Egypt: The pyramids built on the backs of slaves—what is the true price of eternity?

Source: The architecture of power: when concrete and steel serve the dictator

"The modernized megamachine [the vast socio-technological structure in which human beings operate as components in a large machine] has reproduced all the early features of the ancient form by pyramid building on an even larger scale. And just as the static physical structures supported the worshipper's belief in the validity of the Pharaoh's claims to divinity and immortality, so the new dynamic forms of the pyramid-complex—the skyscrapers, the atomic reactors, the nuclear weapons, the superhighways, the space rockets, the underground control centers, the collective nuclear shelters (tombs)—seem equally to validate and exalt the new religion."

(Lewis Mumford, The Myth of the Machine, Vol. 2)

Explanation: Monuments of servitude: the difference between dictatorial and democratic construction

Dictatorships erect lavish buildings, colossal statues, and monumental structures not merely because they possess cheap, disenfranchised labor, but because construction itself is a tool of control. The goal is not to meet a human need, but to crush the individual in the face of the absolute power of the regime and to glorify its name. In the democratic world, such monuments are almost nonexistent because they run counter to its spirit; while in ancient Egypt or in totalitarian regimes architecture serves to perpetuate the tyrant, in the modern Western world architecture—even when ambitious and megalomaniacal—is ultimately bound to serve the public and remain accountable to it.

Perspective: Guilt tourism: is it permissible to marvel at what was built in blood?

In the end, we all travel abroad, marvel at the Colosseum in Rome, the pyramids in Egypt, or the Palace of Versailles in Paris, snap photos in awe of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, Machu Picchu in Peru, or the walls of Jerusalem built by Suleiman the Magnificent—all of which were built at the cost of human life and bondage. Without dictatorships, where would we travel? What would we marvel at? The great monuments, nearly all of them, were built through corruption and extortion, slavery and death, and the justification for the tourism industry around all these places requires moral clarification.

Going Deeper: Pyongyang and the perpetuation of tyranny: when dictatorship shapes the urban landscape

One North Korea researcher, Philipp Meuser, described his impression of Pyongyang, the capital, in his architectural guide: The capital's streets are a wondrous and chilling example of architecture in the service of dictatorship. Broad avenues devoid of people, gargantuan public buildings, and larger-than-life monuments dedicated to the personality cult of its leaders. The North Korean regime also constructed a 43-kilometer highway connecting the capital to the city of Nampo. It was built by 50,000 "volunteers" and features four lanes in each direction, even though North Korean citizens have no cars at all.

One day, when the regime falls, we too will likely marvel at these monuments.

Culture: Redemption from anonymity: how museums also commemorate the victims

In many museums around the world, one finds monuments, fragments of ancient temples, entire looted cities, commemorative pillars, pharaonic tombs, mosaics, timeless cultural treasures—all the fruits of bondage. Two justifications are offered for this: first, that despite the servitude and cruelty, the monuments stand as a testament to human talent, inspiration, and love; and second, that they also serve as a memorial to all those who were exploited and enslaved, and by remembering them as well, we redeem them from their anonymity.