On September the 4th 2010 and February 22nd 2011
the Canterbury region of New Zealand was shaken by
two massive earthquakes. This paper is set broadly
within the civil defence and emergency management
literature and informed by recent work on community
participation and social capital in the building of resilient
cities. Work in this area indicates a need to recognise
both the formal institutional response to the earthquakes
as well as the substantive role communities play in their
own recovery. The range of factors that facilitate or
hinder community involvement also needs to be better
understood. This paper interrogates the assumption
that recovery agencies and officials are both willing
and able to engage communities who are themselves
willing and able to be engaged in accordance with
recovery best practice. Case studies of three community
groups – CanCERN, Greening the Rubble and Gap
Filler – illustrate some of the difficulties associated
with becoming a community during the disaster
recovery phase. Based on my own observations and
experiences, combined with data from approximately
50 in-depth interviews with Christchurch residents
and representatives from community groups, the
Christchurch City Council, the Earthquake Commission
and so on, this paper outlines some practical strategies
emerging communities may use in the early disaster
recovery phase that then strengthens their ability to
‘participate’ in the recovery process.
Creative temporary or transitional use of vacant urban open spaces is
seldom foreseen in traditional urban planning and has historically been
linked to economic or political disturbances. Christchurch, like most
cities, has had a relatively small stock of vacant spaces throughout
much of its history. This changed dramatically after an earthquake and
several damaging aftershocks hit the city in 2010 and 2011; temporary
uses emerged on post-earthquake sites that ran parallel to the “official”
rebuild discourse and programmes of action. The paper examines
a post-earthquake transitional community-initiated open space (CIOS)
in central Christchurch. CIOS have been established by local community
groups as bottom-up initiatives relying on financial sponsorship,
agreements with local landowners who leave their land for temporary
projects until they are ready to redevelop, and volunteers who build
and maintain the spaces. The paper discusses bottom-up governance
approaches in depth in a single temporary post-earthquake community
garden project using the concepts of community resilience and social
capital. The study analyses and highlights the evolution and actions of
the facilitating community organisation (Greening the Rubble) and the
impact of this on the project. It discusses key actors’ motivations and
values, perceived benefits and challenges, and their current involvement
with the garden. The paper concludes with observations and recommendations about the initiation of such projects and the challenges for those wishing to study ephemeral social recovery phenomena.
The city of Christchurch, New Zealand, was until very recently a “Junior England”—a small city that still bore the strong imprint of nineteenth-century British colonization, alongside a growing interest in the underlying biophysical setting and the indigenous pre-European landscape. All of this has changed as the city has been subjected to a devastating series of earthquakes, beginning in September 2010, and still continuing, with over 12,000 aftershocks recorded. One of these aftershocks, on February 22, 2011, was very close to the city center and very shallow with disastrous consequences, including a death toll of 185. Many buildings collapsed, and many more need to be demolished for safety purposes, meaning that over 80 percent of the central city will have gone. Tied up with this is the city’s precious heritage—its buildings and parks, rivers, and trees. The threats to heritage throw debates over economics and emotion into sharp relief. A number of nostalgic positions emerge from the dust and rubble, and in one form is a reverse-amnesia—an insistence of the past in the present. Individuals can respond to nostalgia in very different ways, at one extreme become mired in it and unable to move on, and at the other, dismissive of nostalgia as a luxury in the face of more pressing crises. The range of positions on nostalgia represent the complexity of heritage debates, attachment, and identity—and the ways in which disasters amplify the ongoing discourse on approaches to conservation and the value of historic landscapes.
