Diminished Dubai
WE do not need to wonder any longer what it must be like to live through a world war. A statement like this may have seemed hyperbole mere weeks ago but it no longer does. Before our eyes we see bombs, burning buildings and scurrying citizens. Ships are being sunk, swarms of drones being deployed, and barrages of ballistic missiles being launched. The bombing of an oil refinery near Tehran covered the city in slick black oil. The scene seems almost metaphorical — how oil has cursed those who have it and those who do not.
Analysts are offering insights into the ‘game’ that is afoot with major powers, Russia and China, watching in the wings as the US sinks billions it cannot afford into a war that few Americans support. Strategic calculations point to a sobering truth: the Middle Eastern landscape has changed forever. The myths of who is safe, who is right, who is a friend or foe have altered. The central focus may be on the US, Israel and Iran but the unexpected costs will likely accrue in places that once believed themselves above the squabbles and wars of the region.
One of the biggest losers will undoubtedly be the GCC countries which, despite a tumultuous past, had positioned themselves as impermeable to the vagaries of their restive neighbourhood. Their fury at the halcyon days being over was evident recently when they introduced a resolution at the UN Security Council condemning Iran for attacking them. The resolution — which had a historic 135 states supporting it — made no mention of the fact that it was the US and Israel that began this war. When Russia and China — both of whom abstained rather than vetoing the resolution — raised questions about the lack of censure for the instigators, GCC representatives replied that it was their resolution and Iran was the country they wished to condemn.
Censure or no censure, the damage has already been done. Take the case of Dubai — arguably the biggest loser among the GCC states. Dubai produces little fossil fuels compared to its neighbours but it has branded itself as a luxe destination for well-heeled Westerners. Its courting of Western influencers meant that its trademark garish materialism was repackaged as cool, aesthetic and aspirational. Dubai’s tax-free status and reputation for safety encouraged the world’s wealthy to park their money — and themselves — in the city. At the same time, its tolerance of exploitative labour systems ensured a vast workforce ready to serve this lifestyle. In simple terms, Dubai constructed an amoral haven of consumption that attracted those who wished to live without troubling questions being asked about how wealth was made, spent or sustained.
Dubai is no longer insulated by a magic bubble.
That Dubai is gone forever. As soon as Iranian drones struck near Dubai airport, the city — which relied so heavily on being seen as untouched by regional turmoil — lost that illusion of security. Within hours, debris from a downed drone caused a fire at Burj al-Arab, damaging the iconic building that symbolised the emirate’s carefully crafted image. Soon after, influencers — the very people Dubai had courted so fervently — began posting frantic videos about their fear and their desperation to leave. With tear-stained faces they spoke of not knowing what was happening and how war had come to Dubai. It all spread across social media, doing more damage than bombs to the reputation of a city that had long convinced the world it somehow existed outside the Middle East.
Since then, the UAE government has tried to contain the damage. Influencers were mobilised to counter the frightened narrative with carefully curated images of calm and normalcy. Officials insisted that the UAE continues to enjoy a high level of safety. Yet, as one British national told The Guardian, “the shine has been taken off”. Even if most of the projectiles aimed at the city were intercepted by UAE defences, some still struck — and for a city that marketed absolute safety, even a handful was too many. Dubai was, after all, the place where people could drink and spend lavishly without worrying about crime — or errant missiles.
Dubai’s animal shelters are now reportedly full of pets abandoned by fleeing expatriates — a symbol of the fickle loyalties of those who were once the city’s loudest cheerleaders. Meanwhile, Dubai’s migrant workers — including over a million Pakistanis — remain in a city that has little love for them. This Dubai, however, is a diminished Dubai. Even if the war and missiles were to cease tomorrow, the damage has already been done. Dubai is no longer seen as insulated inside a magic bubble, immune to the turmoil surrounding it. For a city that thrived on the image of luxury untouched by crisis, this war has delivered a profound blow.
The writer is an attorney teaching constitutional law and political philosophy.
Published in Dawn, March 14th, 2026