Ghostly tower

The construction of the controversial Torre de Manila on Taft Avenue in Manila has been ordered stopped temporarily—and that’s a good thing for all parties concerned. The Supreme Court ruling has been hailed as a “beautiful birthday tribute” to the national hero by the Knights of Rizal, as well as “a gift to future generations.” But the development firm in the center of the controversy, part of the large group of companies known familiarly as DM Consunji Inc. or DMCI, may also want to look at the enforced break, coming on Jose Rizal’s 154th birth anniversary, as an opportune time to reconsider its options.

It is possible to argue, as its lawyers and some supporters of the project have done, that DMCI did everything legally, and still ran into controversy. It got a zoning permit in June 2012 and a building permit the following month; construction was suspended in November 2013, but it was resumed the following January after DMCI received an exemption from the zoning rules. Each of these approvals can be questioned, as they have been questioned, but even granting that they survive the closest legal and political scrutiny, the company will continue to face withering public criticism.

The company’s public-opinion situation can be summed up simply enough: Anyone who visits Rizal Park will see that Torre de Manila is a problem. It hulks behind the Rizal Monument, like the very ghost of runaway commerce casting an eerie shadow over the country’s history. The newfangled term “photobomber” (that is, an unwanted presence in a photograph) seems tailor-fit for it. Is this what DMCI wants to be known for? Despite its track record in building hospitals and five-star hotels and actual palaces, it will be known as the company that mocks Rizal’s own grave.

But the legal and political obstacles the company faces are formidable. In the first place, there is a zoning ordinance which limits the height of buildings in that part of Manila to seven floors. When completed, Torre de Manila will have 49 floors—seven times the limit. The decision of the city of Manila to grant the original zoning permit in 2012 under the Lim administration, and then a zoning exemption in 2014 under the Estrada administration, invites suspicion—not least because the former mayor, Alfredo Lim, and the incumbent, Joseph Estrada, are now blaming each other for green-lighting the tower. (Estrada, as usual, tried to have it both ways; he criticized Lim for allowing Torre de Manila to be constructed, but aired the hope that the project will not be stopped.)

Other obstacles loom. Sen. Pia Cayetano has questioned the failure of DMCI to follow the Manila zoning regulation setting a floor-to-area ratio of 4; according to the Manila City Council’s own estimate, Torre de Manila has a FAR of 7.79, almost twice that allowed. The Knights of Rizal, petitioner in the case which prompted the Supreme Court to issue a temporary restraining order, has assailed the building’s assault on the “visual corridor” involving the Rizal Monument. Members of the House of Representatives criticized the building for ruining “the sanctity of the Rizal Monument skyline.” It is entirely conceivable that Torre de Manila will be entangled in lawsuits both large and small for many years to come—hardly a welcome environment for prospective buyers.

But the root issue is the national heritage. Rizal Park—still popularly known as Luneta, as it was called for generations—is one of the Philippines’ most hallowed sites; it was the place of execution for many Filipinos who rose against the Spanish colonial regime, and most famously it was where Rizal was shot to death in 1896. Those who fought in both stages of the Philippine Revolution, as well as against the American occupation force beginning in 1899, recognized Rizal as inspiration and guide. It is no small thing that the Rizal Monument (built, not coincidentally, by donations from the public) is considered Kilometer 0. The country’s network of roads radiates from the resting place of the First Filipino.

Now that monument, celebrated for many generations, has been diminished by the hulking presence of Torre de Manila. Perhaps DMCI can reconsider the project, graciously accede to public opinion and—with just compensation from the city government that allowed it to build in the first place—take down the building.