This old House

‘If the Palace were not a listed building of the highest heritage value, its owners would probably be advised to demolish and rebuild.’ Heartlessly, this concludes the latest official report into the restoration of the Houses of Parliament. Four thousand miles away in New Delhi, it’s the same story. The Central Public Works Department has declared the constitutional masterpiece of Edwin Lutyens and Herbert Baker equally unfit for habitation. ‘We badly need a new parliament building,’ complains government minister Jairam Ramesh. ‘This one simply isn’t functional and is outdated.’

In the oldest parliament democracy and in the largest, the challenge is the same: what on earth to do with our Grade I* legislatures? Do we preserve or decant; modernise or historicise? But the competing solutions proposed by London and New Delhi offer a telling insight into two contrasting national psyches.

In SW1, the situation is critical. Forget the obvious signs of decay — the mice; the leaking roofs; the wafts of sewage. Deep in the belly of Charles Barry’s 1830’s Gothic wonderland, the infrastructure is in meltdown. The steam and condensate systems are beyond life expectancy. Explosions from the boilers risk the cabling and water pipes. The vertical risers are ridden with asbestos. And like a decaying hulk, the Palace glides on with gallons of water swashing around its basements.

In New Delhi, the fabric of Parliament House’s gorgeous, fortified sandstone is equally frayed. Proceedings in the Rajya Sabha have been suspended during budget debates because of unspeakable smells. Office additions have blocked off emergency exits, while unauthorised alterations threaten structural stability. And like at Westminster, there is a tangible sense of decay along the corridors and chambers — made all the more stark by the new cityscape of luxury hotels and boutique office complexes springing up across Delhi.