By Don Mowatt, retired Canadian broadcaster and award-winning writer whose radio programmes, stage plays and stories have been seen and heard across North America and Europe
The passing away of His Highness Prince Karim Al-Hussaini, Aga Khan IV, Imam (spiritual leader) of the Shia Ismaili Muslims, in Lisbon on 4 February 2025 brings to the surface two decades of memories associated with his accomplishments and my first hand observations of them, particularly in the realm of the Aga Khan Award for Architecture
In the spring of 1991, I was asked to meet a small group of Ismailis for lunch in Vancouver, BC, to discuss the possibilities of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) making a series of broadcasts on Islamic Architecture. At that time, I was a radio producer for the CBC in Vancouver and a major contributor to the acclaimed national series, called IDEAS, broadcast nightly across Canada.
As the discussion developed, it became clear to us all that the most workable possibility for such a series should focus on the buildings and sites connected to the Award which would serve as a representative reflection on the faith in action. Once the submission had been made to the IDEAS board in Toronto, my education in the history of Islam in general and the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in particular, began in earnest.
At some point, the idea of my attending the next Award prize giving ceremony in Samarkand, Uzbekistan arose along with the possibility of my interviewing Aga Khan IV himself, who at that time had only given one interview to a Canadian broadcaster.
“Architecture is the only art form,” postulated Aga Khan IV, “with direct impact on the quality of life… And, in Islamic architecture, there is a spirituality that considers the impact on the welfare of the community and the natural environment.”
The Aga Khan Award for Architecture was established in 1977 to enhance the understanding and appreciation of Islamic culture as expressed in architecture. The prizes given by it are intended to identify and recognize projects that incorporate contemporary design, social housing, community improvement, restoration and area conservation as well as landscape and environmental issues. The object is to discover and encourage building concepts that most successfully address the needs and aspirations of societies in which Muslims have a significant presence, with a particular emphasis on building projects that employ local resources and materials in an innovative way.
Members of the local Ismaili community leadership were most diligent in providing me with references to relevant materials, access to prominent architects, historians and theological experts for this assignment, culminating in a full-length interview in Toronto with Aga Khan IV and in the months following, I received an invitation to attend the 1992 AKAA ceremony in Samarkand, and was commissioned with the eventual production of six hour-length radio programmes.
Samarkand in Central Asia, once a fabled city lying on the ancient Silk Route from China to Western Europe was founded around 700 BCE and occupied by an endless series of conquerors including Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan and Tamerlane. It has been a UNESCO world heritage site since the beginning of the 21st century. It is the perfect meeting place for some of the world’s leading architects to attend the honouring of their colleagues with the most valuable and prestigious set of architectural awards. These awards, unlike most others in the field, are also given to people besides the actual architects — people who were involved in essential roles in the projects: builders, clients, artisans, engineers and municipalities. And the jury members include internationally recognized architectural experts, not just those from the Islamic faith or countries.
As guests of Aga Khan IV we were given tours of many of the historic buildings and complexes by experienced local guides in Samarkand as well as in the famed Uzbek sister cities of Bukhara and Khiva. In addition to these tours and the elaborate Awards Ceremony and Reception, we were participants in a series of lectures and presentations by the current winning architects.
All of these events were presided over by Aga Khan IV and members of the Master Jury, a totally independent board, who, as in previous years reviewed the hundreds of submissions for this prestigious award. Aga Khan IV introduced them and guided us through the presentations with a sensitivity and extensive knowledge of, as well as a passion for, building projects that substantially enrich the lives of the communities involved by addressing some of the critical issues of life that architecture is meant to address.
I was particularly moved by one example among many that were recognized in this Award sequence — the reconstruction of the Kampung Kali Cho-de in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, which I was to visit three years later in 1995 at a subsequent AKAA prize giving ceremony.
This location in the centre of Yogyakarta in the Island of Java had been a squatter settlement in a ravine refuse dump for decades, offering a home to the homeless, albeit in appalling conditions. The initiative to change all this came from a local parish priest who had approached the regional government with a proposal. The architect and builders came up with a series of dwellings in a community complex, all constructed from a combination of timber and bamboo, an urban version of a traditional tribal house. The structures were illustrated by flag-like paintings on the outside walls with familiar plant, animal and monster motifs chosen by the inhabitants themselves — mostly the original squatters and their families. On my tour there in 1995 in the company of the chief architect, we visited the home of one of the inhabitants, a former squatter now in her forties with her family. She described how life had been and how things now were, so radically safer and more secure. She was happy, gracious and eager to tell us of the success of the natural air conditioning in a notoriously hot muggy climate. This had been achieved not by electricity as in the West, but by the careful construction of rooms so that the air could flow freely and achieve the desired cooling effect. Now, everywhere here, above the sounds of the traffic, were the voices of children playing happily.
In Samarkand, though we were surrounded in the Registan Square by a quadrangle of magnificent monumental madrasas, minarets, columns and portals, this presentation of a simple ravine complex of bamboo and timber dwellings in Yogyakarta, received equal international attention and recognition from the Master Jury of the AKAA. So too, three years later, when the AKAA was being held in Yogyakarta, another folk-inspired architectural innovation, this time in Mauretania, received an award that caught all our attention.
In many parts of the world, technology has progressed more rapidly than can easily be processed or assimilated, particularly by rural populations. In too many cases, in Third World countries, as we call them, Western values have been imposed indiscriminately. In the architecture of facilities meant for common use, materials foreign to rural communities have been used: concrete, steel and glass, as well as shapes and concepts alien to their surroundings. These are just two examples of how the AKAA has encouraged the use of local resources that are relevant to the cultures and needs of different peoples.
Amid all these wonderful building sites, both ancient and modern, to which I was witness in my years of association with the AKAA as a radio broadcaster, one incident stood out for me. While I was wandering through the grounds of an immense madrasa in Bukhara, with my microphone in 1992, accompanied by a group of architects connected to the AKAA, I heard a student in a room of the madrasa chanting verses from the Quran in a strong clear expressive voice. I moved closer to catch the sound on my recording equipment. A young boy, who must have been no older than nine or ten, saw me and by hand signals indicated that I should go into the building to be closer to the source of the chanting. I attempted to decline his suggestion, thinking it would be an inappropriate intrusion for a non-Muslim, but he persisted. He went inside the classroom, the chanting stopped. I could faintly hear a conversation going on, then the boy came back outside and led me inside by the hand and the student resumed his chanting while I recorded it all. The boys both refused any payment. In an ancient place of learning, lessons were still being taught.
Years ago, Prime Minister Abdullah Badawi of Malaysia remarked: “Building bridges of understanding between Islam and the non-Islamic world is the vision of His Highness, the Aga Khan [IV]. His dedication to architecture for four decades is just one shining example of his commitment to promoting goodwill between people and cultures” In association with the AKAA, I was able to prepare and air six one-hour radio programmes for CBC IDEAS between 1991 and 2003 which the Aga Khan Trust for Culture, the umbrella organisation under which the AKAA operates today, made available to schools in many countries across the world. A true bridge-builder, Aga Khan IV facilitated this knowledge transfer.
