There are few cultural projects that have so perfectly captured both a nation’s ambition and its inertia as the Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM). Two decades in the making, more than $1bn (€870m) spent and several false starts later, the colossal complex at Giza has finally opened its doors, a stone’s throw from the pyramids and the Cairo ring road. The story, like the building, is monumental. Yet, as the first visitors wander through its marble-bright atriums and past the 3,200-year-old Ramses II statue, it’s worth asking: what does Egypt really want this museum to say?

From its conception in the early 1990s, the GEM was always about more than archaeology. It was a gesture of modern nationhood, Egypt announcing itself as a cultural superpower with institutions capable of rivalling the Louvre, the British Museum or the Smithsonian. But the museum’s journey tells a more complicated story. Construction began in 2005, stalled after the Arab Spring, was revived with loans from Japan, then delayed again by the coronavirus pandemic. In many ways, the museum became a metaphor for modern Egypt: heavy with history, halted by politics and ultimately propelled forward by the stubborn belief that grandeur can substitute for good governance.

Designed by Dublin-based Heneghan Peng Architects, the building is suitably theatrical. Its vast triangular façade of alabaster and glass tilts toward the pyramids in a silent architectural dialogue with the ancient world. Inside, a grand staircase ascends through a procession of statues, sarcophagi and stelae. There is a sense of awe leading up to the full Tutankhamun collection (shown together for the first time). Though breathtaking, it also feels carefully stage-managed. Is this a museum or a national theatre?

The guest list for the grand opening this weekend underscored this point. Egypt invited presidents, kings and crown princes from Europe and the Arab world. There were red carpets, drone shows and speeches about civilisation’s cradle reawakening. The message was not subtle: Egypt is back on the global stage. Yet such pageantry hints at a quiet insecurity. After all, Cairo’s other great museum, the dusty, beloved Tahrir building, told its story without ceremony or LED screens. This new iteration feels like it’s trying to prove something.

Beyond the symbolism, the GEM forms part of a vast redevelopment of the Giza plateau with new roads, hotels, a planned airport and even manicured parks where there were once chaotic streets. Tourism accounts for about 12 per cent of Egypt’s GDP and the government hopes that the museum will boost arrivals by up to 20 per cent. It’s a tall order in a global economy that’s wobbling, with Egypt grappling with debt, inflation and youth unemployment. But the museum offers a different kind of investment: narrative. It allows Cairo to reframe the conversation from crisis to civilisation, from IMF loans to the legacy of the pharaohs. Indeed, who is this museum for? The ticket prices will certainly deter many Egyptians and the scale of the site feels designed for international tour groups rather than locals on an afternoon outing. This is spectacle as soft power.

In a country where history is counted in millennia, the opening of a new museum should perhaps be taken with a pinch of desert salt. The GEM is an extraordinary achievement, yes, but it’s also a reminder that modern Egypt is still negotiating its relationship with the recent past. Whether it becomes a living cultural institution or another monument to ambition will depend on what happens when the world’s cameras leave and the red carpets are rolled away. Until then, Egypt’s newest wonder will have to wait to see if the 20-year process was worth it.

Inzamam Rashid is Monocle’s Gulf correspondent. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today. Further reading? We caught up with Shirin Frangoul-Brückner, the CEO of Stuttgart-based design studio Atelier Brückner, who designed the galleries, Grand Staircase and atrium for the Grand Egyptian Museum. Read our conversation here.  

New Yorkers head to the ballot box to elect a new mayor today (writes Mary Holland). The Democratic candidate, Zohran Mamdani, has led most of the polls throughout the campaign. His signature policies – such as universal childcare, free bus services, rent freezes on stabilised apartments and city-owned grocery shops – have chimed with voters in America’s largest city and he looks set to win on a democratic-socialist platform, which is rarely seen in the US.

To anyone living in a European welfare state, Mamdani’s ideas probably sound entirely reasonable. But to many Americans, they’re wildly ambitious – radical, even. On Sunday, Donald Trump referred to Mamdani as a “communist” and endorsed rival Andrew Cuomo, a former governor. Critics worry how much his measures will cost and whether aggressive rent freezes will discourage new housing supply; some are concerned that tax hikes will chase away businesses or high-earning residents. But the reality is also that inequality in the city is deepening and many believe that something must shift. Mamdani isn’t exactly reinventing the wheel: former mayors Michael Bloomberg and Bill de Blasio pushed for free bus routes and campaigned on affordable housing, respectively. As for the idea of city-owned grocery shops (five across the boroughs), it hardly amounts to closing Whole Foods.

If Mamdani manages to pull off even part of his agenda, it could be transformative. He is tackling uniquely New York problems but if the results in a metropolis of more than eight million people prove that progressive policies can work in a US context, it could be the blueprint for better quality of life elsewhere in the country.

Dubai Design Week 2025, which runs from today until Sunday in Dubai Design District (D3), arrives at a moment when the city’s design ambitions are no longer being underestimated. What began a decade ago as a fledgling regional showcase has matured into one of the most credible stops on the global design calendar. The event now attracts serious attention from curators, critics and creative directors who once confined their itineraries to Milan or London.

At this year’s edition, the festival’s 11th, international heavyweights such as Kartell, Vitra and Roche Bobois sit comfortably alongside an increasingly self-assured roster of regional voices. The tone is confident and cosmopolitan – this is not a week for novelties or spectacle but for substance and dialogue. As the director of Dubai Design Week, Natasha Carella, explains, “Our approach is guided by a commitment to high-quality, original design that contributes meaningfully to the global discourse.” That philosophy is visible across the programme, from material-driven experimentation to urban commissions that rethink how public spaces can foster connection.

Across D3’s courtyards and waterfront terraces, there’s a hum of anticipation. Designers from Sao Paulo to Seoul are setting up installations alongside collectives from Manama and Muscat. It’s proof – if it were needed – that the investments made by this desert city in cultural infrastructure, museums, architecture schools and public-art initiatives are now paying dividends.

To read the full piece on Dubai Design Week, from ornate pavilions to new perspectives, click here.