Irina, a young Russian from St. Petersburg, shows the street name to the Pakistani taxi driver who just picked her up. On her phone screen, the address is clear. The driver is unfamiliar with the location and lets them know. She and her friend Alexandra look at each other puzzled.
- The GPS has not been working in the city of Dubai for a while. Can you guide me?
- We don't know the way back. What can we do?
- Look for another taxi driver who knows the place.
This way, Irina and Alexandra start asking in the taxi queue if anyone can take them to the rental villa where they live, and in the process, they realize that the conflict is starting to affect their lives in ways they never imagined. For the past three days, Dubai has activated a powerful electronic warfare system, similar to what Ukraine uses in cities like Kharkiv, to confuse the Iranian drones that are targeting the heart of its economy. At times, the GPS shows us in the middle of the sea, and our phones pick up the time from Iran, meaning it advances by 30 minutes.
Beneath the imposing Burj Khalifa, the 828-meter glass and concrete needle, pride of the emirate, lies its famous dancing fountains, but today they do not dance for anyone because the tourists who were supposed to enjoy them either left or never arrived. The Dubai Mall, a three-story luxury shopping center, is half-empty, just like the private beaches of its impressive marina, the banking district, tightly closed, and the hotels, offering ridiculously low prices in the peak season. But war arrived with a bang 14 days ago.
The state has not yet used anti-aircraft alarms in the streets like those heard daily in Tel Aviv or Kiev, has not wanted to close the airport despite several drone attacks on its facilities, and encourages businesses to remain open to convey a sense of normality. The question everyone is asking here is how long that feeling will last and whether it is not an artificial narrative, considering a neighbor like Iran across the Persian Gulf.
Dubai shot down 10 ballistic missiles from Iran just yesterday, Thursday, and another 26 drones. One of them, right in front of its famous bay, with bursts of gunfire from a combat helicopter. Fighter jets patrol the sky continuously, using their expensive air-to-air missiles to shoot down Iran's infamous Shahed 136, true buzzing flying bombs, whose buzzing reminds us of their Russian twins flying over and attacking Ukrainian cities. One of them hit the northern part of the city, in the middle of a skyscraper.
An empty beach in the tourist area of Le Mer, yesterday, in Dubai.A. R.
If we leave the tourist area and venture into the skyscraper-lined streets housing large and small companies from around the world, the traffic increases (never reaching pre-war levels), and more people are seen on the streets, many of them Indian and Pakistani construction workers, working 12-hour shifts to continue expanding this city that grows by over 200,000 new residents every year. Or at least that was the case before the war's blow halted the skyscraper expansion. Most American workers have left, but Spanish speakers remain here, some telecommuting, and others even going to the office. Luis Álvarez, a private pilot by profession and a resident of Dubai for nine years, says: "The Spanish community feels grateful to the Emirati state for how they have treated us, the same as their own citizens. We have taken our families out of here, but a few of us stayed to work."
Another Spanish individual working somewhat normally is Francisco Almansa, a real estate entrepreneur in Dubai, who welcomes us to his office in the city center: "This city was built in less than 20 years. Everything you see from this window [points to a large window overlooking the Dubai skyline] was a desert in 2009. Since then, it has gone through several tough times where those of us living here heard that Dubai was collapsing, but it always came out stronger in the end. I hope this time is no different."
Dubai discovered its oil reserves in 1966, at the Fateh field, and began exporting in 1969. Over the following decades, it was a significant source of income, but the reserves were relatively small. Starting in the 1990s, production began to decline rapidly, and today oil represents less than 1% of Dubai's GDP. In practical terms, Dubai stopped relying on oil about 25 to 30 years ago when it decided to transform its economy into a hub for trade, finance, tourism, and aviation. Hence, its economic model is seen as a post-oil system that has been successful.
"Many people in the West hate Dubai and now celebrate what is happening," says Almansa. "But those of us living here already have a very strong sense of belonging." The same opinion is shared by Axel Costa, a Spanish entrepreneur who believes that "Dubai is a fiscal, investment, and security utopia... The city is based on trust, and the response from the Emirati state has been very good, keeping the airport open calmly, with 48 planes taking off per hour. That has led many of us who have been here for more than six months to stay. Those who left were those who had been here for less than three months."
Authorities are cautious but also strict with those who record and disseminate videos of the attacks. A British citizen has already been arrested for this. Meanwhile, on social media, influencers of all kinds have started their own war: for some, Dubai is finished as a business project and tourist center. For others, in a few weeks, the city will regain its former vibrancy, and the war will become a bad dream.
The reality, however, is neither black nor white. Dubai has felt the impact, and many are still in shock, but its recovery will depend on the duration of the conflict. If the United States and Iran decide to de-escalate, everything could return to normal, although the scar on security perception may remain.
Conversely, if the war drags on, the damage could be severe. "We are in the worst and unimaginable scenario," says Francisco Almansa. "Here, they feared the worst when they talked about stray missiles or drone debris accidentally falling in this territory, but no, they have deliberately launched them against Dubai, even though Dubai has never fought against Iran, they aim to destroy our way of life."
The sunset casts an orange filter on the skyscrapers' mirrors. We head to the beach area in search of tourists, but there are none. Several clubs with private beaches remain open in the La Mer Beach area, but we only see a legion of waiters waiting for customers. Since it's empty, they suggest we go to the public area of the beach to see if anyone is there. Lifeguards spend their time chatting due to the lack of swimmers. The Indian taxi driver taking us back to the hotel sums up the situation in a few words: "It's all Donald Trump's fault. Now let's see who fixes this."