After Emiratis, it’s really Malabaris, in the [economic] pecking order of Abu Dhabi,” says our Pakistani cabbie, driving near a street, lined with billboards advertising Malabar Jewellers, starring Bollywood heroines.
By Malabar, he means north Kerala, with a strong Muslim/Mapilla population, wherefrom, presumably, an early wave of Indian migration took place to the United Arab Emirates (UAE). Malabar Coast held trade ties with Arabs, even before oil-boom.
Abu Dhabi, with largest oil reserves, is UAE’s capital. What if I told you, New Delhi was once the capital of UAE? That would be factually incorrect; but, technically, true!
As in, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Sharjah, Ajman, Umm Al Quwain, Ras Al Khaimah, Fujairah — together known as UAE since their independence in 1971 — were once separate sheikhdoms called ‘Trucial States’, of the British.
Brits signed truce/peace treaties, beginning 19th century. Whereby they operated foreign policy and military. Sheikhs owned and controlled the lands. Which made them protectorates, as against colonies.
Brits had political reps in the region who, in turn, reported to the Viceroy in New Delhi, until 1947. As late as 1966, the Indian Rupee was the local currency of Trucial States!
Taxi drivers are usually unreliable reporters of their cities. But this nth Pakistani on our nth Uber ride, I realise, is a philosopher of sorts.
He unwittingly explains why the anti-immigrant wave being experienced on the streets plus politics of most democracies, including the USA, has left UAE untouched; or gone in the opposite direction, in fact.
He says, “Beauty of this place is it belongs to a family (Sheikhs from Al Nahyan family). They are secure about it, and work to make it the best. As against politicians, who come and go, and make the most of profiteering from their limited time in power.”
There’s an India-Pakistan match the following night in Dubai, a drive down. He cares two hoots. He says he has no time. He’s there to work, upwards of 12-14 hours a day, then shacking in a labour “camp”; remitting savings home, or making a better earning for himself.
You can tell, he doesn’t envy the locals/Emiratis, who are wonderfully well taken care of, from how the UAE benefits from expats.
He doesn’t longingly eye execs in white-collar jobs, or millionaires, white in colour, parking their wealth better from Britain (post-Brexit), Russia, Ukraine (post-war), either.
There is no intermediate class between the fancy Uber and privately-owned SUVs/sports cars — there are no hatchbacks or smaller sedans on streets. It appears even the middle-classes show up from other parts of the world to effectively elevate to the upper class; massively saving on taxes, investing, working smarter. Belongings, in general, are safe.
Emiratis seemingly honour this deal, instead of resenting it. They comprise merely 10 per cent of UAE, with about a whopping 90 per cent expats (50 per cent plus, South Asians) — who, for all their life’s stay shall always hold passports of the country of their origin.
There’s no ambiguity. Order’s apparent. Expats don’t have voting rights. Neither do locals. Dissent be dismissed for more real rewards, perhaps.
Laws are mostly clear; if not, you’d rather err on the side of caution! Sheer disappearance, if not deportation, executed by the state, is too strong a deterrence. You barely see cops in Abu Dhabi. You needn’t.
You observe Emiratis, inevitably among themselves, at bars, restaurants, malls, in the traditional, flowing whites, having given up on fashion for their lifetime, with a marker on their headgear, surveying the land they own, that grows with talents and workhorses they invited over for it. Respect appears mutual.
Was it always like this in the unbearably hot, prickly desert, paved with gold? For at least Abu Dhabi, I guess it would’ve started around the late 1950s. Don’t know what they should be more thankful for — discovery of oil; or invention of air-conditioners; simultaneously, a fast-moving consumable product, by then.
Practically, everywhere you go, between Abu Dhabi-Dubai, in 2025, whether a hotel or museum, office high-rise or huge convention centre, you’re inevitably told,
“There was nothing here, 15-20 years ago!” Clearly, there was an inflection point then.
Besides vision and benevolence, which is the only way monarchies have benefitted masses, throughout history — I suppose the rulers realised entertainment is how expats can leave home, yet feel free, in another country.
To work, and spend — while high-end malls are bustling past midnight, as we walk into the Apple store, with spas open until 3 am, offering nationalities in their menus, as if they were serving cuisines.
We bar-hop, non-stop, still — parking ourselves at Velocity, totally packed for an Indian DJ, Phillora (who I thought was Armenian), mixing global plus Punjabi tracks, for a primarily Philippine female audience, on a ‘ladies’ night’, with Pussycat Dolls x AR Rahman on silent TVs.
A city with that many ethnicities is an education in music, first.
I wonder what the neighbouring Islamic/Gulf countries feel about UAE’s seamlessly social openness/liberalism. Already, people talk about Saudi Arabia as the next UAE. Ras Al Khaimah, next-door, being planned as the next Las Vegas!
I’m looking at images from my flight-window, descending on Abu Dhabi, with nothingness, for as long as the eyes can see; just a road, crisscrossing through a desert. Man, this can grow forever.
Mayank Shekhar attempts to make sense of mass culture.
He tweets @mayankw14 Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.