the palacio nacional at night
At over two hundred meters long, the baroque facade of the Palacio Nacional stretches impressively along the entire eastern edge of the Zócalo. It is from the main balcony of this august building that the president shouts the “Grito de Dolores” on the eve of Mexican Independence to the tens of thousands of people crowded below. Despite the beauty of the building, particulary at night when it is handsomely illuminated, I had never considered venturing inside the complex, which houses several small museums, the national archives, as well as the president’s office.
admirers of rivera's mural
How foolish I was; as any guidebook will tell you, the Palacio Nacional also boasts a breathtaking triptych of Diego Rivera murals. The series, collectively known as “The Epic of the Mexican People” dipicts centuries of Mexico’s history, from pre-Hispanic myths and cultural traditions, through the violence of the conquest and Independence, up through the early twentieth century. These murals are incredible; a person could spend hours examining the endless details, each fragment of a scene revealing something else about Rivera’s take on Mexican history. Currently, the murals are undergoing a renovation, but they seem to only be working on one section of the triptych at a time, leaving the others exposed for the public.
prior to the construction of the third story
The site of the Palacio Nacional is itself historically significant: here was the palace of Moctezuma II, known as the “New Houses.” After the fall of Tenochtitlan, the Aztec palace was nearly destroyed, and Cortés ordered a new palace for himself constructed on the same spot, supposedly using some of the very same red volcanic tezontle stones. After the death of Cortés, the palace became home to the viceroy and was nearly destroyed again when it was lit on fire by supporters of a rival archbishop. It was reconstructed and then went through a new renovation in the late seventeenth century, softening it’s fortress-like appearance into the stately facade we see today. (Although, interestingly, the third floor wasn’t added until the 1920s under Plutarco Elías Calles.) Anahí says that it’s rumored that the plans for the palace were mistakenly interchanged with those of a prison in Peru, and although I haven’t been able to substantiate this myth, it’s easy to imagine this imposing building being used for incarceration.
detail from "the epic of the mexican people"
I suspect most tourists who visit the Palacio Nacional don’t go much further than the Rivera murals, but the complex actually extends back several blocks east of the Zócalo. Beyond the murals, the people wondering around the grounds are an odd combination of soldiers and bureaucrats, with a sprinkling of well-dress families admiring the church that lies at the center of the palace. I was pleasantly surprised to find a small, but lovely garden of indigenous Mexican plants. We also discovered a small gallery featuring rotating exhibits on Mexican art and culture. Unless you’re really in a bind, I would skip the unimpressive gift shop, where you can buy such incongruous gifts as a traditionally embroidered neck-pillow for airline travel.
The Palacio Nacional also is home to the Benito Juarez museum, where you can visit the offices he kept when he was the president. Hailing from a peasant family in Oaxaca but eventually becoming the first (and only) indigenous president fo Mexico, Juarez is a fascinating historical and political figure. I was therefore frustrated to find that the museum was closed, with no useful information about how or when the museum is open to the public.
Despite my disappointment, the Palacio Nacional is definitely worth visiting, not just for the impressive Rivera murals, but for the history of the building itself. As you wander through the grounds, it’s easy to imagine the different historical periods reflected through each renovation. Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes described the palace as “both a traveling and an immobile construction” in how its architecture contains design elements that span continents and centuries. Reading this description, however, I chuckled, thinking of the limits of this immobility: like many builings in the Centro Historico, the palace is sinking, with many stone door frames that had once been at right angles now visibly askew.
Palacio Nacional; Zócalo (eastern end); Centro Historico. Tourists are limited to entering and exiting from the main gate on the Zócalo where they must pass through metal detectors and show identification, so be prepared. Free admission.