In Abu Dhabi, French photographer Jack Burlot, 78, stands inside the newly opened Zayed National Museum, confronted with a past he did not expect would resonate so deeply. Seeing his photographs of UAE Founding Father, the late Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, displayed within a national institution proved more powerful than anticipated.
“I had goosebumps,” he tells The National. “I was almost crying.”
The museum on Saadiyat Cultural District traces the story of the UAE as both land and nation, drawing on artefacts contributed largely by Emirati families and local institutions.
For Burlot, what matters most is not scale or spectacle, but intent. The experience also brought his personal journey with the UAE, and his connection to Sheikh Zayed, into sharper focus.
He reflects on Sheikh Zayed’s Bedouin heritage and vision for the UAE, noting that while oil played a role in the nation’s development, it was leadership that truly shaped its course. “He could see the future of his country,” says Burlot.
That clarity left a lasting impression. Burlot says leadership such as Sheikh Zayed’s is rare, and the photographer often reflects on how different the world might be if more leaders shared that vision. Whenever he returns to Abu Dhabi, he visits Sheikh Zayed’s resting place, something that's become a personal ritual, not simply a symbolic gesture.
Burlot's relationship with the UAE began in 1974, when he arrived in Abu Dhabi at a moment when the city – and the country around it – was still taking shape. He did not come as a documentarian of history, but as a young photographer awaiting clearance to take up a role recording work in the oil sector.
“I started taking photographs in the street, just to have something to do,” he says.
What he encountered quickly shifted his focus. The people he met were unlike anywhere else, he says. Their openness, rhythms of daily life and willingness to engage drew him in. Burlot spent long days observing the city, meeting people and photographing what unfolded naturally around him.
In those early years, Burlot recalls curiosity rather than resistance. People were often unsure what a camera meant or what would become of the images. “They were surprised, but not afraid,” he says.
Language was a barrier. Most people did not speak English and Burlot did not speak Arabic. Yet he describes the atmosphere as calm and non-confrontational. Photography, he says, simply was not part of everyday experience yet, which allowed moments to exist without self-consciousness.
Looking back, Burlot acknowledges how unusual some of those photographs now seem: fashion images made in public spaces; portraits captured without formal permission; scenes of daily life unfolding freely. He attributes the access he was given not to skill, but to circumstance. The society he encountered had not yet developed a relationship with the camera.
As his time in Abu Dhabi continued, Burlot’s work eventually brought him into contact with the country’s leadership, including Sheikh Zayed.
Back then, the photographer was a young man with long hair, well aware that he stood out. Sheikh Zayed, he says, found him amusing. Yet the absence of a shared culture did not prevent connection; Burlot describes a sense of immediate humanity, something he says he had not experienced with other heads of state.
Over time, his relationship with the UAE deepened beyond professional work. The people he met became friends. He recalls time spent in the desert, cooking over open fires and talking late into the night. Those experiences remain among his most meaningful memories.
Burlot says that as a photographer, he rarely thinks about legacy while working, but rather responds to what is in front of him. Only later does the meaning settle. Seeing his photographs now positioned as part of the country’s collective memory has allowed him to confront that reality.
Burlot is particularly struck by how the museum presents Sheikh Zayed’s life, from his early years in the desert to the formation of the modern state. That journey invites more reflection than celebration. It asks visitors to consider how nations are built, and what responsibilities come with that inheritance.
Today, Burlot sees a country transformed by technology, business and globalisation, but not disconnected from its roots. “People still go to the desert,” he says. “The approach is different, but the connection remains.”
For Burlot, the museum captures that continuity. It does not freeze the past, but situates it within a longer story. A quote attributed to Sheikh Zayed embedded within the museum – that a future cannot be understood without knowing the past – resonates deeply with him.
For a photographer who arrived by chance and stayed through connection, the recognition feels complete. His work now sits not just in archives, but within the narrative of the country itself.
“It’s an honour to be part of that remembrance,” he says.
