From Vision™ to nightmare

It was October 2003; the setting was the recently opened Madinat Jumeirah, its lobby strewn with even more rose-petals and incense-bearers than usual. For the weary Dubai hack pack, lured there by the anticipation of free Jumeirah International catering and yet another laser-etched paperweight or pleather business folder, it was clear that Sheikhliness was afoot.

Sharpened pencils and reporters' notebooks were readied as the crowds descended the elevator into the press conference room. It was packed to the rafters. As well as journalists there were endless VIP guests, businesspeople and white-robed members of the royal retinue.

This was an era of great works of Vision™ - from Dubai Internet City and Media City to Dubai International Financial Centre. The emirate was growing, it was the start of the boom. People were excited about Dubai, they were anticipating great things. So far everything made sense. The direction was clear. Trade, commerce, technology: all areas that Dubai already did or likely could excel at.

And then a lengthy video played, introducing Dubailand. Endless CGI scenes of housing developments were intercut with stock footage of theme parks and shots of Dubai. It was more bewildering than impressive. As it went on, it made progressively less sense. The accompanying speech was no more enlightening.

As the media shuffled out, and started swapping notes, one thing became clear. Everyone had been left with a strange, prevailing sensation of tackiness. (According to one source in a production company that didn't win the bid, the video was made on the cheap in Asia). Nonetheless, this was an era when everyone believed in Dubai, and when everyone - local or expat - wanted to believe in Dubai.

But no one understood Dubailand. Other than that it appeared to be connected to tourism, it didn't seem very well defined. And its history has been one of cancellations, cover-ups, shifting goalposts. There was this article by ITP (link goes to archived pdf): "Projects worth billions of dollars have been shelved on the massive Dubailand development" - it was hastily pulled from the web, despite containing quotes from a senior official. Its assertions were never corrected or denied. As one source says in the banned article: "Many [projects] were unfeasible and impractical - the numbers just didn’t work, and they were simply shrouded by the glitz of the idea."

Looking back, Dubailand is perhaps the defining moment when the Vision™ first faltered. Let us not forget what we were told that day, these are the words of His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum:

"I would like to tell capitalists that Dubai does not need investors, investors need Dubai and I tell you that the risk lies not in using your money but in letting it pile up. It is dormant and dead if it is merely a figure in an account. I tell them not to hold onto it and kill it in safes, let it breathe and be active because money is like water - if you lock it up, it becomes stagnant and foul-smelling, but if you let it flow, it stays fresh. If it does not flow, it will become stagnant and its colour will change. When I encourage you to invest, I am not asking you to put your money into a fire - I guarantee that your money will be invested in carefully studied projects. I want to be frank with you - I have the courage to take decisions and to bear the responsibility for the consequences. Do you have the courage to be frank and decisive?"


Comments

A Dubai fairytale

"Mysteriously veiled women flit below magnificent crescent-shaped archways while men in long white flowing robes sit by the side of the canal drinking Arabic coffee."

When exactly did this Sydney Morning Herald journalist visit Dubai? Their Souk it up article is dated 1st July 2007 but there is no way even a mad dog or an Englishman is enjoying al fresco hot beverages at this time of year.

Though perhaps heatstroke is the kindest explanation for such a fevered advertorial storycake. The Madinat is indeed scenic with its artificial canals and faux windtowers. But "men in long white flowing robes" drinking coffee in 100 degree heat? Not unless Jumeirah International has started scattering actors around its properties for extra Arabian authenticity. "Mysteriously veiled" women "flitting" about? Come on. This is barely a step away from the harem scene in Carry On Up My Camel.

"I throw open the veranda doors..."

And crank up the air conditioning?

"Except for the occasional golf buggy that zips along the path, I could easily imagine sailing through an Arabian Nights fairytale with Sinbad the Sailor."

The keyword here is "fairytale".

"The writer was a guest of Emirates and Madinat Jumeirah."

Say no more.

The bald and the beautiful

Determined to share more fully in the Arabian experience, spinster schoolmarm Margery plans a final day of culture and tradition. The first move for the spinster schoolmarm is making the perilous journey from the Schwarzwald to Bald Eagle Point, Brazil. Surely such pluck will attract an oil sheikh or two?

But alas! There are none to be found in her second destination, the air-conditioned labyrinth of the Madinat Jumeirah, despite its highly authentic Arabian themepark flavour. Margery wanders, somewhat bow-legged, through the brand new ancient souq. Traditional Arabian souvenirs tempt her from all sides: toy camels dressed as ballerinas and Wild Wadi lifeguards, richly gilded mosque alarm clocks of finest factory plastic, and tinfoil khanjar daggers beautifully engraved with Arabic calligraphy spelling Made In China.

The third and final part of Margery's Arabian extravaganza is dinner at Mashawi, in the picturesque setting of Ibn Battuta mall car park. The food - as ever - is excellent, but sadly the traditional majilis-style outdoor shisha areas have been replaced with plastic chairs and tables, under orders of the general manager according to a waiter. No wonder that the white-robed sheikhs that used to frequent Mashawi are long fled.

And poor Margery must return a spinster once again, after yet another failed marital hunting trip.