Chile is a country that should be prepared for dealing with natural disasters, but it’s not. The greatest earthquake registered in the history of humanity, which was followed by a seaquake, took place near the city of Valdivia on 22 May 1960 – only 50 years ago. 

In 71 years, less than one century, the forces of nature struck in different cities and rural locations throughout Chile: the earthquake in Chillán on 27 February 1939; Valdivia on 22 May 1960; Santiago on 3 march 1985; Punitaqui on 14 October 1997; Tarapacá on 13 June 2005; Tocopilla on 14 November 2007; Cobquecura on 27 February 2010; the volcano eruption in Chaitén on 2 May 2008.

We would seem to be a country with a very weak memory, incapable of learning from all these experiences. It is evident that our geographic condition determines our existence, our past, present and future. Considering this number of catastrophes it is obvious that, as far as natural disasters are concerned, we should be a country in a constant state of alert, always prepared to react and respond in an opportune and effective manner. But every time nature unleashes its force, one has the impression that we are starting all over again. It really is difficult to understand.

However, we have learnt something along the way from these large natural disasters. For example, Chile has anti-earthquake building legislation in place that has avoided even greater numbers of fatalities, at least in the places where housing was built in accordance with that legislation and there was rigorous inspection of the building processes. 

But the key point here is that an earthquake, or any other form of natural catastrophe, is not limited only to the duration of the natural phenomenon itself; it includes everything that comes after it. Because there is always a “before” and an “after” for each natural disaster – a “before” that could be one of owning, learning and preparation but, as this does not happen in reality, produces an undesired “after”, the real disaster that remains. 

Present 

The most recent earthquake/seaquake, which took place on 27 February 2010 at 3:34 a.m., extended to a radius of some 300 to 500 kilometres from the epicentre in the ocean off the coast from the rural settlement of Curanipe. Fifteen to twenty minutes after the earthquake, a seaquake hit the coastal zone, destroying everything in its path. The consequences were devastating, with loss of human life (mostly due to the seaquake) and material destruction. The final tally: 521 people killed, 56 disappeared, 800,000 injured, not to mention the amount of collateral damage, which is very difficult to quantify. 

As far as the material damage caused by the earthquake/seaquake is concerned, the latest survey identifies 200,000 dwellings destroyed or seriously damaged, plus 76 hospitals, 56 medical centres and four thousand schools and educational facilities damaged and 200 bridges destroyed or damaged. The earthquake took place at 3:34 a.m. when most people were sleeping, so one can imagine that the consequences could have been much worse had it hit during the day (especially a work day). 

In Santiago, the country’s most populous city, the earthquake measured 7.9 on the Richter scale and the damage was considerably less than in many other areas closer to the epicentre. Some parts of the city were more affected than others. Things generally returned to normal in just a few days, making most people oblivious to the suffering of those families who were really badly affected. On the one hand, this reveals that the standard of construction is of such quality that it can withstand an impact such as that that took place; but on the other, it emphasises the differences and segregations established by the city.

This earthquake was truly impressive, the fifth strongest ever recorded in the world and the most devastating in Chile since the earthquake of 1960 in Valdivia. What is lamentable is that most of the deaths were really not due to the earthquake/seaquake themselves but to human failure by those responsible for issuing the seaquake warning.

This disaster not only shook and destroyed everything it could, but was also a veritable real-time snapshot that portrayed us as a country with serious structural failures:

• It’s hard to believe that a country like ours does not have an efficient seaquake warning system, as such a phenomenon can happen at any given moment – an empirical fact – or in any given place, considering that the Pacific Ocean, with the Nazca tectonic plate directly below it, forms one of our territorial borders;

• Communication and coordination problems during and after the earthquake: most of the fatal victims and the disappeared came as a result of the seaquake, due to lack of warning;

 • The destruction of badly built roads and bridges, which are fundamental for the development of a country like Chile;

• The lack of an action plan in a state of emergency;

• The destruction of the architectural heritage, largely adobe brick structures erected without anti-earthquake legislation;

• The destruction of and damage to new structures, evidencing lack of inspection;

• The pillaging and social disorder in face of a lack of policing in the affected areas;

• The failure of communication in the affected areas; 

• The lack of water and electricity, given that the systems largely depend on private companies and the situation was beyond their capacity of response;

• The lack of an immediate food distribution plan.  

All this takes place when the country is apparently experiencing one of its best periods of growth ever. But faced with a catastrophe, it’s as if, suddenly, we are still the same country we were 50 years ago.

Political earthquake

To understand what went on after the earthquake one has to contextualise the political moment in which it took place.

It so happens that, at the time of the earthquake Chile was, and still is, undergoing important political changes. Two weeks after the earthquake, the right wing took power for the first time in 52 years. The Concertation government – an umbrella political formation for the parties that opposed the Pinochet dictatorship – came to power in 1991. This was possible after a number of secret agreements with the Pinochet regime that enabled the change of power to be transformed into something similar to an eternal transition from dictatorship to democracy.

During this period a neo-liberal economic model was kept in place; advances were made in social protection but the wide gap between the rich and poor remained. This is seen as the great divide left behind by the Concertation government that ended up leading to the disenchantment of a section of the Chilean population, which finally defeated them. While, on the one hand, the Concertation government was incapable of listening to criticism of its management, which prevented it from growing, on the other hand, the internal power struggles together with cases of corruption finally led to its internal collapse. Curiously enough, the Concertation government (1991-2010) was in power almost the same length of time as Pinochet’s military regime (1973-1990). 

The right, led by the current President, Sebastián Piñera, came to power ten days after the earthquake. It is a government whose strength seems to be based firstly on professional excellence, independent of political favours, secondly on the emphasis given to social matters, thirdly on the great trust that the promises made will be held and, lastly and above all, on great commitment to the future.

Future

Faced with this scenario of a country devastated and undergoing political change, what primarily emerges is questions.

What can I do as an architect? Do I have the necessary tools and sufficient experience to make a contribution? Who is responsible for coordinating the reconstruction plan? How does one respond to an emergency situation with quality and with the long term in mind, when the times of those who lost everything, the response times for the projects and the time of a government that has to show capacity of response without forfeiting quality are juxtaposed with one another? Is that possible? Is it legitimate for the government to use the earthquake as an instrument in achieving its goals? Who can guarantee the quality of the reconstruction solutions? Who really has the knowledge or the experience to tackle a problem of this magnitude? Who really has to take on responsibility for a task of this size? Private bodies (such as contractors and associations of architects), civilian society, the government, or an alliance of all of these? Should it be those who lost every-
thing, the residents of the destroyed settlements, who decide who should rebuild a place and how it should be rebuilt? Or should it be left to the authorities and specialists to make those decisions? How much time should pass before being able to offer quality solutions? What is this thing we call quality when what we need is basic, emergency responses? In what way can the 52 architecture schools in the country contribute to reconstruction? Is this an opportunity to rethink the role of the university in terms of investigation, action and contribution to the community? What responsibility do the universities have in housing problems, in preparing for disasters and future responses? Do the 52 architecture schools have a response to these problems?

Perhaps one of the few certainties is that we now have a unique opportunity to propose, discuss and act. 

Action

It is an indisputable fact that it’s times like these that serve to judge us as architects, firstly because many buildings suffered damage or simply collapsed as a result of the earthquake. But we are also assessed in our urgent response to the need for housing, schools, health centres, kindergartens, etc. Curiously enough, most of these first responses do not come from architects.

The responses to the emergency situation were diverse – from tents as emergency housing, mobile facilities of diverse types, military tents for medical facilities to the now well-known media agua [temporary hut]. Although the disaster was on a very large scale, one can question the capacity of response we showed as a country, for, despite the fact that we have repeatedly experienced similar situations, there were no solutions in place in advance to deal with damage on this scale, a fact that is verifiable by the import of foreign solutions. Considering the history and recurrence of natural disasters in our country, it would be logical to think that Chile should be an expert in and exporter of solutions for emergency situations, instead of being a country brought to its knees by an earthquake.

The media agua is a basic structure measuring 3 by 6 metres and having a zinc roof. It does not have insulation or sanitary installations or electricity. It sometimes doesn’t have a floor and sometimes there is no quality control in the construction and it is erected without qualified labour. Its sole purpose is to provide an emergency shelter for those who lose their homes. It has become an emblematic emergency housing solution and the symbol (and an instrument) of the political discourse in dealing with the catastrophe. Almost three months after the earthquake, the government declared the emergency situation over, having reached the symbolic target of 45,000 medias aguas, 20,000 of which were built by volunteers from Un Techo para Chile [A Roof for Chile] (a total of 71,749 people committed to a cause).

Weeks later the first permanent dwelling was delivered: 46 square metres, a unit that embodies the defining discourse of the post-emergency phase – reconstruction. With the emphasis on phrases such as “quality of life”, the technical solutions were that determine the safety and habitability of the housing were praised. Thus, the inclusion of earthquake-proof building systems and investment in aspects such as thermal insulation are highlighted with great pride. Without doubt it would seem to be a major improvement on the media agua. 

But, to return to the idea of the “opportunity” that this disaster brings with it in terms of proposing, discussing and creating housing (and schools, cities, etc.), the great question for architecture as a discipline emerges: how to contribute solutions? The emphasis placed on the expression “quality of life”, which would seem to define the technical variable of the permanent housing proposals presented recently in different media, seems to be right, but insufficient. Other matters are forgotten because they are more removed from the immediate technical objective, having more to do with symbolic dimensions that also make considerable contributions to the living quality. Spatial quality, aesthetic quality, the expected image of the neighbourhoods and city sectors to be rebuilt (public space, neighbourhood image, etc.) feature as symbolic values that, in the short term, do not figure as priorities, but which, in the long term, determine the real assessment that can transform a neighbourhood or a house into something marginal and of low quality. 

The damage left behind by the earthquake/seaquake is without doubt a complex reality involving a large range of factors (material, cultural, socio-economic, political, technical, societal, etc.). The responses will have to deal with the scenario from different perspectives and through different disciplines; they have to be complex responses. Likewise, architecture must not cancel certain variables on account of an emergency situation, but must seek to deftly combine the (intrinsically necessary) technical aspects and the symbolic aspects that have to do with architecture only (and not with construction, engineering or the economy) so that it can come up with a complex response, using its own tools, that meets the needs of the victims. 

Public/private

Part of the discourse of the current right-wing government in coming to power was always the idea of an alliance between the private (entrepreneurs and economic groups) and public sectors as a way of making the work of the latter more effective.

The earthquake turned out to be the ideal opportunity for the government to put that theory into practice in advance. On the one hand, the large economic groups in the country, made up largely of major enterprises and businessmen, took charge of specific damaged areas to which they have particular family ties or in which their companies production bases. The collaborations range from the mere provision of funds to participation in urban reconstruction and consultancy.

One of the emblematic cases of this type of alliance is the reconstruction of the city of Constitución. The project is called the Constitución Sustainable Reconstruction Plan [PRES Constitución in Spanish] and is headed by ARUP and ELEMENTAL (Alejandro Aravena) in partnership with the private enterprise ARAUCO and the government. The solution adopted seeks to channel public and private resources through a professional excellence plan. 

A similar case is the project being carried out on the island of Juan Fernández by the AOA (Architectural Office Association of Chile), which has a large number of architect members. They are responsible for rebuilding the sea front in San Juan Bautista, having achieved an agreement between the town council of Lo Barnechea and the government known as the Sustainable Strategic Reconstruction Plan (PRES). 

Although no one can question the good intentions behind this form of conducting government work, thoughts of conflicts of interest are inevitable.

What happens when a mayor or local government off-
icer, without consulting the victims, closes a deal with a construction company by which the latter takes over the reconstruction? Is the professional excellence argument a valid one or is it just a elegant way of avoiding being assessed?

What is going on when the government decides to award 14.5 million dollars to the three largest building materials firms in the country for the distribution of building materials without any official tender process?

It is early days yet in the whole process and already more and more questions are being raised; only three months have passed since the earthquake and it is estimated that the reconstruction process will take at least four years, if not more.

It is still not possible to predict natural disasters, but we can be prepared for their consequences and the really big question is: have we learnt something this time around?|