Wounded Fontana

For those of us who regularly stop near the Chapultepec bus stop—now called the Modal Transfer Center (Cetram)—it's common to see a quarry structure so dilapidated it seems to be hanging by a thread, an old fountain that has lost its face and its memory, a frame pierced by a historical crack that could collapse in the next earthquake. You know it: this is the Chapultepec Aqueduct Fountain, or the Old Bethlehem Fountain, declared a Historic Monument—although it may not seem so—on February 9, 1931.

Just over a year ago, I wrote about this topic in this same column, and we recall that, since 2016, researcher María de Lourdes López Camacho conducted extensive research on this fountain, compiled in the book "Unearthing Fragments of History. 16th to 19th Centuries." Her investigation is very comprehensive, as it not only records its modifications, alterations, and changes in location, but also concludes with an idea we share:

"This historic fountain must be preserved for future generations. Therefore, if it's not feasible to improve its current condition, it should be relocated to a space worthy of the last remaining vestige of the fountains that formed part of the aqueducts that quenched the thirst of Mexico City's residents." He wrote that nine years ago!

In this investigation, López Camacho also mentioned that while he was writing his book, a joint project was being carried out between the National Museum of History and the National Coordination of Historic Monuments to restore the monument. However, last July, via transparency, the National Institute of Anthropology and History (INAH) responded to me as follows: "There is no assessment of the current condition of the historic building known as the Antigua Fuente de Belén, which belongs to the architectural complex known as the Antiguo Acueducto de Chapultepec."

Miraculously, on August 13, the National Institute of Anthropology and History changed its mind and in bulletin 387, titled “The Ministry of Culture and the INAH will support the restoration of the Fountain of Bethlehem, in Chapultepec,” the agency accepted that “the historic building from the 18th century has structural damage that requires specialized attention” and that it had been affected since the 1985 earthquake, that is, four decades ago!, with fractures, differential subsidence and deterioration of its stonework.

He also confirmed that he conducted a three-dimensional survey of the monument, that he participated in workshops with representatives from the Mexico City Public Works and Services Department and with Monex Grupo Financiero, the trustee of the Cetram Chapultepec construction center, to finalize the restoration, and that he already has a preliminary proposal that includes relocating the fountain, thereby restoring its original orientation.

Now we just hope that the INAH—directed by Joel Omar Vázquez Herrera —doesn't take another 10 years to complete the final project to restore the monument. Or should we wait for the earthquake that knocks down the fountain so that, then, the heritage protectors can rush to the site in their vests and proclaim that they won't rest until the fountain's splendor is restored?

Let's hope that Omar Vázquez soon finishes his long days of dialogue in the interior of the country, defined as an 'exercise in participatory planning that gathers priorities and sets the public agenda.' Shouldn't Diego Prieto have left that done? Hell, that's all! In the meantime, someone should bring the head of the INAH the to-do list he inherited. Let's mention three: the foundation of the Christopher Columbus Sculpture Complex, which is crumbling a little more each day on Paseo de la Reforma; the forgotten restoration of the Caño Quebrado; and the citizen demands to relocate the National Olmec Museum. Where does he plan to start?