The news that a beautiful Mughal-era 395-year old small bridge, built on the orders of the Emperor Jahangir as it hindered his hunting exploits just near Lahore, has been demolished, makes sad news for all those who care.

But then rare Mughal-era structures need special attention and constant care, what to speak of them being first identified, then maintained, conserved and protected. So let us look at two such structures, and see just what end they have met. One in Lahore has been on hold for the last five years, pending clearance from bureaucrats. The other has been completely destroyed. The story of Lahore’s heritage is a warped VIP-driven one, which in essence means that in the near future a few monuments will survive, with the rest just fading away. But then heritage, like true love, should never fade. The pain should remain.

Let us discuss the two monuments mentioned and see what end they have met. Just for clarity both are UNESCO-protected. The first is the ancient Mughal-era Lahore Fort Wall, built by the Emperor Akbar, which collapsed in 2018. The damaged portion is the north-eastern portion of the Lahore Fort Wall. Detailed work on archaeological aspects before final rebuilding of the damage have been held up. A Punjab government official confirmed an expert’s view that the wall has “been stabilised”. Sounds like a ‘Yes Minister’ response.

The wall’s collapse, however, provided an opportunity to explore and investigate the basement area, with several layers of limestone construction becoming visible because of the fall. Back in 2018 the Lahore Fort started experiencing ‘drainage problems’ when a new ‘modern’ water disposal plan was being put in place. They described it as ‘modernisation’, despite the warning that “a contractor’s view was getting precedence over academically rigorous conservation rules”. It is not rocket science that water flows according to gravity.

So as the north-eastern side of the fort was the portion where the new water flow was heading towards, it did not cater to the possibility of an overflow. The old traditional system headed out to ‘disposal points’ that protruded out of the walls. So when the new system headed southwards, what was forgotten was that in the case of an overflow in the old system, the dug-up portion had to be compacted properly. What was done was that loose earth was not properly undertaken.

So over time as water filled up the space between the old Mughal-era wall and the inner mud loosely-compacted filling, a gap started opening up. The WCLA was informed of a ‘pending probable problem’. A report was sent which was shelved. Slowly and steadily the wall gap widened and then one day in October 2018 the ancient south-eastern portion collapsed.

In a way the collapse had a positive outcome too, for the lower portions of the exposed wall showed layers of lime plaster construction. My mind then raced to the proposition that in the 1956 archaeological dig opposite the ‘Diwan-e-Aam’, at 50 feet they had discovered pottery which on carbon-dating was found to be over 4,500 years old. Also we know that when the ‘Shahi Hammam’ was conserved that the foundation upper layer was 12 feet below the current outer surface.

From these local examples serious academics had hoped that the wall fall had provided an excellent opportunity to research the past 4,000 years. This is what has now been demanded and there is just no funding ‘officially approved’ so far. We have been constantly reminding people that they accept the fact that Lahore is a mid-to-late Harappa period development, with the possibility of small hamlets existing on the mounds of Lahore when the River Ravi curled around them. Ultimately the river ‘meandered’ westwards to its present position over a mile away. That is how all river behave.

What is clear is that the lower plastering is ancient by any account. There is a need for the Archaeology Department to be called in for them to take samples for further research. Money problems always exist, especially when piety-driven faraway shrines get precedence over old and ancient monuments. Plus there is no effort in Lahore to collect funds for serious conservation efforts from the citizens of Lahore, or Punjab, or even Pakistan, let alone large business concerns with whooping profits. So in a way we are all to blame.

Why is this so? My response is that we would rather spend on an expensive dinner than donate that amount to a trustworthy Endowment Fund dedicated to conservation. One assumes this is the outcome of a dispensation that despises education and is dedicated to political piety that depends on ‘imagined narratives’.

Given the experience of the Lahore Fort wall fall, a fresh study of water flows depending on gravitational pulls needs to be undertaken to examine just how does the changed design cater to ‘overflows’. There is no harm being cautious.

Let us now go on to the second area of concern. In the first there exists the possibility of a complete reversal of the wrongs done, but in the case of Jahangir’s bridge at Kot Pindi Das, we have a situation where the contractor has completely demolished this 395-year old bridge and replaced it with a spanking new one.

How did this old bridge come about? The fable is that the Emperor Jahangir was out hunting in the forest between Lahore and Sheikhupura, when he failed to complete his hunt as the River Degh hampered his chase. For the details we will recommend the work of the famous travel writer Salman Rashid. He was the first to report on the threatened bridge.

So on the emperor’s orders this beautiful small-brick bridge was built, and it was serving the area pretty well. For even more details consult the Smithsonian Institute’s report on Mughal era bridges, where this is classified as an ‘architectural gem’. From Mughal records we know that this bridge was inspected by the emperor himself, who liked what he saw. By that account the bridge near Kot Pindi Das should have been 395 years old.

But then the Punjab government, pushed by a local elected politician, decided to knock down this faraway small bridge on the pretext that it was endangering life because of its age. The Archaeology Department pretends they never knew of this ‘Jahangir’s Gem’. Plus how could a small bridge in ‘hidden’ Kot Pindi Das interest our experts. So a longer curling portion was designed and money sanctioned in record time.

There is one detail that needs to be made clear. That is that the new bridge work started before the old one was knocked down. So by any account the old one was not coming in the way of the new much longer ‘beauty’. My research on the issue tells me that a respected conservation organisation warned the government of knocking down such a ‘gem’ as the world calls it.

So here we have two examples of just how much we really care about our past. One just has to be rebuilt, but archaeological research is being hampered. The second one has been done away with completely. One wonders what the future hold. Let me mention that another Jahangir-era bridge near the Kala Khatai-Sialkot Motorway on the Degh Nullah has a local politician eying it. So beware. I suggest a complete survey of such bridges be undertaken so as to save them from our political-bureaucratic-contractor complex.

Published in Dawn, February 27th, 2022