walked away from the city to wait out the war’, some going to the Congo where Mubutu welcomed them as a potential force to use against the RPF (p. 95). Shearer celebrates the ‘street festival atmosphere’ of the illegal street traders and vendors, but he is under no illusions that their various tactics of occupying space and oppositional gestures are a real alternative politics. He describes the demolition in 2014 of the Nyabugogo market built in 1977, and of other such market buildings, in an attempt to move vendors into new shopping malls in spaces away from their supporting populations, and designed more for showing off commodities than helping small businesses thrive.</p><p>In a final ethnographic chapter, he describes the corruption of the effort to provide water uphill to informal settlements such as Muganza on Mt. Kigali. Pipes, promised by a public-private scheme (the German utility Lahmeyer, contracted by the World Bank to privatize the Rwanda utility Electrogaz), never arrived, although the residents dug the ditches for the pipes. (The state cancelled the Lahmeyer contract and re-nationalized the utility.) Water infrastructure problems also exist further downhill, where residents have to descend to the wetlands and marshes for water. The dilemmas of capital costs for populations that can provide no tax base is not unique to Rwanda. Shearer at one point, in frustration, says that urban development in Kigali seems ‘less about social improvement and more about [rendering] a rural society governable by a predominantly urban, authoritarian, ethnically minority elite’ (p. 16) and that this elite has enough political and financial resources (in their transnational network of managers and consultants) to steamroll any attempt to block their speculative urbanism (p. 23). Indeed, he asks: how could a world-class city be designed and built within the limits of municipal finances?</p><p>Hudani provides case studies of three types of strategies to relocate people from informal settlements to make way for new development: (1) <i>eviction</i> to a new housing complex (Bannyahe); (2) an <i>urban finance frontier</i> (Bugesera), attracting capitalist investment at the expense of working-class or informal settlement residents; and (3) <i>model green village</i> (Rweru, a form of ‘villagization’ and deurbanization). She shows the march of calculations (rents, agricultural prices, time and labour costs, space metrics needed for urban habitation, made smaller and smaller as apartment blocks replace self-built houses with plots for growing food and raising animals) and the metrics of competitions among countries, cities, and districts, seeking capital, credit, and investment.</p><p>(1) <i>Eviction</i>. Situated on a steep gradient that the master plans designate ‘high-risk zones’, residents of Bannyahe were forbidden to upgrade or rehabilitate their houses, which they had built over time from bits of wood, then improved with dried mud brick and then with terracotta brick, as they waited for the state to evict them and offer them resettlement options: to relocate to a newly built housing estate (Batsinda) or accept a monetary settlement according to, increasingly contested, bureaucratic evaluations of their houses and land. Neither was really acceptable. The new apartments were small and the unit cost was far above the offered compensation. They could not get acceptable loan terms from the Rwanda Housing Bank (imagined by the planners), because it would not accept as collateral land titles or houses about to be razed (new housing construction not keeping pace with evictions). And they were being offered three-storey vertical mass housing in exchange for first floor houses with gardens. Many people owned multiple houses that provided rent that would be lost in the proposed resettlement. Bannyahe was earmarked for a ‘$56 million development by a Rwandan-Finnish investment consortium’. A total of 728 property owners objected. Two hundred sued in court for a fair monetary settlement (not the new apartments). They lost. They began to tear down their own houses in defiance, a form of anger that also happened in the countryside when the state tried to organize rural populations into group settlement schemes (<i>imidugudu</i>), and imposed new building code regulations, such as requiring metal roofs instead of traditional thatch. The residents of Bannyahe protested the absence of urban services in Bannyahe as abandonment by the state, using the same term <i>akajagari</i> that the upper classes used against them. <i>Akajagari</i> is unruly, disordered from the latter's perspective, and abandoned to self-help from the other. As Hudani puts it, ‘the transgressive political order that underlies Kigali's clean façade’ is achieved by the use of the state apparatus of security to give an appearance of order. Her chapter is titled, ‘Political abandonment’, that is, the ‘abandonment of promises of <i>urban inclusion</i> and <i>right to the city</i>’. Rather than upgrading informal settlements with infrastructure (municipal water, electricity, and sanitation), as in Istanbul's <i>gecekondu</i> and in other cities in which squatting and informal building led to political pressure for services and incorporation into the city, here, Hudani says, the master plan re-zones the informal settlement for investment by transnational capital.</p><p>Hudani describes Bannyahe as grown to over 1,600 households, the main market street at the top, and steep inclines towards the bottom where wetlands supplied water when uphill taps ran dry, where there were smaller market streets, and where Pentecostal and Protestant churches and some cooperatives provided a social fabric of collective life. As refugees returned, pressure built to reclaim property, leading to disputes over land.</p><p>(2) <i>The urban finance frontier of</i> Bugesera District lies just beyond the Nyabarongo river and the swamps surrounding it, marking the boundary of Kigali, and near where many bodies of the 1994 massacre were dumped. It has now become a new zone of capitalist investment. In the 1960s the Belgians moved Tutsi pastoralists from the Northern Province and elsewhere to these tsetse-infested low-lying marshlands, and tried to get Hutu to work as <i>paysannat</i>, the French term for land settlement schemes. Two of the churches (in Nyamata and Ntarama), where 10,000 and 6,000 Tutsi, respectively, were killed, are now genocide memorials. Hudani says that the intensity of the genocide massacres in Bugesera in 1994 indexed the large number of Tutsi relocated from elsewhere.</p><p>Today Bugesera District is an urban frontier, a zone of new investment, anchored by a planned new thirteen-billion-dollar international airport in Kanombe (60 per cent financed by Qatar Airways, with a projected capacity of serving 14 million passengers by 2032), as well as a new agricultural and technical university (in a government partnership with Warren Buffett who bought and donated the land), industrial zones, a bulk water supply facility, and a Chinese-built highway. The airport and other new constructions are regulated by the Green Mark Rating System of the Singapore Building Control Authority (BCA). The land on the way to the airport is being bought up by investors, recognizing it will rise in value. A One Stop Center (OSC) here, and in six other model cities, where all permits and administrative transactions can be done, has been established to speed up this development. OSCs also help create competition between districts, cities, and countries to attract investment, using the World Bank's performance-based ranking index of cities (aggregated time saved in investment and business processes). Rwanda is vying to be ranked among the easiest places to do business.</p><p>The 2012 decentralization policy was intended to increase competition over performance among districts, and institute more stringent regulations. District governments were mandated to hire twenty-four-hour cleaning services and rubbish removal on three-year contracts. Hygiene patrols (<i>isoku irondo</i>) provided oversight and enforcement. Hudani says there are over 13,000 workers (often poorly paid women) hired by 135 sanitation companies, operated and subsidized by the national defence forces, as well as local monthly communal labour (<i>umuganda</i>) groups. There are competitions (<i>isuku</i>, ‘order creation’) among districts (disciplined by <i>imihigo</i>, ‘vows to deliver’) announced on television, with performance score cards – to monitor target setting and delivery. Communal labour, Hudani notes, called ‘volunteering’, and ‘even quantified by the International Labor Organization’, is touted by cities to attract investment. Hudani says the urban poor are increasingly moved around from place to place in <i>waves of dislocation and dispossession</i>. Those who cannot comply with new building standards and sanitation codes are evicted, paralleling the rural poor whose land is collectivized and freed up for commercial agriculture or for conservation, and are resettled in new housing schemes (<i>imidugudu</i>) and green villages.</p><p>(3) The third strategy of removal is the <i>model green village</i>. Rweru was established in 2017 as part of a Rural Integrated Development Program (IDP). Rweru at first housed 144 families, later another 140 families, in clusters of four units (sharing a latrine and biogas digester), built of red brick with metal roofs. Funded by the UNDP's program ‘Ecosystems/Landscape approach to climate proof the Rural Settlement Program of Rwanda’, 416 such villages were to be built by 2024. Rweru is the show village that investors and foreign dignitaries are taken to see. Hudani calls it a Potemkin village. Villagers complain: the biogas isn't working; rainwater harvesting is not effective; the land is too small to grow crops; those resettled from lake islands complain they cannot farm or fish enough for their food needs and cannot easily leave to earn money.</p><p>‘Villagization’ was originally a rural resettlement programme for returning refugees. It was later justified as being a more rational means of crop production, supported by external funders, and modelled on programmes elsewhere, especially Julius Nyerere's <i>ujamaa</i> collectivized or co-operatized villages in Tanzania in the 1970s, putting row houses in the centre and agricultural land around it. Uganda and Ethiopia had similar schemes, as did South Korea under Park Chung-hee's development state (1963-79). In 2006, Hudani reports, South Korea's Saemaul Undong (SMU) or New Village Movement was introduced to Rwanda and eight other African countries. The promise was to promote self-sufficiency, productivity, popular participation in infrastructure management, discipline (diligence, self-help, cooperation), and integration of people from different places (at scale). In 2001 Human Rights Watch reported that between 1997 and 1999, a million people (225,000 households) were moved to <i>imidugudu</i> (collective villages) to bring the scattered population into more concentrated forms, and to break apart the social organizations of rural society (which Hudani says contributed to the genocide, but which she also suggests could support resistance to state planning). Especially after 1998, Hudani states that ‘many Rwandans experienced forced resettlement, and were coerced to destroy their own homes and relocate to sparsely inhabited <i>imidugudu</i> settlement areas’, where building materials rapidly became in short supply. The habitation/resettlement policy addressed the complexity of rival claims to houses and land in <i>gacaca</i> court disputes by moving people (willingly or not) into <i>imidugudu</i> villages. She is not clear, but it seems the green model village programme is an effort to re-imagine the earlier <i>imidugudu</i>, adding climate and ecological considerations (and metrics) to earlier collectivization.</p><p>Given these three examples, it is also not clear how the goals of urbanization are aligned. Hudani says Rwanda seeks a 35 per cent urbanization rate by 2024, up from 18-20 per cent. The scale of the problems <i>is</i> daunting: she claims that in 2007 60 per cent of the Rwandan population lived in extreme poverty, and 35 per cent were under-nourished.</p><p>The importance of Bock, Shearer, and Hudani's fieldwork reveals, as actionable and simultaneous, a multiple-fold helix of needs and processes in everyday urban negotiations, mobilizing citizen, as well as political will, beyond any simple technological, political, or economic fix.2 Singapore's Surbana was indeed important to Kigali, and Singapore remains an important referent: in planning, in provision of urban services, in education, in attracting foreign investment, and in deft use of branding. Cultural concepts of <i>akajagari</i> and <i>caguwa</i> open paths into not only experience-grounded epistemologies, but also dialectical aporia, to balance opposing imperatives or double-binds. <i>Akajagari</i> operates both as a disciplinary moral negative (unruly, unhygienic) and as a liberatory moral positive (porous, flexible), while <i>caguwa</i> similarly operates to transform clothing from ‘used’ or ‘second-hand’ or ‘factory seconds’ into inventive and distinctive styles. Films, such as Kivu Ruhorazoza's <i>Grey Matter</i> (2011) and <i>Fathers’ Day</i> (2022) provide insight into local narratives and psychological pressures, as do vignettes such as Shearer's account of resistance to demolition, and of local choke points (and thus money-extraction opportunities) in getting water to uphill informal settlements. Comparative examples of Singapore, Dharavi (Mumbai), and Manchester (England) can sharpen the realism of competing incentives and resistances at play.</p><p>The architect Roland Dierterle, defending the expense and flamboyance of the Kigali Convention Center in a poor country, says landmark projects demonstrate Rwanda's potential and show diaspora Rwandans they can be optimistic about returning home (Wild <span>2016</span>). He also defends the Convention Center as a model for sustainable energy development, a counter-concept to glass buildings. Bock similarly shows how public-private partnerships that bring investment can be incentivized and regulated to <i>prevent</i> finance capital from running wild.</p><p>Comparative perspectives are invaluable, not only the post-World War II reconstruction of housing in social democratic or socialist Europe and Singapore, but also the decay of those social contracts, most notably described for Manchester in England (Meek <span>2024</span>; Rose <span>2024</span>). Equally cautionary are contemporary fights over large-scale slums – Dharavi (Mumbai), Kibera (Nairobi), Orangi (Karachi), and Khayelitsha (Cape Town) – through private-public partnerships, or incremental improvements from shanties to working-class communities as in <i>gecekondu</i> in Istanbul, and <i>favelas</i> in Rio. The Dharavi case is particularly contested in the struggle over India's crony capitalism under Prime Minister Narendra Modi and businessman Gautam Adani, who was given the right to redevelop Dharavi, versus the civic groups that try to protect the rights to the city and the ecology of small businesses that provide an urban economic engine. Adani invokes the Singapore model, but not its social compact.</p><p>The three ethnographies of Bock, Shearer, and Hudani provide three very different perspectives, opening up the ‘model city’, ‘global city’, and ‘post-global city’ rubrics to more demanding realism about the circulation of finance and consultancies, as well as struggles to accommodate everyone's rights to the city, a matter not only of social justice, but of cultural liveability and long-term social and ecological sustainability.</p>","PeriodicalId":47904,"journal":{"name":"Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute","volume":"31 3","pages":"937-949"},"PeriodicalIF":1.1000,"publicationDate":"2025-08-05","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://rai.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/1467-9655.14308","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute","FirstCategoryId":"90","ListUrlMain":"https://rai.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/1467-9655.14308","RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"社会学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q2","JCRName":"ANTHROPOLOGY","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0

Abstract

Three recent ethnographies of Kigali's urban planning and development provide a welcome addition to a long tradition of such ethnographies, including Lisa Redfield Peattie's famous fieldwork in the planning of Ciudad Guayana (1968; 1987), Grace Goodell's ethnographic account of the disjunction between planning offices in Tehran and the urban settlements (sharaks) of the Khuzistan Development Project modelled on the Tennessee Vally Authority (1986), and Gökce Günel's ethnographic analysis of the disjunction between plans for, and implementation of, Mazdar City and Mazdar Institute in Abu Dhabi (2019).

Kigali, often dubbed ‘the African Singapore’, provides a model for thinking about new urban formations in Africa and elsewhere (see Pype, Adunbe & Fischer 2025), the circulation of planning consultancies, and the key social issues of dealing with informal settlements, overcrowding, and rights to the city. Having worked in Singapore for the past decade or so, I was long interested in the claim of the Singapore consultancy, and town planning agency within Singapore (Surbana), to have provided the planning for Kigali as well as a number of other cities in Africa. It was one of several initiatives to sell Singapore's expertise (industrial parks in China; port management in Turkey). A two-week intensive visit to Rwanda, including to its new district hospital and University of Global Health Equity in Butaro, a poor region of the north – both initiatives of the anthropologist Paul Farmer and Partners in Health – in the company of Dr. Aalyia Sadruddin (a long-time ethnographer in Rwanda whose network gave access to several of Rwanda's strategists), enhanced my desire to further ‘read for the ethnography’.

‘Reading for the ethnography’ is my slogan for creating a detailed empirical basis for theory building, evaluation of ethnographic writing, cultural critique, and the transnational circuitry of post-globalization. Reading for the ethnography is the ‘ground-truthing’, or finer grained precision, of claims of theory, just as aerial photography requires on-the-ground verification and often alternative understandings: What is the evidence? How well does the text demonstrate linguistic and cultural competence in eliciting emic accounts? Are there other accounts in the literature, other histories of the specific places, or alternative explanations? In the present comparison of three ethnographies of the same city and administrative structures, I pay attention to the ethnographic facts that each adduces that I can use to create a mosaic understanding of different parts of the city, different local histories of settlement and redevelopment, and different evolving plans versus local resistance or counter-movements of residents, and how the interlocutors and informants evaluate, complain, or take advantage of changing effects of city planners, global financing, and of organic incremental growth and ad hoc solutions.

The three ethnographies are not quite like the elephant and the three blind men, but they present remarkably different accountings of how, where, and when things happened, even if at some points they draw upon similar generalizing language about financial and administrative logics and forces. I am interested in the way their empirical ethnographic materials complement each other to create a baseline for further inquiry – on Kigali, but also for comparative work across cities that face similar (but locally different) problems. I emphasize the ethnographic history of Singapore itself to counter the cliches, again looking for the precise ethnographic and historical evolutions in its experience, and the role of the Surbana town planning consultancy in Singapore and as it attempts to sell its experiences and expertise elsewhere. Writing about Kigali in transition must negotiate visionary ambitions and promissory publicity together with ‘ground truthing’, tracking emergent forms of social organization and struggles for rights to the city, along with gender relations, and visions of the good life.

The three ethnographies proved to be quite different in focus and evidentiary basis. Stephan Bock embedded himself in the urban planning ministries of Rwanda, and at the Surbana consultancy offices in Singapore, to examine the role of Surbana's master plans and building regulations for Kigali. Samuel Shearer embedded himself in the street vendor markets and informal settlements looking to how their residents try ‘to defend their collective resources against the liquidating processes of speculative urbanism’ (p. 5). Shakira Hudani focuses on three types of resettlement areas to which people evicted from informal settlements are moved. As the terms ‘master plans’ and ‘speculative urbanism’ indicate, the forces are not merely local or contained within nation-states, but are imaginaries and financial forces circulating the globe.

Kigali, Shearer suggests, has joined Singapore to be ‘on the forefront in a revolution of how cities are managed, lived, and imagined everywhere’ (p. 5). But Shearer is also an excellent guide to resistance and pushback from the people being managed. He takes a critical view of the master plan process ‘written by consultants in Singapore, funded by multinational investment corporations, to be exported from Kigali’ (p. 5). The ‘world class city’ for him does not actually produce the built environment it promises, but, ‘by activating global networks of capital and expertise with a compelling visual narrative about a city's future potential’, subverts the tactics available for use by the less advantaged city residents to have a stake in the city (p. 5). He claims the ‘international team of managers and consultants have “liberated” planning from the political and economic relations that paralyze planners in other cities’ (p. 5). His own excellent ethnography shows otherwise, or at least that it is not the whole story. Following Michael Goldman (2011), he asserts that the goals of ‘speculative urbanism’ are to create real estate investment opportunities. But, as Bock points out, money is required to build a city, and money-strapped Rwanda needed private-public investment to generate urban budgets but also ways to extract money from, and give ownership to, its own population.

As Beng-Huat Chua, Singapore's leading sociologist and loyal critic, demonstrates, the housing mechanism in Singapore built the state through forced savings that the state could then leverage (Chua 2024). Rwanda, too, has a state mechanism to shape investment and growth: the national pension program (eligibility is paid contributions for fifteen years). Construction, in large part, is financed by three state-connected funds (Goodfellow & Smith 2013). Rwanda's political-administrative structure of districts, sectors, cells, imidugudu (the smallest formal unit of a hundred or so households) and an informal nyumbacumi (person overseeing ten households) is analogous to the organization of Singapore's People's Action Party's voluntary organizations and community centres built into housing estates (though not down to the same formal degree of ten households). Goodfellow and Smith provide an overview of the struggle to organize the city of Kigali between 1994 and 2000, and to prevent the race riots that Singapore experienced in its early days of independence and government consolidation.

What is often called the ‘Singapore model’ is just one element of planning and design in a complex process of ‘from third world to first in one generation’ (in Lee Kuan Yew's famous tag line for ‘the Singapore Story’) or from low-income to middle-income country (in Paul Kagame's). Shearer, while criticizing aspects of Singapore's consultancy in Kigali notes that the whole idea was that the plan should pay for itself by attracting foreign capital. Furthermore, ‘what is called the Singapore model’ is ‘not because it follows that city's transformation, but because it conjures an idea of what global “city-ness” should look like, with Singapore as a reference’ (p. 131). The conjuring, he says, is ‘what Surbana sells’. It has sold ninety master plan projects in thirty countries mainly in Asia and Africa. These are promissory visions, and become integrated as one layer in cascades of implementation, with all the contingencies, blockages, and redesign involved. ‘Participatory planning’ is a buzz-word component (one that Lisa Redfield Peattie championed) but that Shearer points out in Rwanda today is often really participatory expropriation, letting coops and associations ‘purchase their own property and take out loans to develop that property’, often against the will (or lack of choice) of the participants (p. 139); a harsher version of the ‘forced savings’ that Beng-Huat Chua describes for Singapore.

So how did this process get started? Here Bock is helpful. Pundits, Bock says, regularly give Rwanda good marks for economic development and bad marks for authoritarianism and human rights violations. But such binaries, he argues ‘do not help to disentangle the complexity of relations and interactions’. He calls for multi-locale and multi-scalar ethnographic approaches. He watched Kigali develop from 2006 when there were only a few hotels and government buildings taller than a single storey, no traffic lights, and only mini-buses for public transportation. By 2011 there were cleared areas waiting for redevelopment, traffic lights, and larger buses.

In the immediate post-genocide years, emergency attention had to be given to cleaning up the city, disposing of the corpses, providing physical and food security, aiding orphans, and receiving waves of returning refugees and rural-to-urban migrants. There is an inexact parallel to the early post-World War II situation of Singapore, where both urban slums that grew during the war, and village kampongs, were cleared, and people were moved into high-rise apartment buildings. Kigali had World Bank ‘Tent, Temporary, Permanent Refugee’ and ‘Urban Infrastructure and City Management’ programmes, a UNDP cadastral information system, as well as preliminary city master plan efforts for a master plan with some advisors from the United States and Israel.

The first Kigali Conceptual Master Plan was produced by the Denver-based consultancy OZ Architecture in 2005–7. Singapore's Surbana was hired in 2008 to do a fuller master plan, and in 2015 The Economist dubbed Kigali ‘Africa's Singapore’. Kigali was, as Bock puts it, tidy and secure, with a well-run appearance, daily street cleaners, prohibition of begging, and banishment of plastic bags. Shearer is nostalgic for the earlier plan. Both he and Bock credit OZ with doing real site visits, walking the land, holding focus groups with residents, and building a qualitative database. They acknowledge that OZ had little to work with: there were no real maps, useful photographs, or documentation (whatever might have existed had been destroyed in the fighting in 1994 and the hurried exit of the previous administration). OZ developed a concept of ‘polycentric, semi-autonomous, mixed-use urban clusters, branching out from a public market and plaza’ into residences, health and education facilities with community gardens and greenbelts (Shearer, p. 125). They tried to expand on the existing informal settlement patterns, viewing the markets as assets to be maintained (traders and cooperatives paid taxes), and primarily recommending the settlements needed better infrastructure and land use regulations.

But a master plan is not just a blueprint: it is a tool to attract investors. OZ suggested a new city centre, did some detailed planning for four priority areas, and developed building standards. In 2009 an employee of OZ became head of Kigali's Urban Planning Department. But how to raise financing? Bock says references to Singapore kept coming up, and in 2008 visits were made to Singapore, Vietnam, and South Korea. In 2011, Surbana won the tender for detailed planning of Kigali's Gasabo and Kicukiro Districts. A Surbana office was established within the Kigali planning department (the One Stop Center). Surbana promoted branding districts of Kigali in order to make it possible to visualize the plans and make them comprehensible to the wider public. This involved an inspection department (someone to show up on site), awareness programmes (often cast as ‘participatory planning’), and setting up a way for land owners to send SMS inquiries from their phones to see where their plot would be zoned in the master plan. Planners were open about the lag in producing the estimated 33,000 units of housing needed per year (only 6,000 built), and that investments naturally flowed into commercial space or higher end housing rather than affordable housing.1

Beng-Huat Chua, in ‘Singapore as model’ (2011), warns that the model cannot simply be transferred elsewhere, only relevant elements can be. The Singapore government owns 90 per cent of the land, and could do comprehensive planning, and with a good education system, Singapore could radically increase wages in the mid-1980s forcing labour-intensive manufacturing to exit, or invest in higher tech. After the 1997 Asian financial crisis, this shift intensified to support ‘knowledge-based industries’ (finance, biosciences, pharmaceuticals). Surbana Urban Planning Group, as noted above, claims to have designed over 500 planning projects in thirty countries (in South and Southeast Asia, Africa, and Arabia). In Singapore it has helped create twenty-six comprehensively planned townships of over a million homes.

In Rwanda, the structure of the political economy was transformed from the agrarian Belgian colonial one, in which the peasants were given fixed amounts of land with contracts specifying the agricultural techniques to be used and production targets. Identity-cards, resident and work permits were issued, not unlike the Chinese hukou system, and ujamaa under Julius Nyerere in Tanzania. Under President Juvénal Habyarimana, the one-party state became increasingly totalitarian: migration to the city was not allowed; people found outside their communes were returned. Bock says 80,000 peasant households were resettled in uncultivated lands to expand production, subsequently requiring restoration by anti-erosion campaigns. Peasants were to produce export crops (tea and coffee). But in the late 1980s and early 1990s, global coffee and tea prices collapsed, and food security became a crisis. Pritish Behuria (2020) provides an overview, noting that in 1991 the World Bank and international aid shifted from supporting self-sufficient peasants, to calling for the free movement of labour and the development of market economies. For coffee, this meant moving up the value chain with specialty coffees, coffee bean washing, and alliances with international fair trade and branded corporate retailers.

Bock cites a 1996 Rwandan government declaration, ‘In a small country such as ours, without natural resources, the only viable option … is that of a dynamic private sector that can begin and sustain the economic diversification process’. Despite some longer-term budget support from the World Bank and IMF, the key issue was low capacity, especially as much of the 30-50-year-old generation was gone (evident still today in the very young high-level officials). And so, a key focus was to use international consultants for policy and regulations, but following Singapore, with an insistence that Rwandans had to become active participants in the planning processes, not just recipients of expertise.

Paul Kagame, officially elected President in 2003, had already been convening a series of meetings to plan the development of the country from low- to middle-income status by 2020 (‘Vision 2020’). Already, in 2000, a Rwandan team went to Harvard to learn about challenges of decentralization. A Poverty-Reduction Strategy Paper (2002) was used to qualify Rwanda for concessional debt relief from the World Bank, which also suggested learning from East Asian countries to create a globally competitive knowledge-based economy. The Rwanda Development Board (along the lines of the Economic Development Board of Singapore) was set up to serve as a ‘one-stop centre’ for investors, raising Rwanda's standing in the global ‘ease of doing business’ ratings, the context for The Economist dubbing Rwanda ‘Africa's Singapore’. The second five-year Economic Development and Poverty Reduction Strategy for 2013-18 focused on hiring experts to mentor Rwandan counterparts, and to focus on urban land use and master plans.

Hudani argues that the planning apparatus of a developmental state is fundamentally opposed to a politics of inclusiveness, social justice issues of rights to the city, and incremental repair of physical and social habitat. She argues that one best understands Rwanda as a biopolitics of urban elites exercising control over the rural majority. This was the case in colonial times when the Belgians used Tutsi elites in a mode of indirect rule, and again today with the return of educated Tutsi and Hutu refugees (from violence in 1958, 1972, and 1994). Hudani's strong biopolitical claims depend upon her case studies of three different neighbourhoods and types of development (described below).

Shearer cites Henri Lefebvre's notion that three urban elements are always disrupting each other, ‘stitching, stretching, and ripping the urban fabric’: techno-centric planning, dissolution of the old built environment, and social practices (Shearer, p. 151). Rwandan scholars have studied the spatial injustice of urban renewal, using Google Maps and remote visual recognition tools to estimate wealth, parcel size, and housing quality. Many of these technical papers are heavy on statistical measures applied to inadequate data sets, with relatively minimal on-the-ground discussion with the people affected. Ethnographic ‘ground-truthing’ could help improve such exercises in conjunction with remote sensing data.

Missing in all three ethnographies, but central to the Singapore model, are accounts of scholarships to universities abroad as part of a national agenda to upgrade human capital. From 2000, Singapore funded 1,200 top students for PhDs and postdoctoral training at top universities abroad; and fast-tracked returnees up the ranks of the civil service or fostered starting their own research labs. Universities have been upgraded to world-ranked research institutions, a number of research institutes (Agency for Science, Technology and Research [A*STAR]) have been lavishly funded to kick-start science and technology research and development, along with inviting multinational investment. Rwanda is beginning to follow suit. The new Butaro District Hospital and associated University of Global Health Equity (UGHE), in collaboration with Boston-based Partners-in-Health and the Harvard Medical School, is intended to provide medical training for physicians and health care practitioners across the African continent. Its modern facilities, like the modern Faculty of Architecture and Environmental Design of the University of Rwanda in Kigali, were built with local materials, labour and attention to the environmental setting. Kigali's SEZ (special economic zone) hosts the inaugural site for BioNTech (one of the breakthrough innovators of the vaccine against COVID-19) to establish an mRNA vaccine research and development facility, to provide vaccines for countries in the African Union, the first such facility on the African continent (BioNTech 2023a; 2023b; Kansteiner 2024; Pharmaceutical Technology 2024). Missing also – part of the conditions of possibility but peripheral to the focus on the internal urban planning – are external sources of funding. For Singapore, this includes the offshore oil refineries on Jurong Island, and industrial parks on Batam island (Indonesia) and in Johur (Malaysia). There was once an ambitious tri-state cross-border economic zone, an ambitious plan promoted by President B.J. Habibie of Indonesia (Peachey, Perry & Grundy-Warr 1998). For Rwanda, it includes the minerals extracted from eastern Congo through Rwandan-supported guerillas, and perhaps the peacekeepers it has deployed through the United Nations.

Urban ethnographies attempting to characterize emergent forms of social organization, imaginaries, and struggles for rights to the city, require a sense of historical trajectories. Gender relations are a theme and history that needs further excavation. Both Shearer's account of women street traders and heads of households, and also McMillin's (2014) recognition of an older East African pattern of women-led ‘possession cults’ that challenge patriarchy and forms of male power, are beginnings. For the educated middle classes, Rwanda has the distinction of more women in parliament than any other country, as well as a number of government ministers.

Shearer, a fluent Kinyarwanda speaker, begins with a lively anecdote of rock throwing by a local crowd at police, labourers and guards, who were sent to prevent locals from rebuilding a recently demolished house, owned by a woman street vendor, who couldn't afford to pay a bribe to her local ‘cell’ or community executive. Bribes (akantu, ‘a little something’) are tokens to keep exchanges and favours flowing, but, in this case, not only was the ask too much, but the executive invoked the city's master plan, which marked her house and the area for eventual demolition. The crowd not only confronted the demolition, but called a popular radio talk show as the events were happening. To add insult, the crowd chanted loudly the ‘patriotic’ work song, tuzarwubaka, used during weekly compulsory community service (umuganda).

Street vending, the livelihood of the house owner, is a subsistence strategy of women who peddle produce and ‘used’ clothing. They sell smaller units of produce that they have bought, or gained on credit, from shopkeepers or wholesalers, and thus make marginal amounts on the difference in price. Garments travel the world in large, 45 kg bundles, and are locally unbundled and sold as individual items in auctions. They are then mended or inventively refashioned piece by piece, and rebranded as ‘international’ (mpuzamuhanga) rather than as ‘used’, ‘seconds’, or ‘cast offs’. They are called caguwa. Local fashion is invented in this way. Caguwa is more than ‘fakes’ (for which there is also a market), or ‘used’. Caguwa employs thousands of abaozi (tailors), organized into sewing cooperatives, using pump sewing machines, coal irons, and stacks of replacement patches and labels, ‘mending, working stains and switching brand name tags’ (Shearer, p. 98). The street traders have their own pooling cooperatives, so each week or month someone gets to use the entire pool to pay down debts, buy something, etc. Many are single mothers, share child care with each other, and often live without men. Other modes of making a small living include sanitation cooperatives and companies (often owned by the army) that pay less than US$1.50/day, or slightly more for waste collectors and sorters (US$2/day); in the 2020s some machines for sorting were introduced.

Returning to the vignette, Shearer says, ‘The narrative of Kigali as an ordered state with a docile population, broke down, showing that the production and occupation of space is fiercely contested’ (p. 98). The police calmed the situation, took the radio station off air, and websites off line. The police convinced everyone to sit down for a meeting, arrested four, jailed them for a few days, and then quietly let them go.

For the city, street vendors, akajagari spaces, informal settlements, and underemployed young men are problematic morally (disordered, unhygienic), financially (not providing a tax base), and technically (on unsustainable slopes and wetlands). For Shearer, the vignette illustrates that ‘at stake for urban residents in the twenty-first century metropolis is how to defend collective resources against the liquidating processes of speculative urbanism’ (p. 24). Shearer provides ‘before and after’ satellite photographs of two razed akajagari informal settlements (‘slums’) where in July 2008 thousands of homes were demolished and looted by the soldiers and workers. The National Pension Fund had distributed compensation notifications to landowners, but only for the buildings, not the land, which it said belonged to the state. When the demolition bulldozers and work gangs came, people banged pots to alert others to save what they could. The residents also hired their own surveyors to appeal the inadequate compensation. Many families were just loaded onto trucks and taken to a new housing village (Batsinda) owned by the pension fund.

Shearer's ethnographic ear is powerful: none of the districts or neighborhoods of Kigali are called by their official names, but by names of war zones, other famous informal settlements (or slums), or are descriptively dismissive: Kosovo, Bannyahe (‘where do we piss or shit?’), Karabaye (‘[bad] things happen there’), Sodoma (Sodom and Gomorrah, in Accra, in the Bible), Dobandi (from French des bandits, i.e. gangster-ville), N'Djamena (in Chad), Kabakene (‘for poor people’). Shearer is nostalgic for the now razed Kiyovu cy'abaken and Kimicanga, which he says by the 1970s had become thriving cosmopolitan centres. Even though he agrees the one-party development state of Habyarimana was oppressive for most of the rural population, the middle and upper classes could live well from the booming coffee and tea economy, with foreign cars, fancy clothes, and electronics, and a music scene of rumba, reggae, igisope, and rhythm and blues. In 1989 the coffee prices crashed. In 1990 the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) invaded from Uganda. The airwaves were taken over by anti-RPF, anti-Tutsi, state-sponsored propaganda. It was, Shearer says, the ‘evacuation of the world’: Indian and Omani traders left for Tanzania, and many ‘walked away from the city to wait out the war’, some going to the Congo where Mubutu welcomed them as a potential force to use against the RPF (p. 95). Shearer celebrates the ‘street festival atmosphere’ of the illegal street traders and vendors, but he is under no illusions that their various tactics of occupying space and oppositional gestures are a real alternative politics. He describes the demolition in 2014 of the Nyabugogo market built in 1977, and of other such market buildings, in an attempt to move vendors into new shopping malls in spaces away from their supporting populations, and designed more for showing off commodities than helping small businesses thrive.

In a final ethnographic chapter, he describes the corruption of the effort to provide water uphill to informal settlements such as Muganza on Mt. Kigali. Pipes, promised by a public-private scheme (the German utility Lahmeyer, contracted by the World Bank to privatize the Rwanda utility Electrogaz), never arrived, although the residents dug the ditches for the pipes. (The state cancelled the Lahmeyer contract and re-nationalized the utility.) Water infrastructure problems also exist further downhill, where residents have to descend to the wetlands and marshes for water. The dilemmas of capital costs for populations that can provide no tax base is not unique to Rwanda. Shearer at one point, in frustration, says that urban development in Kigali seems ‘less about social improvement and more about [rendering] a rural society governable by a predominantly urban, authoritarian, ethnically minority elite’ (p. 16) and that this elite has enough political and financial resources (in their transnational network of managers and consultants) to steamroll any attempt to block their speculative urbanism (p. 23). Indeed, he asks: how could a world-class city be designed and built within the limits of municipal finances?

Hudani provides case studies of three types of strategies to relocate people from informal settlements to make way for new development: (1) eviction to a new housing complex (Bannyahe); (2) an urban finance frontier (Bugesera), attracting capitalist investment at the expense of working-class or informal settlement residents; and (3) model green village (Rweru, a form of ‘villagization’ and deurbanization). She shows the march of calculations (rents, agricultural prices, time and labour costs, space metrics needed for urban habitation, made smaller and smaller as apartment blocks replace self-built houses with plots for growing food and raising animals) and the metrics of competitions among countries, cities, and districts, seeking capital, credit, and investment.

(1) Eviction. Situated on a steep gradient that the master plans designate ‘high-risk zones’, residents of Bannyahe were forbidden to upgrade or rehabilitate their houses, which they had built over time from bits of wood, then improved with dried mud brick and then with terracotta brick, as they waited for the state to evict them and offer them resettlement options: to relocate to a newly built housing estate (Batsinda) or accept a monetary settlement according to, increasingly contested, bureaucratic evaluations of their houses and land. Neither was really acceptable. The new apartments were small and the unit cost was far above the offered compensation. They could not get acceptable loan terms from the Rwanda Housing Bank (imagined by the planners), because it would not accept as collateral land titles or houses about to be razed (new housing construction not keeping pace with evictions). And they were being offered three-storey vertical mass housing in exchange for first floor houses with gardens. Many people owned multiple houses that provided rent that would be lost in the proposed resettlement. Bannyahe was earmarked for a ‘$56 million development by a Rwandan-Finnish investment consortium’. A total of 728 property owners objected. Two hundred sued in court for a fair monetary settlement (not the new apartments). They lost. They began to tear down their own houses in defiance, a form of anger that also happened in the countryside when the state tried to organize rural populations into group settlement schemes (imidugudu), and imposed new building code regulations, such as requiring metal roofs instead of traditional thatch. The residents of Bannyahe protested the absence of urban services in Bannyahe as abandonment by the state, using the same term akajagari that the upper classes used against them. Akajagari is unruly, disordered from the latter's perspective, and abandoned to self-help from the other. As Hudani puts it, ‘the transgressive political order that underlies Kigali's clean façade’ is achieved by the use of the state apparatus of security to give an appearance of order. Her chapter is titled, ‘Political abandonment’, that is, the ‘abandonment of promises of urban inclusion and right to the city’. Rather than upgrading informal settlements with infrastructure (municipal water, electricity, and sanitation), as in Istanbul's gecekondu and in other cities in which squatting and informal building led to political pressure for services and incorporation into the city, here, Hudani says, the master plan re-zones the informal settlement for investment by transnational capital.

Hudani describes Bannyahe as grown to over 1,600 households, the main market street at the top, and steep inclines towards the bottom where wetlands supplied water when uphill taps ran dry, where there were smaller market streets, and where Pentecostal and Protestant churches and some cooperatives provided a social fabric of collective life. As refugees returned, pressure built to reclaim property, leading to disputes over land.

(2) The urban finance frontier of Bugesera District lies just beyond the Nyabarongo river and the swamps surrounding it, marking the boundary of Kigali, and near where many bodies of the 1994 massacre were dumped. It has now become a new zone of capitalist investment. In the 1960s the Belgians moved Tutsi pastoralists from the Northern Province and elsewhere to these tsetse-infested low-lying marshlands, and tried to get Hutu to work as paysannat, the French term for land settlement schemes. Two of the churches (in Nyamata and Ntarama), where 10,000 and 6,000 Tutsi, respectively, were killed, are now genocide memorials. Hudani says that the intensity of the genocide massacres in Bugesera in 1994 indexed the large number of Tutsi relocated from elsewhere.

Today Bugesera District is an urban frontier, a zone of new investment, anchored by a planned new thirteen-billion-dollar international airport in Kanombe (60 per cent financed by Qatar Airways, with a projected capacity of serving 14 million passengers by 2032), as well as a new agricultural and technical university (in a government partnership with Warren Buffett who bought and donated the land), industrial zones, a bulk water supply facility, and a Chinese-built highway. The airport and other new constructions are regulated by the Green Mark Rating System of the Singapore Building Control Authority (BCA). The land on the way to the airport is being bought up by investors, recognizing it will rise in value. A One Stop Center (OSC) here, and in six other model cities, where all permits and administrative transactions can be done, has been established to speed up this development. OSCs also help create competition between districts, cities, and countries to attract investment, using the World Bank's performance-based ranking index of cities (aggregated time saved in investment and business processes). Rwanda is vying to be ranked among the easiest places to do business.

The 2012 decentralization policy was intended to increase competition over performance among districts, and institute more stringent regulations. District governments were mandated to hire twenty-four-hour cleaning services and rubbish removal on three-year contracts. Hygiene patrols (isoku irondo) provided oversight and enforcement. Hudani says there are over 13,000 workers (often poorly paid women) hired by 135 sanitation companies, operated and subsidized by the national defence forces, as well as local monthly communal labour (umuganda) groups. There are competitions (isuku, ‘order creation’) among districts (disciplined by imihigo, ‘vows to deliver’) announced on television, with performance score cards – to monitor target setting and delivery. Communal labour, Hudani notes, called ‘volunteering’, and ‘even quantified by the International Labor Organization’, is touted by cities to attract investment. Hudani says the urban poor are increasingly moved around from place to place in waves of dislocation and dispossession. Those who cannot comply with new building standards and sanitation codes are evicted, paralleling the rural poor whose land is collectivized and freed up for commercial agriculture or for conservation, and are resettled in new housing schemes (imidugudu) and green villages.

(3) The third strategy of removal is the model green village. Rweru was established in 2017 as part of a Rural Integrated Development Program (IDP). Rweru at first housed 144 families, later another 140 families, in clusters of four units (sharing a latrine and biogas digester), built of red brick with metal roofs. Funded by the UNDP's program ‘Ecosystems/Landscape approach to climate proof the Rural Settlement Program of Rwanda’, 416 such villages were to be built by 2024. Rweru is the show village that investors and foreign dignitaries are taken to see. Hudani calls it a Potemkin village. Villagers complain: the biogas isn't working; rainwater harvesting is not effective; the land is too small to grow crops; those resettled from lake islands complain they cannot farm or fish enough for their food needs and cannot easily leave to earn money.

‘Villagization’ was originally a rural resettlement programme for returning refugees. It was later justified as being a more rational means of crop production, supported by external funders, and modelled on programmes elsewhere, especially Julius Nyerere's ujamaa collectivized or co-operatized villages in Tanzania in the 1970s, putting row houses in the centre and agricultural land around it. Uganda and Ethiopia had similar schemes, as did South Korea under Park Chung-hee's development state (1963-79). In 2006, Hudani reports, South Korea's Saemaul Undong (SMU) or New Village Movement was introduced to Rwanda and eight other African countries. The promise was to promote self-sufficiency, productivity, popular participation in infrastructure management, discipline (diligence, self-help, cooperation), and integration of people from different places (at scale). In 2001 Human Rights Watch reported that between 1997 and 1999, a million people (225,000 households) were moved to imidugudu (collective villages) to bring the scattered population into more concentrated forms, and to break apart the social organizations of rural society (which Hudani says contributed to the genocide, but which she also suggests could support resistance to state planning). Especially after 1998, Hudani states that ‘many Rwandans experienced forced resettlement, and were coerced to destroy their own homes and relocate to sparsely inhabited imidugudu settlement areas’, where building materials rapidly became in short supply. The habitation/resettlement policy addressed the complexity of rival claims to houses and land in gacaca court disputes by moving people (willingly or not) into imidugudu villages. She is not clear, but it seems the green model village programme is an effort to re-imagine the earlier imidugudu, adding climate and ecological considerations (and metrics) to earlier collectivization.

Given these three examples, it is also not clear how the goals of urbanization are aligned. Hudani says Rwanda seeks a 35 per cent urbanization rate by 2024, up from 18-20 per cent. The scale of the problems is daunting: she claims that in 2007 60 per cent of the Rwandan population lived in extreme poverty, and 35 per cent were under-nourished.

The importance of Bock, Shearer, and Hudani's fieldwork reveals, as actionable and simultaneous, a multiple-fold helix of needs and processes in everyday urban negotiations, mobilizing citizen, as well as political will, beyond any simple technological, political, or economic fix.2 Singapore's Surbana was indeed important to Kigali, and Singapore remains an important referent: in planning, in provision of urban services, in education, in attracting foreign investment, and in deft use of branding. Cultural concepts of akajagari and caguwa open paths into not only experience-grounded epistemologies, but also dialectical aporia, to balance opposing imperatives or double-binds. Akajagari operates both as a disciplinary moral negative (unruly, unhygienic) and as a liberatory moral positive (porous, flexible), while caguwa similarly operates to transform clothing from ‘used’ or ‘second-hand’ or ‘factory seconds’ into inventive and distinctive styles. Films, such as Kivu Ruhorazoza's Grey Matter (2011) and Fathers’ Day (2022) provide insight into local narratives and psychological pressures, as do vignettes such as Shearer's account of resistance to demolition, and of local choke points (and thus money-extraction opportunities) in getting water to uphill informal settlements. Comparative examples of Singapore, Dharavi (Mumbai), and Manchester (England) can sharpen the realism of competing incentives and resistances at play.

The architect Roland Dierterle, defending the expense and flamboyance of the Kigali Convention Center in a poor country, says landmark projects demonstrate Rwanda's potential and show diaspora Rwandans they can be optimistic about returning home (Wild 2016). He also defends the Convention Center as a model for sustainable energy development, a counter-concept to glass buildings. Bock similarly shows how public-private partnerships that bring investment can be incentivized and regulated to prevent finance capital from running wild.

Comparative perspectives are invaluable, not only the post-World War II reconstruction of housing in social democratic or socialist Europe and Singapore, but also the decay of those social contracts, most notably described for Manchester in England (Meek 2024; Rose 2024). Equally cautionary are contemporary fights over large-scale slums – Dharavi (Mumbai), Kibera (Nairobi), Orangi (Karachi), and Khayelitsha (Cape Town) – through private-public partnerships, or incremental improvements from shanties to working-class communities as in gecekondu in Istanbul, and favelas in Rio. The Dharavi case is particularly contested in the struggle over India's crony capitalism under Prime Minister Narendra Modi and businessman Gautam Adani, who was given the right to redevelop Dharavi, versus the civic groups that try to protect the rights to the city and the ecology of small businesses that provide an urban economic engine. Adani invokes the Singapore model, but not its social compact.

The three ethnographies of Bock, Shearer, and Hudani provide three very different perspectives, opening up the ‘model city’, ‘global city’, and ‘post-global city’ rubrics to more demanding realism about the circulation of finance and consultancies, as well as struggles to accommodate everyone's rights to the city, a matter not only of social justice, but of cultural liveability and long-term social and ecological sustainability.

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基加利的故事,新加坡的模式,以及这个城市的权利
最近的三本关于基加利城市规划和发展的民族志,为这类民族志的悠久传统提供了受欢迎的补充,包括丽莎·雷德菲尔德·佩蒂(Lisa Redfield Peattie)在瓜亚那城(Ciudad Guayana, 1968;1987年),格蕾丝·古德尔(Grace Goodell)对德黑兰规划办公室与以田纳西河谷管理局为模型的胡兹斯坦发展项目(1986年)的城市定居点(鲨鱼)之间脱节的民族志描述(1986年),以及Gökce g<s:1> nel对阿布扎比马兹达尔城和马兹达尔研究所的计划和实施之间脱节的民族志分析(2019年)。基加利通常被称为“非洲的新加坡”,它为思考非洲和其他地方的新城市形态提供了一个模式(见Pype, Adunbe & Fischer 2025),规划咨询的流通,以及处理非正式住区、过度拥挤和城市权利等关键社会问题。我在新加坡工作了十年左右,一直对新加坡咨询公司和新加坡城市规划机构(Surbana)的说法很感兴趣,他们为基加利和非洲其他一些城市提供了规划。这是出售新加坡专业知识(在中国的工业园区;在土耳其的港口管理)的几项举措之一。我对卢旺达进行了为期两周的密集访问,包括参观其新的地区医院和位于北部贫困地区布塔罗的全球卫生公平大学——这两项活动都是人类学家保罗·法默(Paul Farmer)和卫生伙伴组织(Partners in Health)发起的——在阿alyia Sadruddin博士(一位长期在卢旺达工作的民族学家,他的网络为卢旺达的几位战略家提供了机会)的陪同下,我更加渴望进一步“阅读民族志”。“为民族志而阅读”是我的口号,旨在为理论建设、民族志写作评估、文化批判和后全球化的跨国循环创造详细的实证基础。民族志的阅读是对理论主张的“实地真相”,或更细粒度的准确性,就像航空摄影需要实地验证和经常替代的理解一样:证据是什么?文本如何很好地展示了语言和文化能力,以引出学术账户?文献中是否有其他的记载,特定地点的其他历史,或者其他的解释?在目前对同一城市和行政结构的三种民族志的比较中,我关注的是每种民族志所引用的事实,我可以用这些事实来创建一个对城市不同部分的马赛克理解,不同的定居和重建的当地历史,不同的发展计划与当地居民的抵抗或反运动,以及对话者和告密者如何评估,抱怨,或者利用城市规划者、全球融资、有机增量增长和特设解决方案不断变化的影响。这三种民族志不太像大象和三个盲人,但它们对事情发生的方式、地点和时间的描述却截然不同,即使它们在某些方面使用了类似的关于金融和行政逻辑和力量的概括语言。我感兴趣的是,他们的经验民族志材料相互补充,为进一步的调查创造了一个基线——不仅是基加利,还有面临类似(但地方不同)问题的城市之间的比较工作。我强调新加坡本身的民族志历史,以对抗陈词滥调,再次寻找其经验中精确的民族志和历史演变,以及Surbana城镇规划咨询公司在新加坡的作用,并试图在其他地方出售其经验和专业知识。要写基加利的转型,必须兼顾愿景、宣传与“真实”,追踪新兴的社会组织形式、争取城市权利的斗争,以及性别关系与美好生活的愿景。事实证明,这三种民族志在研究重点和证据基础上存在很大差异。Stephan Bock深入卢旺达的城市规划部门和新加坡的Surbana咨询办公室,研究Surbana的总体规划和基加利建筑法规的作用。塞缪尔·希勒(Samuel Shearer)深入研究街头小贩市场和非正式定居点,观察他们的居民如何试图“保护他们的集体资源,反对投机性城市主义的清算过程”(第5页)。Shakira Hudani关注的是三种类型的安置区,从非正式定居点被驱逐的人被转移到这些安置区。正如“总体规划”和“投机性城市主义”这两个术语所表明的那样,这些力量不仅仅是地方性的或局限于民族国家内部,而是在全球范围内循环的想象和金融力量。 希勒认为,基加利已经加入新加坡的行列,“站在了城市管理、生活和想象方式革命的前沿”(第5页)。但希勒也很好地指导了被管理者的抵抗和反抗。他对“由新加坡顾问撰写、由跨国投资公司资助、并将从基加利出口”的总体规划过程持批评态度(第5页)。对他来说,“世界级城市”实际上并没有产生它所承诺的建筑环境,但是,“通过激活全球资本和专业知识网络,以令人信服的视觉叙事来描述城市的未来潜力”,颠覆了弱势城市居民在城市中拥有股份的可用策略(第5页)。他声称,“国际管理人员和顾问团队已经将规划从政治和经济关系中‘解放’出来,而政治和经济关系使其他城市的规划者陷于瘫痪”(第5页)。他自己出色的民族志显示了相反的情况,或者至少这不是故事的全部。继Michael Goldman(2011)之后,他断言“投机性城市主义”的目标是创造房地产投资机会。但是,正如博克指出的那样,建设城市需要资金,而资金紧张的卢旺达需要公私投资来产生城市预算,同时也需要从本国人口中榨取资金并赋予其所有权的方法。正如新加坡著名社会学家和忠实评论家蔡明华(bengh - huat Chua)所证明的那样,新加坡的住房机制通过强制储蓄来建立国家,然后国家可以利用这些储蓄(Chua 2024)。卢旺达也有一个国家机制来塑造投资和增长:国家养老金计划(资格是支付15年的捐款)。建设在很大程度上是由三个与国家有关的基金资助的(Goodfellow & Smith 2013)。卢旺达的政治行政结构由地区、部门、小区、imidugudu(大约100个家庭的最小正式单位)和非正式的nyumbacumi(监督10个家庭的人)组成,类似于新加坡人民行动党志愿组织和建在住宅小区的社区中心的组织(尽管没有达到10个家庭的正式程度)。古德费罗和史密斯概述了1994年至2000年间组织基加利市的斗争,以及防止新加坡在独立和政府合并初期经历的种族骚乱。通常所说的“新加坡模式”只是一个复杂过程中规划和设计的一个要素,这个过程是“在一代人的时间里从第三世界到第一世界”(这是李光耀著名的“新加坡故事”的口号),或者是从低收入国家到中等收入国家(这是保罗·卡加梅的故事)。希勒在批评新加坡在基加利咨询公司的某些方面时指出,整个想法是,该计划应该通过吸引外国资本来收回成本。此外,“所谓的新加坡模式”“不是因为它遵循了那个城市的转型,而是因为它以新加坡为参照,唤起了一种全球“城市性”应该是什么样子的想法”(第131页)。他说,这种魔力就是“Surbana卖的东西”。它已经在主要在亚洲和非洲的30个国家出售了90个总体规划项目。这些都是期许的愿景,并且在实现级联中集成为一个层,其中包含所有偶然事件、阻塞和重新设计。“参与式规划”是一个流行语组成部分(Lisa Redfield Peattie支持),但希勒指出,在今天的卢旺达,通常是真正的参与式征用,让合作社和协会“购买自己的财产,并贷款开发该财产”,往往违背参与者的意愿(或缺乏选择)(第139页);这是蔡明华所说的新加坡“被迫储蓄”的更严厉版本。那么这个过程是如何开始的呢?在这里,博克很有帮助。博克说,专家们经常在经济发展方面给卢旺达打高分,在威权主义和侵犯人权方面给卢旺达打低分。但他认为,这种二元对立“无助于理清关系和相互作用的复杂性”。他呼吁采用多地点、多尺度的人种学方法。他看着基加利从2006年开始发展,当时只有几家酒店和政府大楼高于一层楼,没有红绿灯,公共交通工具只有小型巴士。到2011年,已经被清理的区域正在等待重建、交通灯和更大的公共汽车。在种族灭绝之后的几年里,必须紧急注意清理城市,处理尸体,提供人身和粮食安全,援助孤儿,以及接收大批返回的难民和农村到城市的移民。 这与新加坡二战后早期的情况不太相似,在那里,战争期间增长的城市贫民窟和乡村甘榜都被清理了,人们搬进了高层公寓大楼。基加利有世界银行的“帐篷、临时、永久难民”和“城市基础设施和城市管理”方案、开发计划署的一个地籍资料系统,以及与美国和以色列的一些顾问一起为一个总体规划进行的初步城市总体规划工作。第一个基加利概念性总体规划是由总部位于丹佛的咨询公司OZ Architecture在2005 - 2007年制作的。新加坡的Surbana于2008年受聘进行更全面的总体规划,2015年《经济学人》将基加利称为“非洲的新加坡”。正如博克所说,基加利整洁而安全,外表整洁,每天都有街道清洁工,禁止乞讨,禁止使用塑料袋。希勒怀念以前的计划。他和博克都称赞OZ做了真正的实地考察,在土地上散步,与居民进行焦点小组讨论,并建立了定性数据库。他们承认奥兹没有什么可做的:没有真正的地图、有用的照片或文件(任何可能存在的东西都在1994年的战斗和前任政府的匆忙退出中被摧毁了)。OZ提出了“多中心、半自治、混合用途的城市集群,从公共市场和广场延伸到住宅、健康和教育设施以及社区花园和绿地”的概念(Shearer,第125页)。他们试图扩大现有的非正式住区模式,将市场视为需要维持的资产(商人和合作社纳税),并主要建议住区需要更好的基础设施和土地使用条例。但总体规划不仅仅是蓝图:它还是吸引投资者的工具。OZ提出了一个新的城市中心,为四个优先区域做了一些详细的规划,并制定了建筑标准。2009年,OZ的一名雇员成为基加利城市规划部的负责人。但是如何筹集资金呢?博克说,不断有人提到新加坡,2008年他访问了新加坡、越南和韩国。2011年,Surbana赢得了基加利Gasabo和Kicukiro地区详细规划的投标。在基加利规划部(一站式中心)内设立了一个苏尔巴纳办事处。Surbana促进基加利地区的品牌推广,以便使计划可视化,并使更广泛的公众能够理解。这包括一个检查部门(有人出现在现场)、宣传项目(通常被称为“参与式规划”),以及为土地所有者提供一种方式,让他们用手机发送短信查询,以查看他们的地块将在总体规划中被划分为什么区域。规划者们公开表示,中国每年需要建造约3.3万套住房(目前只建成了6000套),而投资自然会流入商业空间或高端住房,而不是经济适用房。1bengh - huat Chua在《新加坡作为榜样》(2011)中警告说,这种模式不能简单地转移到其他地方,只有相关的元素可以转移。新加坡政府拥有90%的土地,可以进行全面的规划,并且拥有良好的教育体系,新加坡可以在20世纪80年代中期大幅提高工资,迫使劳动密集型制造业退出,或者投资于高科技。在1997年亚洲金融危机之后,这种转变加剧了,以支持“知识型产业”(金融、生物科学、制药)。如上所述,Surbana城市规划集团声称在30个国家(南亚、东南亚、非洲和阿拉伯)设计了500多个规划项目。在新加坡,它帮助建立了26个综合规划的城镇,超过100万户家庭。在卢旺达,政治经济的结构已经从比利时殖民时期的农业经济结构转变而来,当时农民获得了固定数量的土地,并签订了合同,具体规定了要使用的农业技术和生产目标。发放身份证、居住证和工作许可证,这与中国的户口制度和坦桑尼亚朱利叶斯•尼雷尔(Julius Nyerere)领导下的乌贾玛(ujamaa)如出一辙。在总统哈比亚利马纳的领导下,一党制国家变得越来越极权:不允许移民到城市;在公社外发现的人被遣返。博克说,为了扩大生产,8万农户被安置在未开垦的土地上,随后需要通过反侵蚀运动进行恢复。农民种植出口作物(茶和咖啡)。但在20世纪80年代末和90年代初,全球咖啡和茶叶价格暴跌,食品安全成为一场危机。 英国Behuria(2020)提供了一个概述,指出1991年世界银行和国际援助从支持自给自足的农民转向呼吁劳动力的自由流动和市场经济的发展。对咖啡来说,这意味着通过精品咖啡、咖啡豆清洗、与国际公平贸易和品牌企业零售商结盟,向价值链上游移动。博克引用了1996年卢旺达政府的一份声明,“在我们这样一个没有自然资源的小国,唯一可行的选择……是一个充满活力的私营部门,它可以开始并维持经济多样化进程。”尽管世界银行(World Bank)和国际货币基金组织(IMF)提供了一些较长期的预算支持,但关键问题是能力低下,尤其是在30-50岁的一代中,很多人已经离开(在非常年轻的高级官员中仍然很明显)。因此,一个关键的重点是在政策和法规方面使用国际顾问,但在新加坡之后,坚持卢旺达人必须成为规划过程的积极参与者,而不仅仅是专业知识的接受者。2003年正式当选总统的保罗·卡加梅(Paul Kagame)已经召开了一系列会议,计划到2020年将国家从低收入国家发展到中等收入国家(“2020年愿景”)。早在2000年,一支卢旺达团队就已经前往哈佛大学学习权力下放的挑战。一份减少贫困战略文件(2002年)被用来使卢旺达有资格获得世界银行的优惠债务减免,世界银行还建议向东亚国家学习,以创建具有全球竞争力的知识型经济。卢旺达发展委员会(与新加坡经济发展委员会类似)的成立是为了为投资者提供“一站式中心”,提高卢旺达在全球“营商便利度”评级中的地位,《经济学人》将卢旺达称为“非洲的新加坡”。2013-18年第二个五年经济发展和减贫战略的重点是聘请专家指导卢旺达同行,并将重点放在城市土地利用和总体规划上。胡达尼认为,发展中国家的规划机构从根本上反对包容性政治、城市权利的社会正义问题,以及对自然和社会栖息地的逐步修复。她认为,人们最好将卢旺达理解为城市精英控制农村多数人的生命政治。殖民时期就是这样,当时比利时人利用图西族精英进行间接统治,今天又有受过教育的图西族和胡图族难民(1958年、1972年和1994年的暴力事件)返回。Hudani强烈的生物政治主张依赖于她对三种不同社区和发展类型的案例研究(如下所述)。Shearer引用了Henri Lefebvre的观点,即三个城市元素总是相互破坏,“拼接,拉伸和撕裂城市结构”:以技术为中心的规划,旧建筑环境的分解和社会实践(Shearer,第151页)。卢旺达学者研究了城市更新的空间不公,使用谷歌地图和远程视觉识别工具来估计财富、地块大小和住房质量。这些技术论文中的许多都着重于应用于不充分的数据集的统计方法,而与受影响的人进行的实地讨论相对较少。人种学的“地面真相”可以与遥感数据相结合,帮助改进这类工作。在这三种民族志中,都没有记述向海外大学提供奖学金,这是提升人力资本的国家议程的一部分,但这是新加坡模式的核心。从2000年开始,新加坡资助1200名优秀学生到国外顶尖大学攻读博士和博士后;海归们被迅速提拔为公务员,或者被鼓励创办自己的研究实验室。大学已经升级为世界排名的研究机构,一些研究机构(科学技术研究局[a *STAR])已经得到了大量资助,以启动科学技术研究和开发,同时还邀请了跨国投资。卢旺达也开始效仿。新的布塔罗区医院和相关的全球卫生公平大学(UGHE)与设在波士顿的卫生伙伴组织和哈佛医学院合作,旨在为整个非洲大陆的医生和卫生保健从业人员提供医疗培训。它的现代化设施,如基加利卢旺达大学的现代建筑和环境设计学院,都是用当地的材料、劳动力和对环境环境的关注建造的。 基加利经济特区(经济特区)是BioNTech(抗COVID-19疫苗的突破性创新者之一)建立mRNA疫苗研发设施的首个地点,旨在为非洲联盟国家提供疫苗,这是非洲大陆首个此类设施(BioNTech 2023a; 2023b; Kansteiner 2024; Pharmaceutical Technology 2024)。缺少的还有外部资金来源- -这是可能性条件的一部分,但与内部城市规划的重点无关。对新加坡来说,这包括裕廊岛的海上炼油厂,以及巴淡岛(印度尼西亚)和柔湖岛(马来西亚)的工业园区。曾经有一个雄心勃勃的三州跨境经济区,这是印度尼西亚总统B.J.哈比比(Peachey, Perry & Grundy-Warr, 1998)推动的一个雄心勃勃的计划。对卢旺达来说,它包括通过卢旺达支持的游击队从刚果东部开采的矿产,也许还有通过联合国部署的维和部队。城市民族志试图描述新兴形式的社会组织、想象和争取城市权利的斗争,需要对历史轨迹的认识。两性关系是一个需要进一步挖掘的主题和历史。希勒对女性街头商贩和户主的描述,以及麦克米林(2014)对东非女性主导的“附身崇拜”模式的认识,都是一个开端,这种模式挑战了父权制和男性权力的形式。对于受过良好教育的中产阶级来说,卢旺达在议会中拥有比其他任何国家都多的女性,以及许多政府部长。希勒能说一口流利的卢旺达语,他以一件生动的轶事作为开头:当地人群向警察、劳工和警卫扔石头,这些警察、工人和警卫被派去阻止当地人重建最近被拆除的房子,房子的主人是一名街头女摊贩,她无法向当地的“牢房”或社区行政人员行贿。贿赂(akantu,“一点东西”)是保持交换和好处流动的标志,但在这种情况下,不仅要求太多,而且行政长官援引了城市的总体规划,该规划将她的房子和该地区标记为最终拆除。人群不仅对抗拆迁,而且在事件发生时打电话给一个受欢迎的电台脱口秀节目。更令人感到侮辱的是,人群大声高呼“爱国”工作歌曲tuzarwubaka,这首歌在每周的义务社区服务(umuganda)期间使用。街头贩卖是房主的生计,是妇女们兜售农产品和“旧”衣服的一种生存策略。他们出售从店主或批发商那里购买或赊购的小单位产品,从而从价格差异中赚取边际利润。服装以45公斤的大捆运往世界各地,在当地被拆开,作为单独的物品在拍卖会上出售。然后,它们被一件一件地修补或创造性地重新设计,并重新命名为“国际”(mpuzamuhanga),而不是“用过的”、“二手的”或“丢弃的”。它们被称为caguwa。当地的时尚就是这样被创造出来的。古瓜不仅仅是“假货”(也有市场)或“二手”。瓜洼雇佣了成千上万的阿保子(裁缝),他们组成了缝纫合作社,使用泵缝机、煤熨斗和成堆的替换补丁和标签,“修补、工作污渍和更换品牌标签”(Shearer,第98页)。街头商人有他们自己的汇集合作社,所以每个星期或每个月都有人可以用整个池来偿还债务,买东西等等。许多人都是单身母亲,彼此分担照顾孩子的责任,经常没有男人陪伴。其他维持小规模生活的模式包括卫生合作社和公司(通常为军队所有),每天的工资不到1.5美元,而废物收集和分类者的工资略高(每天2美元);在20世纪20年代,引入了一些分拣机器。回到小插图,希勒说,“基加利作为一个有秩序的国家和温顺的人民的叙述,崩溃了,表明空间的生产和占领是激烈的竞争”(第98页)。警方平息了局势,关闭了广播电台和网站。警察说服大家坐下来开会,逮捕了四个人,关了几天,然后悄悄放了他们。对于这个城市来说,街头小贩、akajagari空间、非正式定居点和未充分就业的年轻人在道德上(混乱、不卫生)、经济上(不提供税基)和技术上(在不可持续的斜坡和湿地上)都存在问题。对于希勒来说,这个小插图说明了“对于21世纪大都市的城市居民来说,如何保护集体资源免受投机性城市主义的清算过程的威胁”(第24页)。 Bannyahe的居民被禁止升级或修复他们的房屋,因为他们一直在等待政府驱逐他们,并为他们提供重新安置的选择。这些房屋是他们用木头碎片建造的,然后用干泥砖和陶土砖进行改进。搬迁到新建的住宅区(Batsinda),或者根据对他们的房屋和土地的官僚评估接受金钱解决,这些评估越来越有争议。两者都不能接受。新公寓很小,单位成本远高于提供的补偿。他们无法从卢旺达住房银行(规划者想象的)获得可接受的贷款条件,因为它不会接受土地所有权或即将被夷为平地的房屋作为抵押(新住房建设跟不上驱逐的步伐)。他们被提供了三层的垂直体量住宅,以换取一楼带花园的住宅。许多人拥有多套房子,这些房子提供的租金将在拟议的重新安置中消失。班尼亚赫被指定为“一个卢旺达-芬兰投资财团的5600万美元开发项目”。共有728名业主表示反对。200人向法院提起诉讼,要求公平的金钱和解(不是新公寓)。他们输了。他们开始拆除自己的房子以示反抗,当国家试图将农村人口组织到集体定居计划(imidugudu)中,并实施新的建筑法规时,这种愤怒也发生在农村,比如要求金属屋顶取代传统的茅草屋顶。班尼亚赫的居民抗议班尼亚赫缺乏城市服务,认为这是国家的遗弃,他们使用了上层阶级用来反对他们的同一术语akajagari。从后者的角度来看,Akajagari是不守规矩的,无序的,从另一个角度来看,他被遗弃在自助中。正如胡达尼所言,“基加利干净的政治秩序背后的越界政治秩序”是通过使用国家安全机器来实现的,以营造一种秩序的表象。她这一章的标题是“政治放弃”,即“放弃城市包容和城市权利的承诺”。胡达尼说,总体规划没有像伊斯坦布尔的盖克孔都和其他城市那样,用基础设施(市政供水、电力和卫生设施)升级非正式定居点,在这些城市,非法占用和非正式建筑导致了要求提供服务和融入城市的政治压力,而是将非正式定居点重新划分为跨国资本投资的区域。胡达尼描述说,班尼亚河发展到1600多户家庭,主要的市场街在山顶,陡峭的斜坡向底部倾斜,当山上的水龙头干涸时,湿地提供水,那里有较小的市场街,五旬节派和新教教堂以及一些合作社提供了集体生活的社会结构。随着难民的返回,收回财产的压力越来越大,导致了土地纠纷。Bugesera区的城市金融边界就在Nyabarongo河及其周围的沼泽之外,标志着基加利的边界,在1994年大屠杀中许多尸体被丢弃的地方附近。它现在已成为资本主义投资的新地区。在20世纪60年代,比利时人将图西族牧民从北部省和其他地方迁移到这些采采蝇出没的低洼沼泽地,并试图让胡图族人以paysannat(法语中土地安置计划的术语)的方式工作。其中两座教堂(Nyamata和Ntarama)分别有10,000和6,000图西族人被杀,现在已成为种族灭绝纪念馆。胡达尼说,1994年在布格塞拉发生的种族灭绝大屠杀的强度表明,大量图西族人从其他地方搬迁。如今,Bugesera区是城市的前沿地带,是一个新的投资区,以计划中的价值130亿美元的坎贝国际机场(60%的资金由卡塔尔航空公司提供,预计到2032年将为1400万乘客提供服务)、一所新的农业和技术大学(政府与沃伦·巴菲特合作,巴菲特购买并捐赠了这片土地)、工业区、一个大型供水设施和一条中国建造的高速公路为基础。机场和其他新建筑由新加坡建筑管理局(BCA)的绿色标志评级系统监管。通往机场的路上的土地正在被投资者买下,因为他们意识到它的价值将会上升。在这里和其他六个示范城市建立了一站式中心(OSC),在那里可以完成所有许可和行政交易,以加快这一发展。osc还利用世界银行基于绩效的城市排名指数(投资和业务流程节省的总时间),在地区、城市和国家之间创造竞争,以吸引投资。 卢旺达正力争成为最容易经商的国家之一。2012年的分权政策旨在增加地区之间的绩效竞争,并制定更严格的法规。各区政府被授权聘用24小时清洁服务和垃圾清除服务,合同为期三年。卫生巡逻队(isoku irondo)提供监督和执法。Hudani说,135家卫生公司雇佣了13000多名工人(通常是工资很低的妇女),这些公司由国防部队以及当地的每月公共劳动(umuganda)团体经营和补贴。在电视上宣布各学区之间的竞赛(isuku,“创造订单”)(由imihigo(“承诺交付”)进行纪律处分),并使用绩效记分卡来监督目标的设定和交付。胡达尼指出,公共劳动被称为“志愿服务”,“甚至被国际劳工组织量化”,被城市吹捧以吸引投资。胡达尼说,城市贫民越来越多地在流离失所和被剥夺的浪潮中从一个地方搬到另一个地方。那些不符合新建筑标准和卫生规范的人被驱逐,与农村贫困人口一样,他们的土地被集体化,并被解放出来用于商业农业或保护,并被重新安置在新的住房计划(imidugudu)和绿色村庄。(3)第三个搬迁策略是绿色示范村。Rweru成立于2017年,是农村综合发展计划(IDP)的一部分。Rweru最初住了144个家庭,后来又住了140个家庭,住在四个单元的小区里(共用一个厕所和一个沼气池),用红砖建造,金属屋顶。在联合国开发计划署的“生态系统/景观方法应对气候变化——卢旺达农村住区方案”项目的资助下,到2024年将建成416个这样的村庄。Rweru是投资者和外国政要被带去参观的展示村。胡达尼称其为波将金村。村民们抱怨:沼气不起作用;雨水收集效果不佳;土地太小,不能种庄稼;那些从湖岛上重新安置的人抱怨说,他们不能耕种或捕鱼来满足他们的食物需求,也不能轻易离开去赚钱。“村庄化”最初是为返回的难民提供的农村重新安置方案。后来,它被证明是一种更合理的作物生产方式,得到了外部资金的支持,并以其他地方的项目为榜样,尤其是朱利叶斯·尼雷尔(Julius Nyerere)在20世纪70年代在坦桑尼亚的乌贾马(ujamaa)集体化或合作化的村庄,将排屋放在中心,周围是农业用地。乌干达和埃塞俄比亚也有类似的计划,朴正熙(Park Chung-hee)发展时期的韩国(1963-79)也是如此。胡达尼说,2006年,韩国的新村运动(SMU)被引入卢旺达和其他八个非洲国家。承诺是促进自给自足、生产力、大众参与基础设施管理、纪律(勤奋、自助、合作)和来自不同地方的人们(大规模)的融合。2001年,人权观察报告称,1997年至1999年间,100万人(22.5万户)被转移到集体村庄,将分散的人口集中起来,并打破农村社会的社会组织(Hudani认为这导致了种族灭绝,但她也认为这可能会支持对国家计划的抵制)。特别是在1998年之后,Hudani说,“许多卢旺达人经历了被迫重新安置,被迫摧毁自己的家园,搬迁到人烟稀少的米米杜古都定居点”,那里的建筑材料迅速短缺。居住/重新安置政策通过将人们(自愿或不自愿)迁入米米杜古都村庄,解决了gacaca法院纠纷中对房屋和土地的竞争性主张的复杂性。她说得不清楚,但绿色示范村项目似乎是对早期集体化的重新设想,在早期集体化中加入了气候和生态方面的考虑(和指标)。鉴于这三个例子,我们也不清楚城市化的目标是如何协调一致的。胡达尼表示,卢旺达的目标是到2024年将城市化率从18%至20%提高到35%。问题的规模令人生畏:她声称,2007年,60%的卢旺达人口生活在极端贫困中,35%的人营养不良。博克、希勒和胡达尼的实地考察的重要性揭示了,在日常城市谈判中,需要和过程的多重螺旋是可操作的和同时发生的,动员公民和政治意愿,超越了任何简单的技术、政治或经济解决方案新加坡的苏尔巴纳(Surbana)对基加利确实很重要,新加坡在规划、提供城市服务、教育、吸引外国投资和巧妙利用品牌方面仍然是一个重要的参考对象。 akajagari和caguwa的文化概念不仅为以经验为基础的认识论开辟了道路,而且为辩证的aporia开辟了道路,以平衡对立的命令或双重约束。Akajagari既是一种惩戒性的消极道德(不守规矩、不卫生),也是一种解放性的积极道德(多孔、灵活),而caguwa同样是将服装从“二手”、“二手”或“工厂次品”转变为创造性和独特的风格。基伍鲁霍拉佐扎(Kivu Ruhorazoza)的《灰质》(2011)和《父亲节》(2022)等电影提供了对当地叙事和心理压力的洞察,还有像希勒(Shearer)这样的小插曲,讲述了对拆迁的抵制,以及在向山上的非正式定居点取水时当地的瓶颈(因此也是赚钱的机会)。新加坡、达拉维(孟买)和曼彻斯特(英国)的比较案例可以让人们更加现实地认识到,相互竞争的激励和阻力正在发挥作用。建筑师Roland Dierterle为基加利会议中心在一个贫穷国家的昂贵和华丽辩护说,具有里程碑意义的项目展示了卢旺达的潜力,并向散居的卢旺达人展示了他们可以乐观地返回家园(Wild 2016)。他还为会议中心辩护,认为它是可持续能源发展的典范,是与玻璃建筑相反的概念。博克同样展示了如何激励和监管带来投资的公私伙伴关系,以防止金融资本失控。比较视角是无价的,不仅是二战后社会民主主义或社会主义欧洲和新加坡的住房重建,还有这些社会契约的衰落,最著名的是对英国曼彻斯特的描述(Meek 2024; Rose 2024)。同样值得警惕的是当代关于大规模贫民窟的斗争——达拉维(孟买)、基贝拉(内罗毕)、奥兰吉(卡拉奇)和卡耶利沙(开普敦)——通过公私合作,或从棚户到工人阶级社区的渐进改善,如伊斯坦布尔的盖克孔杜和b里约热内卢的贫民窟。在印度总理纳伦德拉·莫迪(Narendra Modi)和商人高塔姆·阿达尼(Gautam Adani)领导下的裙带资本主义与试图保护城市权利和为城市提供经济引擎的小企业生态的公民团体之间的斗争中,达拉维案尤其具有争议性。阿达尼引用了新加坡模式,但没有提到它的社会契约。博克、希勒和胡达尼的三种民族志提供了三种截然不同的视角,将“模型城市”、“全球城市”和“后全球城市”的概念开放给了更严格的现实主义,即金融和咨询的流通,以及适应每个人对城市权利的斗争,这不仅是社会正义的问题,也是文化宜居性和长期社会和生态可持续性的问题。
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来源期刊
CiteScore
2.80
自引率
8.30%
发文量
175
期刊介绍: The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute is the principal journal of the oldest anthropological organization in the world. It has attracted and inspired some of the world"s greatest thinkers. International in scope, it presents accessible papers aimed at a broad anthropological readership. It is also acclaimed for its extensive book review section, and it publishes a bibliography of books received.
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