Not Hollywood

As individuals, our sense of self is intricately linked to our ability to define our identity within a broader collective framework. We seek a coherent narrative that ties together our values, history, and purpose. This narrative enables us to relate to others and navigate the complex political landscapes in which we exist. Politics, throughout history, has effectively harnessed this innate human need for belonging and identity construction. From ancient empires to modern states, political forces have shaped both the physical and symbolic landscapes in which identity is constructed.

Empires have always sought to define themselves through architecture, using distinct building styles and urban planning to propagate their ideological visions. This was true of the Egyptian, Roman, Greek, Inca, Khmer, and Aztec empires, all of which employed specific architectural canons to assert their power and uniqueness. Similarly, the imposing and monumental architecture of dictatorial regimes throughout history—such as the Fascist architecture of Mussolini’s Italy or Stalinist constructions in the Soviet Union—was designed to convey authority, control, and permanence. The aesthetic and architectural language of empires thus serves as both a reflection and a tool of political power, embodying the values and ideologies of the time. These architectural forms, though subject to change, continue to influence the cultural and political landscapes long after the empires that created them have fallen. As Anthony D. King suggests, architecture often represents “the political will of a society” (King, 1990), a tool of both historical and political memory.

With the advent of globalization and the widespread influence of neoliberal ideology, however, architectural and symbolic forms have become increasingly standardized and emulative. In the modern era, the dominant aesthetic is one of imitation and appropriation, as countries, cities, and corporations strive to align themselves with the perceived success and power associated with global centers of influence, particularly those of the Western world. The desire to emulate global standards of progress and prosperity has led to a homogenization of architectural forms, with cityscapes around the world increasingly resembling one another. This globalized style, often referred to as “global modernism,” is characterized by a rush to adopt Western architectural conventions and symbols, regardless of local context or meaning.

In this environment, the remixing of symbols has become a powerful tool for identity formation. The appropriation of images, signs, and symbols from different cultures or historical periods is no longer an incidental phenomenon; rather, it has become a strategic and deliberate practice aimed at reinforcing ideological narratives. As Jean Baudrillard argues, in the postmodern world, symbols are no longer tied to their original meanings but have become “simulacra” that circulate freely, detached from any original context (Baudrillard, 1981). In this sense, the very act of remixing symbols—whether consciously or unconsciously—becomes a mechanism for creating connections, however superficial or distorted, between people, places, and ideologies.