OPINION IN BYRUMMONITOR: HELLE JUUL: WE’VE FORGOTTEN TO ASK OURSELVES HOW WE USE ARCHITECTURE TO STRENGTHEN DEMOCRACY
In Denmark, we often take democracy for granted. In Poland, it’s something people have fought for—and something still experienced as vulnerable. This shapes their approach to the built environment, writes Helle Juul.
“In a world where antisemitism and global conflicts continue to rise, the lessons of history and the horrors of the past must never be forgotten,” said Jacob Henningsen, Denmark’s ambassador to Poland, on January 27th 2025 at the commemoration of the liberation of Auschwitz.
His words carry a universal reminder: history must not only be remembered in books and speeches—it must live on in our physical surroundings. Architecture is not merely the backdrop to life; it is a builder of culture, a bearer of memory, and a framework for community. It shapes us, connects us—and it remembers.
Bricks carrying memory
In Denmark, preserving buildings is often linked to climate concerns and the desire to protect cultural heritage. Our half-timbered houses and suburban developments evoke familiarity and peace. Even the concrete blocks of the post-war era form part of our shared identity – not something we necessarily celebrate, but neither something we deny.
In Poland, the picture is different. Entire residential districts stand as physical reminders of Soviet occupation and an imposed architecture that stripped citizens of identity and freedom. Walking through urban Polish neighborhoods, one still sees the grey concrete blocks, but you will also sense a deep desire to rewrite the story. Poland is more than its past.
This became clear during the conference in Łódź, organized by the Danish Embassy in Warsaw and Urban Future 25 (UF25). Polish architects and planners expressed a clear ambition: to create a new narrative through architecture – one of hope, participation, and European solidarity.
Democracy is also built in brick and mortar
At the conference, I gave two talks – one on heritage and modernization, and one on the theme Schools of Resilience, exploring the future of schools. I presented our feasibility study – a transformation project of one among many 1930s school buildings in Warsaw in urgent need of renovation. It became clear that architecture is not just about form and function—it’s about values. Especially when it comes to democracy and community.
In Denmark, we often take democracy for granted. In Poland, it is something people have had to fight for – and still see as fragile. This shapes their approach to both architectural culture and education: the school is not only a place of learning but also of participation, democratic awareness, and shared identity.
That is an insight worth bringing home. How do we in Denmark create physical frameworks that strengthen social cohesion, promote participation, and support our democratic culture?
Architecture and memory are not just tools for understanding the past – they are signposts for the future. And as antisemitism, extremism, and polarization once again gain ground in Europe, it becomes essential that we not only remember—but also act.
Denmark has forgotten to ask
In Denmark, we rightly focus on climate and functionality when designing new neighbourhoods, schools, and public spaces. But the question is whether we’ve forgotten to ask ourselves:
- How do we use architecture to strengthen democracy?
- How do we support community and identity?
- How do we make room for legacy – even the difficult kind?
If we don’t actively use the built environment to bridge generations, cultures, and experiences, we risk losing both memory and community. And with them – the opportunity to grow and evolve as a society.
We must have the conversation. About what we build. Why we build. And what we want to remember—not only about ourselves, but about the world we’re part of. Only by understanding architecture’s role in carrying and conveying our shared memory can we use it as a bridge toward a more democratic, cohesive, and hopeful future.
Published in Byrummonitor