Is Lisbon Destroying Its Own Charm? A Provocative Look at Urban Decay and Architectural Identity

The Tragic Transformation of Lisbon

For decades, Lisbon has been caught in a suicidal frenzy. Those who truly love the city—and love is the highest form of truth—know that much of the Metropolitan Area has become uninhabitable. There's a 'Lisbon-Lisbon' that ends at Marquês de Pombal: this is the Lisbon that locals are proud of, celebrated in fado music, and pursued by tourists. Beyond that, an 'anti-Lisbon' of increasingly blatant horrors emerges—ugly, unworthy, an insult to itself, its Tagus River, and its light.

Thoughtful Lisbon residents understand this reality: they see the oppressive dystopias of Chelas, Olivais, and even Benfica—gray concrete Soviet-style mazes repeated thousands of times in cheap materials—and know it's unnatural to live in a Scandinavian-like gloom at the latitude of Izmir, Palermo, and Naples, south of Istanbul.

Central Decay and Lost Heritage

The problem is far from just suburban; it's central, both geographically and spiritually. Saldanha was once a proper square, a space of harmony and civic enjoyment. Through demolitions and architectural audacities, it has become a banal place people pass through out of obligation. Avenida da República recently showcased magnificent Belle Époque mansions, but that too has died.

Modern Monstrosities and Future Threats

The sinister tower at Sete Rios, grotesquely named the 'Infinity Tower', exemplifies what's wrong with Lisbon. New atrocities loom, despite efforts by few defenders: the Rato area will soon be disfigured by a monument to bad taste, and behind the Belém Tower, a dysmorphic 'museum' is planned under a dignified guise. The architect Libeskind's signature, celebrated by media and our provincialism, is the only noble factor in this new monster. Like the massive EDP building—a totalitarian block by the river—these are condemnations of a stupid bourgeoisie with fatal taste.

European Contrasts and Provincial Insecurities

Rural and impressionable, this bourgeoisie sees modernity in concrete and glass cubes, unaware that while Portugal zealously destroys Lisbon, Europe revives Dresden and Potsdam, Berlin rebuilds its Stadtschloss, Budapest regains pre-communist charm, England embraces vernacular architecture, and Paris suburbs develop neo-traditional cities. If Notre Dame was restored identically, here it would be dismissed as historicist delirium. The poor Ajuda Palace or the closed Sé Cathedral end that debate. As Pessoa said, provincialism is seeing civilization from afar, mimicking without understanding—our sad fate.

Self-Hatred and the Path Forward

Lisbon has forgotten to love itself. Its tragedy lies in self-hatred turned extreme xenophilia, a symptom of national insecurity. Unless we end this, it will end us and Lisbon: no one will want to live in a 'Kishinev-on-the-Tagus' or visit it. Don't complain later.