H E Carlos Humberto Jiménez Licona
As we all know, museums are spaces where representative examples of material culture produced by women and men over time are displayed.
Initially created for study and research, they later evolved to include education and leisure, and, without losing these roles, transformed into official places to protect the collective memory of nations.
Connecting the past with the present by displaying objects that link visitors to previous generations is a key role of these institutions.
In my experience, the National Museum of Qatar serves as a notable example of this mission.
After several visits to the National Museum of Qatar, I can confidently say that the history of this country cannot be fully understood without visiting this emblematic place that defines Qatari identity: its perseverance, resilience, and capacity to overcome challenges.
From the very first moment, everything in the museum connects you with national identity:
from its location—surrounding the original palace of Sheikh Abdullah bin Jassim Al Thani (1871–1957), once the seat of the ruling family and government for several years—to the unique architectural design conceived by the French architect Mr. Jean Nouvel, inspired by the natural phenomenon of the desert rose.
The museum’s impressive galleries and the adjacent garden, showcasing a living display of Qatar’s native plants, narrate—with meticulous care—the country’s history: its people, its traditions, its struggles and its wealth of flora, fauna and natural resources.
It is undoubtedly a place where memory and emotion intertwine in a constant dialogue with the present.
On one of my most memorable visits, walking through the gallery dedicated to Bedouin life, I paused before a multimedia installation replaying the sound of desert winds, the murmur of traditional markets, and the song of pearl divers. In that moment, I wasn’t just observing history—I was living it. I felt part of a living legacy and understood that identity is built through emotion, and that a museum can serve as an intimate bridge between who we were and who we are.
In my view, the National Museum prominently showcases the evolution of Qatari identity, allowing visitors to appreciate the key elements that have shaped it: natural and cultural wealth, the resilience of its people, and visionary leadership.
These aspects are revealed not only in the artifacts on display, but also in the way they are organized and contextualized.
By contrast, as I toured the galleries of this emblematic museum, I couldn’t help but fondly recall my visits to the National Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology of Guatemala.
That institution, too, serves as an encounter with the soul of a nation.
Through its collections and exhibitions—focused on the pre Columbian era, particularly Mayan culture—the museum offers a profound window into the complexity, beauty, and diversity of the peoples who inhabited and continue to inhabit that land.
From my experience at the National Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology in Guatemala, the most remarkable feature is undoubtedly the vast collection of Maya civilization pieces, among the most sophisticated in the Americas.
Each gallery is thoughtfully organized to present not only archaeological achievements but also the cultural continuity of indigenous peoples, demonstrating how their traditions, languages, and worldviews remain essential to national identity.
In this sense, the museum is not merely a testament to the past but a living affirmation of cultural diversity that defines Guatemala’s identity today.
Although both museums are in geographically, historically, and culturally distinct contexts—one surrounded by the Gulf desert, the other in the heart of Mesoamerica—they share an essential vocation: to preserve, interpret, and promote the legacy of their peoples.
In both, visitors are guided not only by dates and events but by a sensitive narrative that enables an understanding of how cultural roots persist, influencing contemporary identity.
Finally, I can say that both the National Museum of Qatar and the National Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology of Guatemala stand as living examples of how a nation can preserve, honor, and project its cultural heritage into the future.
These spaces don’t merely safeguard historical objects, they narrate the journeys of resilient people, proud of their roots and open to global dialogue.
As I walked through their halls, I realized that museums do more than teach history: they inspire identity, foster belonging, and promote mutual understanding between cultures.
Thus, from the Qatari desert to the Guatemalan jungle, these museums remind us that, despite our geographic and cultural differences, we share a common aspiration: preserving collective memory to illuminate the path for future generations.
