S.O.S. from the past; saving our heritage in stone
S.O.S. from the past; saving our heritage in stone
Why not face the truth? Life would be a good deal easier for many people if there were no old buildings. Ever since man stopped living in caves he has been raising edifices into which he has put the best of himself, his knowledge and his dreams. He has raised so many that it has been impossible to destroy them all, even though many allies have worked at the job fire, earthquakes, war, invading conquerors, time and oblivion.
Every civilization has sacked, crushed, pillaged and burned. Temples, churches and entire cities have been razed. The kings of antiquity destroyed the images and sanctuaries of enemy gods; Rome-sowed the ruins of Carthage with salt; Christianity overturned temples to build its first cathedrals. Modern civilization has done little better.
But in the eyes of some these losses mean little. What if there are lands where man has stubbornly striven for greatness for 5,000 years? What if these lands are literally sown with relics of past civilizations and are the altars of civilization itself? Cities drowned under sand, temples on the banks of rivers, castles clinging to mountainsides, churches, palaces, mosques. Why preserve them? Why repair and restore them? There are those to whom it is a waste of time and money.
Back in the Paris of 1945 when food was rationed and wine was rare, a restaurant owner complained one day to his customers: "It's a scandal. We don't have butter, but we pay taxes so that they can throw our money "away on ruins and museums." He had a good deal in common with the farmer who wanted to pull down an old Gallo-Roman wall to make room for a chicken run.
The people who sneer at old stones are not always ignorant men. To some urban planners with visions of wide avenues, geometrically-aligned buildings and easy-flowing traffic, a stubborn old quarter with winding medieval alleys is too often a stumbling block to progress.
But not to all of them. In many a city, architects and engineers are defending the ramparts of history and their voices are echoed in municipal councils. A Gothic town hall may not be as efficient as a modern steel-and-concrete building but tourists seldom go out of their way to look at office buildings and tourists mean prosperity for all nations.
Happily, the magic of ancient stones has lost none of its awe for large numbers of people. Today it has spread to buildings which would have been scorned by our ancestors. A humble country inn is carefully preserved because it stood at an important crossroads for two centuries. It recalls a date or a series of events which may have faded from our daily lives. Historical buildings deepen our feeling for history and the great heritage of the past which we call culture.
But above all we cherish these ancient buildings because they are miracles of beauty irrespective of the religion or civilization which produced them. We recognize that beauty cannot be the monopoly of any century or any tradition.
Today men are at work everywhere in an effort to preserve our heritage of beauty or to repair those parts which have been destroyed or mutilated by the frenzy of war. Entire nations have joined forces to protect our cultural past. Engineers and architects, curators and archaeologists are aiding each other across frontiers. Unesco has helped to organize and support their work. It has sent men to ancient Cuzco in Peru, to Ochrida in Yugoslavia, to Baalbek and Palmyra in the Middle East. It has helped create the International Council of Museums, and has prepared a new international code of law, now signed by 38 nations, to protect works of art and historical buildings should any future armed conflict occur.
Mankind's heritage is too great and too rich for us to do anything less than everything within our power to prevent it from being lost.