They are moving the Alisher Navoiy Museum from the heart of Tashkent.
The museum’s collections have already begun leaving its halls.
As one of Navoiy’s English translators, I cannot remain indifferent. I oppose the relocation of the museum. But after days of reflection, I have realized that the museum building itself is not our greatest tragedy.
The greater tragedy is that the world still does not know Alisher Navoiy.
For Uzbeks, Navoiy is far more than a poet. He is the father of Uzbek literature, one of the greatest voices of the Turkic world, a philosopher, statesman, and humanist whose works continue to speak of peace, justice, compassion, wisdom, dignity, and truth.
His name is everywhere in Uzbekistan. A major province bears his name. So do a city, universities, theatres, libraries, streets, schools, monuments, and museums. We proudly celebrate him at home.
Yet beyond our borders, surprisingly few people have ever heard his name.
For many years, I have dedicated myself to translating Navoiy’s works into English, including Farhod and Shirin, Layli and Majnun, and many of his ghazals. I have tried to publish them, introduce them abroad, and place his voice where it belongs: among the great classics of world literature.
I have also spent years advocating for an annual International Alisher Navoiy Literature Festival, international translation projects, writers’ residencies, and an initiative for Navoiy City to become a UNESCO City of Literature. These ideas have received little attention in my motherland, but I still believe they matter.
Today, many people are debating the future of one museum building.
I believe we should ask a much bigger question.
What are we doing to bring Alisher Navoiy to the world?
Who is translating him into English, Spanish, French, German, Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese, and dozens of other languages?
Who is introducing him to universities, libraries, literary festivals, and new generations of readers?
Who is ensuring that his timeless message of peace, friendship, justice, freedom, compassion, and human dignity becomes part of today’s global conversation?
This is why I hope this message reaches writers, translators, publishers, scholars, educators, librarians, festival directors, cultural institutions, and international organizations, including UNESCO.
The discussion should not end with the fate of one museum.
It should become the beginning of a much larger international effort to bring Alisher Navoiy’s voice to the place it deserves: in world literature and in the hearts of readers everywhere.
History does not remember the nations that merely admired their great writers.
It remembers those that introduced them to humanity.
Let us not simply celebrate Alisher Navoiy.
Let us ensure that his words continue to cross borders, languages, and generations.
Only then will we truly honor his legacy.

