The landscape of the Pakistani museum offers a complex reflection of the nation’s culture, capturing the diverse tapestry of its historical and contemporary identities. These institutions are tasked with preserving and presenting Pakistan’s rich heritage, from ancient artefacts to vibrant cultural displays. However, at the same time, their exhibitions often mirror the societal values and prevailing narratives, revealing both the triumphs and the gaps in representing Pakistan’s multifaceted identity. The portrayal of cultural elements in these museums thus provides a lens through which one can understand the broader cultural and historical discourses shaping contemporary Pakistan.
The “Dancing Girl” of Mohenjo Daro, a merely 4-inch-tall statuette of a frontally nude woman standing with her right hand resting on her hip, discovered from the ruins of the 5000-year-old Indus Valley Civilization — the earliest known urban culture of the Indian subcontinent — by British archaeologists in early twentieth century, sits today in the National Museum of India located in New Delhi. Together with the “Priest-King”, another precious find from the ruins, the two statues have become a visual reminder of this ancient civilization, known to be exceptionally advanced for its time especially in the context of gender disparity.
It is rumoured that in the 1970s, when offered to pick one of the two figurines by the then Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, Pakistan’s former president Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto chose Priest King, a move that historian Haroon Khalid deems “reflective of the cultural environment of his country.” This environment can be characterized by rigid gender roles, as the Dancing Girl would symbolize defiance within Pakistan’s context.
Dancing Girl and Priest King (Photo taken from The Quint website)
Museum, defined as a non-profit institution with the primary aim of public education, has historically been complicit in perpetuating the invisibility of various gender, ethnic and religious identities.
Such is the fate of all identities condemned to anonymity by the patriarchal gaze, women’s being a prime example. Museum, defined as a non-profit institution with the primary aim of public education, has historically been complicit in perpetuating the invisibility of various gender, ethnic and religious identities. Originally, museums were designed to impress and instruct, but their evolution into nationalist institutions in the postcolonial era has led them to perpetuate existing power dynamics. As a result, many museums today reinforce the status quo by marginalizing certain identities, both in physical displays and in the narratives they present. Both local and international museums reproduce dominant narratives through their acquisitive, curatorial, classificatory, and display practices.
Take the National Museum of Pakistan, for example. Located in the centre of the metropolis of Karachi, the museum is neither the largest nor the oldest, nor even the most aesthetic in its architectural framing. Carrying collections of ancient artefacts, dioramas of ethnic plurality, and samples of vibrantly crafted Quranic covers and bindings, it does not neatly fall into the category of ethnographic or archaeological or art museum. Yet, the endeavour to showcase diverse aspects of Pakistan has the ironic effect of de-historicising the nation and propelling it into stasis. Displays remain unchanged, information incomplete and outdated, physical spaces irreverently unclean, and narratives one-dimensional. Does the sight and sound of visitors moving thaw the museum, you might ask? Well, there are hardly any around. Other museums in Pakistan are not significantly better or worse off.
The National Museum of Pakistan, Karachi
The most glaring absence in these museums, however, is the representation of women. They are largely absent from historical narratives and gallery exhibits, and when present, they are often overrepresented in a reductive manner within ethnological displays. Here, women’s roles are narrowly defined through traditional tasks such as thread work, childcare, and food preparation, reinforcing stereotypes that view rural culture as static and unchanging. Such portrayals position the female body as a symbol of ethnic and national identity, reflecting male pride while marginalizing women of diverse ethnic and religious backgrounds. Outdated curation practices perpetuate misinformation and reinforce stereotypes, further silencing these women and misrepresenting their contributions to fit a homogenized national narrative.
Gendering the Pakistani museum can be envisioned as a project of recognizing gender difference – and reforming the museum on its grounds – while actively trying to thwart the patriarchal practice of naturalizing difference. It calls for recognizing contextual and structural barriers faced by women in the contemporary society and the way in which the museum as an institution replicates those barriers, especially in terms of involvement and access.
Gendering the museum also entails revisiting the stories told about objects and the way these are told. This invites reflecting on both the participation of women in this effort and the gendered aspects of the stories that are narrated. There is a need to hire and train guides (there are none at Sindhology Museum and National Museum in Pakistan) and encourage misrepresented groups to supervise corrections in museum narratives about them, while also determining how those narratives should be communicated. It can start by on-boarding communities, NGOs and academics, and authorizing them to radically reform the way a museum creates knowledge.
Gendering the Pakistani museum can be envisioned as a project of recognizing gender difference and reforming the museum on its grounds.
Scholars today refute the idea that “Dancing Girl” is the actual portrait of a girl dancing. It is equally possible that she was named as such because her posture resembled that of the “nautch” girls of India, who were professional dancers. It has been proposed that she should be esteemed as a potential warrior, field worker, or someone performing their identity in rubrics unrecognizable to the modern-day scholar. In all likelihood, it is only by gendering her place in the physical and discursive spaces that she can be appreciated in generative ways.
Gendering the Pakistani museum holds significant promise for advancing gender equity within the country. Reconstructing museum practices to better represent diverse gender identities and roles not only enriches the public’s understanding of history but also reflects and supports broader societal changes toward gender equality. Engaging with gender-focused curatorial practices can empower marginalized groups, correct historical inaccuracies, and provide a platform for women’s contributions across various fields.