Destruction, Memory, and Reconstruction

© Pexels / Алесь Усцінаў
© Pexels / Алесь Усцінаў

Institutional Communication Service

9 June 2026

War-torn cities require more than mere physical reconstruction; they must rediscover a sense of memory, identity, and a shared vision for the future. From post-Second World War Germany to the contemporary realities of Gaza and Ukraine, reconstruction raises questions that extend far beyond technical and urban planning considerations. We discussed these challenges with Matteo Vegetti, Adjunct Professor of Aesthetics and Spatial Philosophy at the USI Academy of Architecture, in an article produced in collaboration with laRegione.

The devastation caused by aerial bombardment and military action demands not only structural repairs but a complete reimagining of urban areas. In this regard, the events during and after the Second World War serve as a paradigm: major cities were devastated and, in some cases, reduced to rubble. This compelled a fundamental reassessment of urban design principles, as traditional architectural forms proved inadequate for the needs of a rapidly evolving society. This crisis forced a radical rethink of urban planning. Architects and designers began creating spaces that met immediate functional needs while also fostering a genuine sense of community and civic belonging. Post-war reconstruction is never simply about clearing debris and repairing buildings and infrastructure; it is about rebuilding a society from its foundations. This was true for post-war Europe, and it will be true tomorrow for other conflict zones, such as Ukraine or Gaza. We explored these themes with Matteo Vegetti, Adjunct Professor of Aesthetics and Spatial Philosophy at the USI Academy of Architecture and Professor of Spatial and Housing Theories at SUPSI.

Professor Vegetti, when people speak of "military architecture", they immediately think of fortifications, bunkers, and other defensive infrastructure. In your work, however, the central focus appears to be reconstruction—specifically, the transition from wartime devastation back to a framework of collective life. Is that correct?

"Yes, though my work stems from a broader perspective. I direct a research project dedicated to the "aerial spatial revolution", the impact that aviation technologies have had on society, cities, and the landscape from their inception to the present day. Warfare is a central driver of this transformation. Almost as soon as aviation was born, it was weaponised, initially for reconnaissance and subsequently for bombardment. It was aerial bombardment that fundamentally changed the conceptualisation of warfare. The first to grasp this was the Italian General Giulio Douhet, author of The Command of the Air (1921). Douhet foresaw that aviation would dismantle the traditional boundary between the military front and civilian space. The target would no longer be solely the enemy army, but a nation's entire infrastructure—transport networks, housing, energy grids, and factories. Through aviation, warfare directly penetrated urban space."

A transformation that became starkly evident during the twentieth century…

"Exactly. The first profound symbolic trauma was the bombing of Guernica, immortalised by Pablo Picasso's famous painting. Then came the systematic carpet-bombing campaigns of the Second World War: German cities were razed to the ground, alongside Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Today, we see this continued in contemporary conflict zones such as Ukraine, Syria, Gaza, and Iran. This shift does not only concern material destruction; it fundamentally impacts collective psychology, memory, and how a community perceives itself in the wake of trauma. This is precisely where reconstruction comes into play."

Yet, in the 1930s, certain modernist movements viewed destruction as an opportunity for urban rebirth…

"Yes. A faction of modernist architecture and avant-garde Futurism went so far as to interpret destruction as an opportunity for renewal—almost as a liberation from the past. However, that was a highly ideological and abstract viewpoint. A far more profound reflection can be found in W.G. Sebald's book On the Natural History of Destruction. Sebald documents the bombing of German cities as an event of almost incomprehensible scale: millions of homes destroyed, entire cities turned to rubble. Yet, he argues, German culture largely repressed that trauma. When devastation is too vast, collective psychological mechanisms of repression, denial, and displacement can take over. It is a dynamic we know well from psychoanalysis."

So, the destruction of a city is not merely the loss of its physical buildings?

"Absolutely not. The thought of the anthropologist Marcel Mauss is pivotal here; he asserted that every place is, by definition, tied to identity, relationships, and history. A city is not just physical matter; it is a symbolic construct. It is tied to identity because people recognise themselves in the spaces they inhabit; it is relational because space organises social, economic, and political interactions; and it is historical because every city is an archive of stratified memories. When a city is bombed, the ordnance strikes this entire interconnected fabric. For this reason, reconstruction is never a purely technical matter; it is fundamentally a political, cultural, and psychological process."

How does one approach reconstruction, then, after total devastation like that seen in Gaza today?

"The first distinction to make is between natural disasters and warfare. An earthquake can be catastrophic, but war introduces far more traumatic symbolic elements: an enemy, deliberate violence, and humiliation. Following a war, the priority must be to establish a shared vision for the future, which immediately brings us into the political sphere. Various strategies exist. One approach is "historically faithful" reconstruction—rebuilding everything exactly "as it was". Several East German cities chose this path. However, it carries a risk: it can erase the physical traces of trauma, acting as if nothing happened. Another approach is to retain the scars. This was done in Hiroshima and Berlin, where certain ruins were preserved as living memorials. In my view, this is a crucial choice, because those fragments maintain an active dialogue with the past."

In this context, does the monument become a central element?

"Certainly. The monument is an architecture of memory. To commemorate literally means "to build a memory together". However, every monument represents a political choice: it dictates what is remembered, how it is remembered, and the meaning ascribed to those events.

Turning to current events, how do you interpret the reconstruction plan proposed by Donald Trump for Gaza?

"I view it as a continuation of destruction by other means. It masquerades as reconstruction, but in reality, it entails a total eradication of the site's identity, history, and relational fabric. It represents both a physical and symbolic erasure. It proposes a residential model entirely alien to the history and population of Gaza, tailored instead for an indefinite, wealthy international demographic. This is speculative, tourism-driven architecture, completely divorced from the local landscape, religion, and customs. In this sense, architecture can function as a colonial tool."

A contemporary form of damnatio memoriae

"Precisely."

Looking at Ukraine, what approach to reconstruction do you envision there?

"In Ukraine, too, reconstruction will have to address the question of identity. The country will find itself redefining its relationship with both its Soviet past and with Europe. It will need to establish its symbolic "place" and develop a concept of housing and living spaces befitting a modern democracy. Architecture will play an essential role here: public spaces, monuments, infrastructure, and urban vernaculars will all contribute to building a new sense of collective belonging. However, much will depend on the economic interests that come into play."

During the twentieth century, major architectural breakthroughs often emerged in the wake of wars. Could that happen again?

"I do not believe we will witness the emergence of new avant-gardes like those of the last century. Today, the central challenge is different: the relationship between human settlement and the natural environment. The true challenge uniting contemporary architecture and urban planning centres on sustainability, ecological regeneration, energy, water, transport, the quality of the public realm, collective housing, and social integration. The cities of the future must be designed to coexist with climate change and fragile ecosystems."

So, must the very methods of construction fundamentally change?

"Yes. Today, we must design not only for construction, but also for deconstruction and adaptive reuse. Every building should be designed with its eventual disassembly in mind, ensuring materials can be reclaimed. This represents a massive paradigm shift. Western architecture has historically been obsessed with the concept of permanence. Today, however, we must confront finitude, transformation, and the necessity to build without compromising the future of our environment. This is the arena where architecture, ecology, and politics must cooperate."

Content produced and published in collaboration with laRegione. (Italian only)