The fragile autonomy of cultural institutions in an age of political interference

In a climate increasingly marked by ideological division and political interference, the role of museums as trusted stewards of national memory is being tested. Earlier this year, the Trump administration in the US reignited controversy by issuing an executive order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History” instructing the Smithsonian Institution to remove or revise content deemed “divisive” or “anti-American”.

This directive (criticised for its vague language and pointed targeting of exhibits related to race, gender and inequality) comes alongside efforts in several states to restrict access to books in public libraries and school curricula—particularly those addressing systemic racism, gender bias, and other historically marginalised narratives.

These recent developments highlight a troubling trajectory: the increasing politicisation of cultural institutions in the United States. Institutions once celebrated for their capacity to reflect a nation's plurality are now at risk of becoming tools for exclusionary agendas.

Museums have long stood as pillars of national pride and collective identity: custodians of tangible and intangible heritage. Over the last few decades, many have embraced a transformative role, moving from being passive repositories of objects to dynamic, community-engaged spaces that champion inclusivity and elevate diverse narratives.

This shift has required a reevaluation of collections, curatorial frameworks and public programming, with the aim of reflecting a more truthful and multifaceted representation of history.

This evolving mandate is neither neutral nor uncontroversial. In prioritising voices once marginalised (those of Indigenous communities, African Americans, immigrants and women) museums have often found themselves on the frontlines of broader societal debates.

But it is precisely in this role that they have become essential. Through careful research, interdisciplinary collaboration, and a deep sense of public accountability, cultural institutions have begun the long-overdue work of addressing historical omissions and fostering critical dialogue.

The Smithsonian Institution exemplifies this endeavor. Founded in 1846, it has grown into the largest museum and research complex in the world, comprising 21 museums and the National Zoo, and holding a collection of more than 150 million objects. Its mission “for the increase and diffusion of knowledge” is not just an aspirational phrase – it is a guiding principle that has allowed the institution to engage constructively with complex histories and emerging narratives.

In recent years, the Smithsonian has taken notable steps to present a more inclusive historical record. The National Museum of African American History and Culture and the forthcoming American Women's History Museum are prominent examples of this commitment.

Yet, the 2025 executive order challenges the very foundation of their work, accusing such exhibitions of promoting “ideological bias” and insisting on a reductive version of American history. It is a clear warning that government may increasingly seek to assert control over cultural interpretation.

Such interventions are deeply problematic, not only for what they seek to erase, but for what they signal about the perceived role of cultural institutions in civic life.

When museums are compelled to conform to a singular historical narrative, the consequences are manifold. The suppression of complexity, contradiction and uncomfortable truths risks perpetuating ignorance, fuelling social fragmentation and eroding public trust.

This dilemma is not uniquely American. Around the world, museums have wrestled with state influence, particularly under regimes seeking to consolidate power or shape national identity through selective memory.

From Soviet-era institutions in Eastern Europe to propaganda-driven exhibitions in authoritarian states, the historical record is replete with examples of cultural institutions compromised by political interference.

And yet, there are also cases that inspire hope. Post-apartheid South Africa stands as a testament to the redemptive power of museums when they are granted the freedom to confront trauma. Institutions such as the District Six Museum and the Apartheid Museum became platforms for healing and reconciliation – spaces where history was not sanitised but exposed, interrogated and humanised.

The US, too, has the potential to uphold this more courageous model. But doing so requires protecting the autonomy of cultural institutions, resisting the urge to instrumentalise history, and affirming the public’s right to access multiple truths. Museums are not monoliths of certainty, nor should they be battlegrounds for ideological control. Their strength lies in their capacity to invite dialogue, to provoke thought and to hold space for contested narratives.

The recent backlash from scholars, artists and civil society leaders in response to the executive order is both appropriate and necessary. Their defense of museum independence reminds us that culture is not a luxury but a civic imperative. To silence or dilute difficult histories in the name of national unity is to misunderstand the very nature of democratic engagement.

Museums must remain places where inquiry is encouraged, not inhibited: here the past is neither romanticised nor condemned in totality, but understood in its full complexity. At a time when public discourse is increasingly polarised, the preservation of cultural spaces for open exchange and critical reflection is not optional. It is essential.

Manal Ataya is museums advisor to the Sharjah Museums Authority with more than two decades of experience in museum development, cultural heritage management and cultural diplomacy.