The Towering Dream of Dubai

The result is a gross domestic product that has grown 45 percent in four years. Everyone seems to have a different number for nationalities here -- 150, 180, more than 200, all drawn by a modern-day gold rush. English is the lingua franca. Lucy and Camilla d'Abo, two British nationals who spent part of their youth here and returned as professionals, said they found more opportunity, as women, in Dubai than in Britain. Their public relations company, d'Events, has doubled in size each year.

"I believe it's the land of opportunity," Camilla d'Abo said. "It's a case study in . . . " She thought a moment. "It's like nothing else."

The boom has drawn the Arab world's best and brightest, and many of its most influential expatriates speak with the force of the converted. Saidi is one. He recalled a generation of disappointments. In 1960, he noted bitterly, Egypt had the same per capita income as South Korea. More than a decade ago, when he returned to Lebanon after its civil war and served as a Central Bank official and later a government minister, he envisioned a Dubai model for Beirut. Those hopes were dashed by Lebanon's intractable politics.

"What is attractive for me is they effectively told me that what you weren't able to do in Lebanon, we're going to open the door here," he said from the 14th floor of a building aptly called the Gate, the cornerstone of the new International Financial Center.

He sees Dubai as the champion of greater economic unity in the Arab world, finally realizing the promises nationalist leaders made for 50 years that were broken by political divisions and economic failure.

Already, signs of Dubai's impetus are visible around the Gulf. Qatar, in self-conscious competition with Dubai, has launched a spectacular building campaign. Saudi Arabia is planning a free-trade zone on the Red Sea. Bahrain and Kuwait are trying to recapture prestige they lost to Dubai in the 1990s. In recent months, private and quasi-government companies in Dubai have announced investments in Arab countries stretching from Morocco on the Atlantic coast to Jordan in the Middle East.

"We missed an opportunity in the 1970s when the oil wealth was there or emerging. People have learned their lessons, and I think we're getting it right this time," Saidi said. "You never had a champion. Today you have one."

Yasar Jarrar, a British-educated Jordanian who serves as the executive dean of the Dubai School of Government, put it more bluntly. Forget the American Dream, the goal of a generation of young Arabs, he said. "This is the Dubai dream."

On the Rails or Off the Tracks

Like others, Jarrar invoked the metaphor of the railroad. He acknowledged that not everyone in Dubai is comfortable with the relentless globalization. "Dubai is a very fast-paced city," Jarrar, 35, said. "There are big ambitions, and whether we accept it or not, returning to those days" in the past "is no longer an option. The train has passed that station. Dubai has moved on."

Roken, the human rights lawyer, uses the same analogy -- a train -- but with different implications.

"The people of Dubai are on a first-class train, a speedy one, seeing nice views, but there is one drawback to this train, and many people are not aware of it," he said, his sparse room decorated with a Koranic inscription, a rare show of religion in Dubai. "It has no brakes. They're enjoying the luxury of the compartment, the scenery, but without brakes, it might crash one day, unfortunately."

Roken, 43, with thick glasses and a salt-and-pepper beard, shies from labels. His promotion of human rights and civil society might make him a liberal in a Western context. In the Arab world, his defense of tradition and morals mirrors the themes of political Islam. Taken together, he is a gadfly, which has repeatedly landed him in trouble.

Three times in three years, government security services canceled his lectures, usually with a phone call to the organizer. One talk was on the U.S. invasion of Iraq, another on the importance of holding popular elections for the first time in the country.

In 2000, he was banned from writing his column in the Gulf newspaper. In 2002, he was forbidden to teach at the university. Two years later, with 21 others, he submitted an application for a human rights group.

"They just took it and put it in the drawer," he said.

Roken's focus is his society and what it is no longer. The city's gritty beginnings have become part of the legend of the Dubai model. Its museum celebrates records that as recently as 1908 summed up Dubai's wealth in a few typewritten lines, including 4,000 date trees, 1,650 camels, 45 horses, 380 donkeys, 430 cattle and 960 goats. Pearl diving and fishing were mainstays until a generation ago. The Indian rupee served as the currency until 1966.

The itinerant city Roken sees today is unrecognizable, not even Arab. All that remains of the neighborhood of his youth is the mosque. When he goes to a mall, he estimates that 99 percent of the patrons are foreigners, and he rarely hears Arabic. Despite religious prohibitions, drinking is unabashed, and he fears public wine-tasting parties are on the way. The beaches of his youth were either taken over by hotels and their occasionally topless sunbathers or frequented by Westerners whose dress he deems inappropriate. He grimaces at women jogging in the streets, sometimes with their dogs, considered unclean under Islamic law. The celebration of Islamic holidays and the country's national day on Dec. 2 pale before the more commercialized commemoration of Christmas.

To maintain his identity as an Arab and Muslim, he has retreated farther from the city -- first from the central neighborhood of Deira, then a few miles away to an area near the airport, a few more miles away to Merdif and now even farther to Mizhar.

"Internal exile," he said.

Arguments for democratic reform in the Arab world are often offered as an antidote to the region's stagnation and repression. Roken argues for democratic reform, but on different grounds. Only with more say by citizens like him can the process of Dubai's globalization be stanched. His democratic vision is not of a different society, but of a society he once had.

"The brakes are accountability, sharing in the decision-making," he said. "These things will work as brakes on the train's speed. If citizens had a say, I don't think the city would have turned into this."

Government surveys reflect the unease among native Emiratis, even though officials are unsure how to respond. Roken said the society's traditional deference to the leadership of the ruling family remains intact. People prefer retreating to fighting.

"Until now, there is no violence, thank God," he said. He spoke slowly, knitting his brow, and he chose his words carefully. "The people are very accepting, understanding and tolerant. But who knows what will happen if it crosses red lines?"

"I don't think it's too late," he added. "But in five years time? If it's not dealt with?" He shook his head and left the question unanswered.