When Bangalore Was Singapore’s Role Model
A Tale of Two Cities
There was a time when Bengaluru was celebrated as a well-planned city, a harmonious blend of nature, infrastructure, and civic life. Not many people will know that in 1976, a delegation from Singapore visited Bengaluru to study its planning, particularly its green cover, well-defined neighbourhoods, and efficient infrastructure – as their model for Singapore 2010.
Fast-forward two decades to the late 1990s, and the tables had completely turned. Late Sri. S.M. Krishna, the then Chief Minister of Karnataka, launched an ambitious vision to transform Bengaluru into the 'Singapore of India'. The city that was once studied as a model was now looking to its former observer for inspiration. What happened in the intervening years that made Bengaluru lose its lead in the urban planning discourse?
The Bangalore That Once Was
Bengaluru’s original town planning, shaped by British colonial and early post-independence efforts, laid a strong foundation. Broad roads, interconnected tanks for water management, and distinct neighbourhood planning made it a city of poise and elegance. The Public Works Department and city planners thoughtfully integrated flowering tree-lined avenues, public spaces, and civic amenities into the urban fabric. Residential neighbourhoods like Malleswaram and Basavanagudi were planned with access to markets, parks, and schools, ensuring a high quality of life.
Infact, as an on-going 'Mapping Bangalore' project that the team at Mod Foundation is working on, it is interesting to see how the concerns of city planners were fairly well integrated with the growth of the city and its outlook, until it just wasn't anymore.
The Lost Promise of Planning
Prepare a masterplan for the city as it should be twenty or thirty years later. Every little thing that is built by the public authority or private persons must fit in with that masterplan and nobody should be allowed to spoil it. Have broad avenues and streets….You have a magnificent opportunity here in Bangalore, not only to do your primary duty of looking after the citizens and the residents of Bangalore by giving them the amenities of civic life like healthy conditions, education, parks, libraries and so on, but of building up in this ideal spot a beautiful city, beautiful not only to look at, but beautiful and healthy to live in. (Jawaharlal Nehru, mid 1950's)
Bengaluru's planned trajectory had strong foundations. In the 1960s, Karnataka became the first state in India to pass comprehensive planning legislation through the Mysore (later Karnataka) Town and Country Planning Act. The phased approach, involved an Outline Development Plan (ODP), meant to decentralise growth in the urban peripheries, followed by a Comprehensive Development Plan (CDP), meant to anticipate and regulate the city’s expansion.
However, while the intent was to create an orderly and structured urban form, reality unfolded differently. Between 1951 and 1971, Bengaluru’s population more than doubled, from 779,000 to 1.6 million. By 1981, it had nearly doubled again to 2.9 million, and by 1991, it had crossed 4 million. The city’s growth rate was outpacing its plans, and its infrastructure struggled to keep up. Sound familiar?
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The Irony of the Singapore Model
By the late 1990s, Bengaluru looked (back) to Singapore for inspiration, but the irony was inescapable. Singapore had taken careful, disciplined steps toward urban sustainability—integrating transport, housing, and public services into a seamless system. A system in which the values adopted by the citizens of Singapore, like efficiency, civic sense and respect for law were sacrosanct. The cap on private vehicular ownership has been balanced with a world-class public transport system - with logical reasoning and robust planning. Not to mention a strong accountability system - by both people and the government.
Bengaluru, on the other hand, deviated from its planning principles, allowing short-term interests to shape its urban form. Instead of structured zoning, the city took a different path. Instead of efficient public transit, it became a city of traffic gridlocks. Instead of preserving its famed tree-lined avenues, it lost its green cover to road-widening projects. Meanwhile, citizens continue to hear about repackaged, old-but-new proposals, focused solely on building more roads, flyovers, tunnel roads, and elevated corridors—attempting to tackle issues without a long-term vision in mind.
Who is responsible for Bengaluru?
It is heard often that Developers or private interests are 'building the city,' but this is neither new nor unique—urban growth everywhere is shaped, or at the very least, influenced by private interests. The key difference in well-planned cities is the presence of another voice in the room—one that evaluates whether a proposal serves the greater good, benefits the people who make up the city, and aligns with a larger, long-term vision. Whose is this mythical voice?
There is no answer (yet) but the absence of crucial elections in the city provides some clues. In theory, it should be a balance of elected representatives, (empowered) urban planning authorities like the BDA and BBMP, subject matter experts advising our elected officials and engaged citizens who hold decision-makers accountable. But in reality, our governance system is far more complicated. Consider the recent power play between the central and state governments, which led to a 50% fare hike for the city's metro, not to mention a proposed surge pricing model. While this decision has made the daily battle for space inside metro coaches a little less intense, it raises a bigger question—who is the metro really for? Mass transit systems are meant to serve the masses, ensuring affordability and accessibility. Instead, with this fare hike, Bengaluru now has the most expensive metro system in India.
Public infrastructure projects, zoning decisions, and mobility plans should all be guided by a cohesive urban strategy—one that prioritizes people over profits. At a time when the city desperately needs better public transport adoption, such decisions only push commuters back to private vehicles, worsening congestion and pollution. The city needs a coherent vision for mobility—one that prioritizes people over politics. But with fragmented decision-making and competing interests at play, who is truly looking out for the interests of the everyday Bangalorean? Are we waiting for our inflection point?
Can Bengaluru Find Its Way 'Forward'?
Bengaluru has always prided itself on being a city of the future—adaptive, innovative, and ever-evolving. Yet, when it comes to urban planning, it seems we’ve been stuck in a time loop, grappling with the same issues for nearly half a century. How is it that a city bursting with top-tier planners, tech geniuses, and policy experts, still does not have a vision-plan OR master-plan since 2015? Bengaluru must of course develop a path that aligns with its unique historical, cultural, and social contexts, not blindly cut-copy-paste from other cities or countries. But perhaps the lesson here is that while looking ahead is vital, sometimes a good, hard look back at our own lost potential is just as important.
If Bengaluru could inspire Singapore in 1976, surely it can inspire itself in 2025 – to be the best version of itself.
- By Nidhi Bhatnagar
References: The Promise of the Metropolis, Janaki Nair; Network City, James Heitzmen