By Azerbaijan.US Editorial Board
As bulldozers move through historic neighborhoods, residents say Baku is losing not just its architecture – but its soul.
The sound of demolition has become the new rhythm of central Baku. In the historic districts around Kubinka and the former Sovetskaya Street, century-old buildings are being torn down one after another – victims of a modernization drive that, for many residents, feels more like an erasure of history.
What was once the heart of old Baku – narrow lanes, arched courtyards, limestone walls breathing sea air – is now a construction zone. “They’re not demolishing houses,” one resident told Azerbaijan.US. “They’re demolishing our memories.”
Stay Ahead with Azerbaijan.usGet exclusive translations, top stories, and analysis — straight to your inbox.
From “Paris of the East” to a city without a face
Urban historians call it the city’s identity crisis. Baku, once known as the “Paris of the East” for its blend of European elegance and local character, is rapidly turning into a skyline of glass towers and generic high-rises.
“People in Tbilisi protect their old quarters – they restore façades, turn them into cultural hubs, and attract tourists,” says local architect Lala Dadashova, who has been documenting the demolition.
“Here, we destroy what makes us unique. We’re losing something that can never be rebuilt.”
Residents say city planners have ignored public pleas to preserve the old courtyards and façades. “Every stone here had a story,” wrote Facebook user Emil Bayramov. “Those courtyards carried the real spirit of Baku. It’s unbearable to watch them fall.”
Profit over heritage
Critics accuse local officials and developers of prioritizing profit over preservation.
“Decisions about demolition are made by people who think only in square meters and dollars,” says journalist Gasim Khalilov. “They see land, not culture. Money, not memory.”
Others describe a sense of helplessness. “Our society isn’t ready to defend its own city,” wrote Dilara Yusufova. “We pour our grief into social media comments, but when the bulldozers come – no one stands in front of them.”
A city ruled by the manat
Commenters often summarize the situation in one bitter phrase: “His Majesty, the Manat, rules here.”
Indeed, the economic logic behind the demolitions is simple – high-rise apartments generate more revenue than decaying heritage houses. But residents argue that the long-term loss is immeasurable.
“You can’t buy back history once it’s gone,” says writer Fira Akhmedova. “In Europe, cities rebuild even after wars – they cherish their architecture and cultural memory. Here, we destroy ours willingly.”
Public anger grows
Social media has turned into an open forum of mourning and outrage.
“Every day I drive by, and another house is half-destroyed,” wrote Ayende Dadashova.
“Baku no longer belongs to us,” echoed Mehriban Melikova. “It’s being managed by people who don’t love this city and don’t even understand what they’re erasing.”
A few residents, like Anaxanum Abdullayeva, call for real-world protest.
“It’s time to stop talking and start acting,” she posted. “Let’s gather – a hundred, five hundred of us – and appeal directly to the president. Someone has to defend what’s left.”
Not everyone agrees
Some voices defend the demolitions as a necessary step toward urban renewal.
“Most of these houses have no real architectural value,” wrote commenter Seymur K. “Their walls are crumbling, their roofs unsafe. History isn’t an excuse to keep the city in ruins. Even in Europe, they rebuild old neighborhoods – sometimes from the ground up.”
Yet many find that argument hollow. “Restoration would have cost less than compensation for demolition,” says Ibrahim Ojadov, an engineer. “It’s not about practicality – it’s about the absence of vision.”
What remains
Walking through the old neighborhoods today feels like walking through absence. The ornate doors, the iron balconies, the echoes of street musicians – all fading under the dust of bulldozers.
“Old Baku could have been a world-class heritage district,” says cultural historian Talat Huseynov, whose family lived in the area for generations. “Now it’s just a memory – and memories don’t bring tourists.”
For many, the pain goes beyond nostalgia. It’s about identity – a question of who owns the city, and what kind of city Baku wants to be.
Editorial Note
The demolition of historic districts is not just an urban issue – it’s a moral one.
Cities that erase their past eventually lose their future.
Baku deserves better – not only new buildings, but a vision that respects the stones on which it stands.


