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In recent years, monuments have become tv-stars. It all started in 2003, when BBC2 ran the first edition of Restoration, a lengthy competition between a series of buildings, industrial structures and landscape elements. The program, also known as the ‘Architectural Big Brother’ (it was made by Endemol, the infamous company behind the internationally best-selling tv programme), wanted “to bring an astonishing array of great buildings to wider public notice.” Each of the competing historic structures “was in peril from years of neglect or under-funding,” but “equally worthy of reappraisal and restoration.” Television viewers were invited to select their most favourite monument, that one piece of cultural heritage that they deemed to be preserved and restored with funds from a.o. the Heritage Lottery Fund. The great popularity of the series, which has run already for three seasons, was soon to be followed in neighbouring countries. In 2003, the Dutch AVRO started its own version, Restauratie (about to start its third edition), and 2007 Flemish VRT ran Monumentenstrijd (Battle of Monuments). All follow a by now familiar format. After extensive portraits of the different competitors, a series of experts are brought in to describe and promote their respective historical and esthetical qualities. Finally, the unavoidable celebrities step forward to patronize the whole campaign, in a similar way to other competitive programs such as BBC2’s Great Britons or VRT’s The Most Important Belgian. Public personalities, ranging from actors, writers, politicians, sports people to pop stars, serve as the familiar face of the campaign and go to great pains to advocate their pet project. All three programs count on the massive contribution of the, cell phone armed, television viewers. Through a series of elimination rounds, they are invited to ‘elect’ their most favourite project by televoting or text message, culminating in a spectacular and ravelling final live show.For many, politicians, cultural commentators and intellectuals alike, the massive viewing figures and the overall participation that the programme obtained in all three countries serve as a clear demonstration of the broad public interest in monuments and the shared worship for cultural heritage in general. The ‘battles between monuments’ are believed to deliver the direct proof of the fact that monuments are far from dusty and forgotten objects. They emerge as ‘sexy’ cultural assets that apparently are loved and cherished by a huge part of the population, or at least, or should we say even, by the television-watching crowd. “More people go to see heritage sites than go to football matches,” Nikki Cheetham, the executive producer of the series Restoration, proudly declared. “There are thousands of people who feel very passionately about these buildings.” The fact that large communities and city populations have been ‘mobilized’ to promote their local artefact and vote for it, has unmistakingly added to the ultimate repute of the program. In a global climate of cultural and political pessimism over the communal capacity and the social coherence of our ever more dispersed society, these kind of sweeping enterprises are regarded as signs of a new socio-cultural upheaval, of which the competing monuments evidently serve as the new and obligatory symbols. In Flanders, the beneficial character of the 2007 edition of Monumentenstrijd was further consolidated by the ironical fact that the ultimate winner was located in that part of the country that is commonly known for the warm and jovial attitude of its inhabitants. The Stoomstroopfabriek, a steamfactory for fruitsyrup in the small provincial town of Borgloon in Limburg, presided over an old cinema in Duffel and Ghent University’s main library building. Eric Awouters, mayor of Borgloon, labelled the nomination as one of the highlights of his career an occasion for throwing a grandiose ‘pancakes party’.But at the end of these, often highly entertaining clashes between monuments, one can’t but wonder why people need to be convinced of the historical and architectural importance of the competing projects by a television programme, let alone by one that, in the Flemisch case, uses the most disturbing vocabulary of warfare. It was always clear from the start that most, if not all were precious tokens of cultural and built heritage. And last but not least, why the final decision was made dependent on the faux-democratic format of televoting. It goes without saying that this kind of television program, due to its undeniable popularity, risks to have a big impact on future official and governmental policy. In an era where politicians act ever more like celebrities and appear all the more frequently in leisure programs, it comes as no surprise that they no longer feel the slightest hesitation to have themselves guided by the regime and whimsicalities of entertainment and spectacle – instead of setting out a personal policy for which they after all have been delegated via elections. The day after the final show of Monumentenstrijd, Flemish Minister Dirk Van Mechelen, whose political mandates includes monuments and landscapes, announced in the media that he was willing to discuss the idea of a similar clash between landscapes. Just imagine that the format of the televised competition becomes standard procedure, not only for all monuments waiting to be preserved, but also for all public structures designed and built in the future. It might be best not to spend too much thoughts on it.This is an edited version of an article originally published in Memosphere.Rethinking Monuments, 2007, published on the account of the exhibition Low-Budget Monuments at the Romanian Pavilion at the 52th Venice Biennial.