Archive: Border-Land-Scapes

Text by Liene Jäcobsone

Published in 2026 by Ruby Press and edited by Liene Jäcobsone, the book Border-Land-Scapes brings together a selection of essays which explore the architectural and spatial manifestations of defence, violence and segregation and their impact on landscapes and people. The book explores the role of architecture in times of conflict and considers how the discipline's spatial knowledge and sensibility might contribute to contemporary geopolitical challenges.

Below we present an extract from the Jäcobsone’s introductory essay entitled Beyond the pale: On borders, borderlands, and landscapes.

Liene Jäcobsone is a founding director of Lativia-based Sampling Architects, a project by whom has been previously added to our archive here.

LJ We are continuously surrounded by military infrastructure dating back centuries. Some of it is immediately recognisable as belonging to the ​military ​sphere - ​fortresses, ​bunkers - ​while ​other​ elements ​are ​far ​less ​apparent: ​ramparts​ and​ ditches ​that,​over​ time,​ have ​come ​to ​resemble ​natural​ landscape ​features,​ or urban and territorial planning principles introduced in​ specific​historical​ contexts ​but ​now ​absorbed​ into ​the​ fabric of cities and no longer perceived in military terms. However, ​whether​ or​ not ​these ​structures ​have ​ever ​served​ their ​intended ​purpose - ​and​ whether​ or ​not ​we​ recognise​ them ​as ​defense-related - ​they​ continue ​to ​define ​space​ and shape the identity of place.

In ​contemporary​ architectural​ practice,​ defense ​is​ rarely ​considered - whether. ​in​ a ​military ​sense ​or ​in​ broader ​terms. ​Yet​architecture​ is, ​at ​its ​core, ​an ​effort ​to​ protect oneself from various forms of threat and danger: from​ climate ​and​ weather,​ from​animals​ or ​other ​people, ​and​ simply ​from ​intrusion ​in to ​one’s ​private ​space.​ In ​this ​sense, ​architecture ​is ​constantly ​engaged​ in​the​ delineation​ of ​boundaries - ​it​ is ​embedded​ in ​the ​very​ foundations of the practice.

Why, ​then, ​are ​architects - ​the ​professional ​producers​ of ​space - n​o ​longer ​engaged ​in ​the ​spatial​ articulation ​of​ military defense? There was a time when urban planning and architecture were considered integral to defense strategies; the two disciplines were closely intertwined. In ​recent​ decades, ​however - ​particularly ​after​ the​ Second​ World ​War - ​this​connection ​has ​steadily ​weakened.​ Are​ we, ​as ​architects, ​no ​longer ​part ​of ​the ​debate?​ Or​ have we simply chosen not to participate? It appears that we ​have ​adopted​ an ​increasingly ​pacifist​ stance - ​perhaps even an evasive one. The very notion of designing in​ anticipation ​of ​war, ​or ​as ​a ​means ​of ​deterrence, ​seems​ to ​be ​treated ​as​ethically ​suspect, ​as ​though ​it ​were​ inherently impure or inhumane. It is at risk of being interpreted as designing for violence.

We live in a time when the legacy of military architecture ​is ​being​ adapted ​to ​new ​purposes - ​fortifications​ and castles have become museums or been repurposed for ​cultural ​or ​social ​uses. ​Infrastructure - ​roads,​ engineered ​waterways, ​airports, ​and​others - ​continues​ to ​serve ​contemporary ​civilian​ transport ​needs,​ while​ former city ramparts have often been converted into expansive public parks. Urban planning interventions that were originally conceived to facilitate the movement of large ​groups​of ​people,​ enable ​surveillance ​and​ control,​ or mitigate destruction in the event of attack now define​ the ​distinctive ​character ​of​many ​cities - ​no ​longer​ perceived, ​in ​our ​everyday ​experience, ​as ​connected ​to​ their​ military​ origins.​ At ​the ​same ​time, ​similar​processes have always unfolded in the opposite direction: civilian​ architecture​ and​ infrastructure ​have,​ when​ necessary, ​been​appropriated​ for​ warfare​ and​ defense,​ while ​the​ ordinary​ fabric​ of ​the ​city - ​its ​basements,​ metro​stations, ​tunnels, ​and ​public​buildings - h​as​ become​ a ​refuge ​for civilians ​during ​military ​crises.

In ​the ​context ​of ​recent ​geopolitical ​developments,​ however, ​the ​construction ​of ​new ​defensive ​infrastructure has resumed in various parts of Europe and elsewhere ​in ​the ​world - ​including ​the ​hundreds​ of​ kilometers of fencing straddling Europe’s eastern border and numerous military bases at strategic locations along ​frontiers,​ coastlines,​ and​ inland​ territories.​ This​ has prompted renewed conversation about the intersections​ of​ architecture​ and ​defense. ​Instead, ​it ​represents ​an ​attempt​ to ​reconsider - once again - ​the​ questions​ of ​defense ​and​ militarization​ within ​the ​context of ​architecture, ​from​ multiple ​perspectives,​and​ to ​examine ​how​ contemporary ​developments ​differ ​from ​those ​of ​previous​ eras.

What is architecture’s role in contemporary defense strategies,​ and​ how​ might ​this ​role - n​ow​ often ​un-acknowledged - ​be​articulated ​or ​reclaimed? ​In ​what​ ways ​can ​the ​architect’s ​perspective - ​the ​discipline’s​ specific ​knowledge, ​its ​spatial​sensibility,​ its​ capacity​ to ​anticipate ​long-term ​transformations - ​contribute to navigating today’s geopolitical challenges? How do architects interpret the emergence of new military infrastructure,​ and ​how ​is ​it ​perceived ​by ​the ​wider ​public​ and​ by​ those ​living ​in ​the ​regions ​directly ​affected?​ What future awaits these structures? How might their function and meaning change over time as they become part​ of ​the​ ordinary ​built ​environment?​ Ultimately, ​how​ will these new border-land-scapes look in the future?