As I read earlier this month that the Prime Minister, Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid, had announced the development of a unified corporate identity for the country as part of Vision 2021, I was pleased. It speaks volumes that the word development was used instead of “strengthening”, which would infer that a common brand already existed.
In fact, individual emirates have all too frequently had their separate identities promoted abroad in the past decade. Some people may regard this as acceptable – I would like to assure them that among nationals, acceptable is the farthest thing from the truth when the fragmentation of the country is portrayed in the media.
There are already corporate symbols of unity that Emiratis regard with pride. One that comes to mind is Etihad (or Union) Airlines, the award-winning carrier. Of course, Emirates Airlines, which bears the federation’s name, is also an important global ambassador of the national brand. Back home, one looks towards the Emirates Palace in Abu Dhabi and the towers in Dubai.
On the other hand, there are examples of Emirati corporate branding that have favoured highlighting individual emirates over co-branding. Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Sharjah and Ajman have all launched global tourism campaigns featured on CNN, BBC and other television networks with one common factor: they all unashamedly neglect to mention the name of the United Arab Emirates.
By contrast, the now-acclaimed Incredible India campaign, conceptualised in 2002, understands that country’s history, symbolism and the message that should be portrayed. The campaign was so successful it managed to increase high-end tourism to India by 16 per cent in its first year and today is a case study of tourism marketing. When cities or regions promote themselves individually, like Kerala, Goa or Uttar Pradesh, Incredible India always appears in the background to build Brand India.
The same goes for Malaysia’s Truly Asia campaign, which markets the federation as a single destination. Even when one of the states promotes itself individually, the phrase “Malaysia Truly Asia” appears clearly in the background. Frankly, I have no doubt that if Emiratis were responsible for the UAE’s tourism campaigns we see on television, the name of the country would have appeared.
The truth is, in order for us to project a unified single identity, we need to start reflecting it in ourselves first. Until Emiratis start taking this matter seriously, our fragmented branding will continue to remain the victim of global marketing agencies.
It is no surprise that a unified corporate identity for the UAE is not marketed abroad. While the UAE prides itself as an early member of the World Trade Organisation, it is not a member of the other WTO, the World Tourism Organisation. In fact, many are unaware that the UAE does not qualify to be a member of this global tourism body for the simple, and some may think absurd, fact that we do not have a federal ministry of tourism. As I highlighted in a previous column in The National about the Federal National Council (FNC), in April 2007 a draft law was sent to the FNC by the Ministerial Cabinet on establishing a National Council for Tourism and Antiquities, effectively a tourism ministry. Almost three years later, we have yet to hear from the FNC about it.
But why does a country that is about to enter its fifth decade in existence and is counted among the favourite destinations for travellers from across the world not have a federal tourism ministry? It was never emphasised in early years, because, like other fledgling federations, unifying the armed and police forces, social services and education were and continue to be the priority.
During last week’s ITB Berlin, the world’s biggest tourism convention, the emirates of Abu Dhabi, Dubai and Sharjah were represented in separate booths. There were 253 exhibitors from the UAE, but not a single federal institution promoting Brand Emirates.
There is a risk that as more people abroad see the various emirates as separate states, this mentality will seep into the culture of this mostly expat nation. Unless Emiratis take this matter seriously, no one else will, Vision2021 or not.
*This article first appeared on The National on Sunday 14th March 2010
Showing posts with label national identity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label national identity. Show all posts
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Book that proves some Emiratis are more equal than others
The phrase “all Emiratis are equal, but some Emiratis are more equal than others” sums up the idea behind this article. For there is a world unknown to a majority of Emiratis whose tragedy cannot be overestimated.
Before the advent of the official Emirates Identification card, a passport was thought by many to be the most important legal identification. However, unlike many other nations, “real” Emiratis have to be holders of a document known as Kholasat Qaid, or a Family Book. If a person is married then the name of the spouse is also included in this book along with the names of parents and children. Possessing this book, not a regular passport, is what apparently make one a “real Emirati”. Not having one is not too different from carrying a passport from the United Nations. One can use the passport for travel but it doesn’t show that you belong anywhere.
The vast majority of Emiratis have a family book except for a small number of children of Emirati mothers and foreign fathers. In the past few years the UAE government has taken positive steps to naturalise the children of Emirati mothers who married non-nationals so that they could be given the same rights of children whose fathers are Emirati but whose mothers are not. Previously these mothers had to resort to seeking exemptions for their children to enrol in public schools and to receive treatment in government hospitals.
This was a welcome step and hailed by the local media. Sadly, there are two issues that remain unresolved. These steps were not equally applied to the children of all Emirati mothers married to non-nationals. Some were given passports while others continue to be in a state of suspended identity. The mothers of these children continue to go to the naturalisation departments to get residence visas for their sons and daughters, whom they have given birth to and raised in the UAE. The lucky ones were handed a magic document, a passport to better opportunities and infinite possibilities, or so they had thought.
Not long after these children were granted passports did their mothers discover that this was a bittersweet and incomplete step since they still lacked the precious family book. Take the case of Ayesha, a UAE citizen and mother, whose love for this country is unquestioned. Ayesha decided to marry an American of Arab origin whom she had met during her time as a student in the US. Ayesha put her faith in the country, moved back after her studies and raised her family here, teaching her children about Emirati culture, values and traditions. Her children were Emirati in all but citizenship. When the government’s other Emiratisation scheme kicked off, she applied for citizenship for her children. She was told that her children would have to forgo their US passports in order to qualify for Emirati citizenship, which they gladly did. Their US passports were returned promptly and the children continued their studies in their respective private schools. Today, however, Ayesha’s eldest is enrolled in her final year of high-school but will be prohibited from attending Zayed University, the Higher Colleges of Technology or the United Arab Emirates University in Al Ain because she lacks a family book.
To add to their financial burdens, Emirati women married to non-nationals don’t qualify for subsidised housing provided by the numerous housing programmes across the country. Emirati women, like their male counterparts, should have the right to marry whomever they wish and not be punished for their decision.
On the one hand, it is not uncommon for Emirati men who study abroad to marry foreign women, decreasing the “pool” of potential spouses for Emirati women. On the other hand, as Emirati women continue to outnumber men in university, many of them will not be in a position to meet suitable husbands with equal levels of education, making them more likely to marry non-nationals.
These different standards for national men and women can no longer continue. In this globalised world, who among us can claim to be 100 per cent pure and real Emirati? I do not dispute the need for us as a young and wealthy country to protect our identity and customs. We must make sure that no marriages of convenience take place for the purpose of taking advantage of the generous government welfare programmes. But we could balance these necessities by granting spouses, both male and female, citizenship after a long period of marriage. Still, we should grant their children equal opportunities immediately, which means providing them with a family book.
When the UAE announced that it had ratified the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child in 1997 it vowed to make education “free for all stages starting from kindergarten to university”. Nothing was said about the law only applying to UAE citizens who hold a special little brown book.
This must end. It’s against human rights, against our religion, customs and traditions. Above all, it’s un-Emirati.
*This article first appeared in The National on Sunday 7th February 2010
Before the advent of the official Emirates Identification card, a passport was thought by many to be the most important legal identification. However, unlike many other nations, “real” Emiratis have to be holders of a document known as Kholasat Qaid, or a Family Book. If a person is married then the name of the spouse is also included in this book along with the names of parents and children. Possessing this book, not a regular passport, is what apparently make one a “real Emirati”. Not having one is not too different from carrying a passport from the United Nations. One can use the passport for travel but it doesn’t show that you belong anywhere.
The vast majority of Emiratis have a family book except for a small number of children of Emirati mothers and foreign fathers. In the past few years the UAE government has taken positive steps to naturalise the children of Emirati mothers who married non-nationals so that they could be given the same rights of children whose fathers are Emirati but whose mothers are not. Previously these mothers had to resort to seeking exemptions for their children to enrol in public schools and to receive treatment in government hospitals.
This was a welcome step and hailed by the local media. Sadly, there are two issues that remain unresolved. These steps were not equally applied to the children of all Emirati mothers married to non-nationals. Some were given passports while others continue to be in a state of suspended identity. The mothers of these children continue to go to the naturalisation departments to get residence visas for their sons and daughters, whom they have given birth to and raised in the UAE. The lucky ones were handed a magic document, a passport to better opportunities and infinite possibilities, or so they had thought.
Not long after these children were granted passports did their mothers discover that this was a bittersweet and incomplete step since they still lacked the precious family book. Take the case of Ayesha, a UAE citizen and mother, whose love for this country is unquestioned. Ayesha decided to marry an American of Arab origin whom she had met during her time as a student in the US. Ayesha put her faith in the country, moved back after her studies and raised her family here, teaching her children about Emirati culture, values and traditions. Her children were Emirati in all but citizenship. When the government’s other Emiratisation scheme kicked off, she applied for citizenship for her children. She was told that her children would have to forgo their US passports in order to qualify for Emirati citizenship, which they gladly did. Their US passports were returned promptly and the children continued their studies in their respective private schools. Today, however, Ayesha’s eldest is enrolled in her final year of high-school but will be prohibited from attending Zayed University, the Higher Colleges of Technology or the United Arab Emirates University in Al Ain because she lacks a family book.
To add to their financial burdens, Emirati women married to non-nationals don’t qualify for subsidised housing provided by the numerous housing programmes across the country. Emirati women, like their male counterparts, should have the right to marry whomever they wish and not be punished for their decision.
On the one hand, it is not uncommon for Emirati men who study abroad to marry foreign women, decreasing the “pool” of potential spouses for Emirati women. On the other hand, as Emirati women continue to outnumber men in university, many of them will not be in a position to meet suitable husbands with equal levels of education, making them more likely to marry non-nationals.
These different standards for national men and women can no longer continue. In this globalised world, who among us can claim to be 100 per cent pure and real Emirati? I do not dispute the need for us as a young and wealthy country to protect our identity and customs. We must make sure that no marriages of convenience take place for the purpose of taking advantage of the generous government welfare programmes. But we could balance these necessities by granting spouses, both male and female, citizenship after a long period of marriage. Still, we should grant their children equal opportunities immediately, which means providing them with a family book.
When the UAE announced that it had ratified the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child in 1997 it vowed to make education “free for all stages starting from kindergarten to university”. Nothing was said about the law only applying to UAE citizens who hold a special little brown book.
This must end. It’s against human rights, against our religion, customs and traditions. Above all, it’s un-Emirati.
*This article first appeared in The National on Sunday 7th February 2010
Sunday, 8 November 2009
A building to honour Dubai’s past and future
Anchored on the west side of Dubai’s Sheikh Zayed expressway is one of the city’s architectural jewels, a four decade-old building that was constructed to house Dubai Petroleum’s headquarters on the order of the late Sheikh Rashid Bin Saeed Al Maktoum, father of the current ruler of Dubai. Last year this beautiful art-deco inspired structure was threatened by a new developer that was taking over the area to construct high-rise office blocks. Thankfully, global events have intervened to stop this tragic event from occurring, for the time being at least. When it is vacated, the building must be preserved for the future of this country. And what better way to honour the building that has literally fuelled the development of Dubai into a global city than to turn it into a public institution, an art museum for the people?
This four-storey building was designed by none other than Victor Hanna Bishara, possibly the most famous Arab American architect who ever lived. Bishara, who passed away in 1996, was responsible for various projects that literally altered the skyline of Stamford, Connecticut. He was also chosen to help design the world’s greatest entertainment park, Disneyland in California.
Three years ago I learnt with mixed emotions that Dubai had planned to build a Dh50 billion art museum district on the Creek. Rather than building one from scratch and in consideration of the financial climate, Dubai would do well to learn from the experiences of other cities that have renovated older buildings and turned them into national institutions. In London the Tate Modern museum was created from a former oil-fired power station. The grand structure of the Musée d’Orsay in Paris’s left bank housed a train station for decades. Closer to home, Kuwait’s century-old Al Sharqiya School serves today as one of two permanent art museums in the Gulf. Sharjah inaugurated the first Islamic Civilisations Museum in the Gulf last year in a magnificently converted souq.
Dubai need not reinvent the wheel, not with so many beautiful buildings that can be re-energised to serve future generations. I have tried to get this message across in numerous ways but I am hoping that this column will reach those who have the power to order the preservation of this and other historic buildings. We previously lost other fascinating structures in Dubai to “modernisation”. Think of the old Dnata head office in Deira and how its intricate beehive structure is now so tragically hidden in glass. I hope no one gets the brilliant idea of covering the Sheikh Rashid World Trade Centre tower in the same way.
I recently had the pleasure of visiting Dubai Petroleum’s headquarters and realised that its location, size and structure are a perfect setting for an art museum. The main building houses a serenely enclosed courtyard ideal for a permanent collection of Middle Eastern art that Dubai had planned to build. But converting this building wouldn’t cost a fraction of the original plans for an art district.
The smaller east-wing of the building could house works from Emiratis or young artists from across the region. An annexe to the building completed 14 years ago could serve as a site for temporary exhibitions. Finally, the beautiful open spaces that surround the main structure could host a sculpture garden.
We will be sending the right message by preserving this building: that Dubai is as much about honouring the past as it is about seeking a better future for its inhabitants and that culture is part of the city’s fabric. This is our opportunity to convert an older structure that has served the city so well and was first designed by a world class architect. We can approach regional art collectors to adopt rooms in their names to house pieces from their collections on long-term loan or permanently. Video art, photography, paintings, etchings, sculpture and animation can all be accommodated in the Dubai Petroleum building.
I have been inside and I have seen the light, literally. It shines through 15 hexagonal stars on the roof of the main building, flooding the lobby garden. This building is ideal for open spaces and viewing halls as its many offices are separated by easily removable plywood that when cleared will open vast spaces perfect for displaying installations and exhibits.
Dubai can count on numerous investors and bankers in addition to the art collectors, galleries and artists it has served so well in decades past to share their own collections with the museum and with the public.
This need not cost even Dh50 million since the building is more or less ready. Preserving it will be the best way to honour art and culture and to honour history and Sheikh Rashid. The building would be a tribute to Dubai, the beautiful city that we love.
*This article first appeared in The National on Sunday 8th November 2009
This four-storey building was designed by none other than Victor Hanna Bishara, possibly the most famous Arab American architect who ever lived. Bishara, who passed away in 1996, was responsible for various projects that literally altered the skyline of Stamford, Connecticut. He was also chosen to help design the world’s greatest entertainment park, Disneyland in California.
Three years ago I learnt with mixed emotions that Dubai had planned to build a Dh50 billion art museum district on the Creek. Rather than building one from scratch and in consideration of the financial climate, Dubai would do well to learn from the experiences of other cities that have renovated older buildings and turned them into national institutions. In London the Tate Modern museum was created from a former oil-fired power station. The grand structure of the Musée d’Orsay in Paris’s left bank housed a train station for decades. Closer to home, Kuwait’s century-old Al Sharqiya School serves today as one of two permanent art museums in the Gulf. Sharjah inaugurated the first Islamic Civilisations Museum in the Gulf last year in a magnificently converted souq.
Dubai need not reinvent the wheel, not with so many beautiful buildings that can be re-energised to serve future generations. I have tried to get this message across in numerous ways but I am hoping that this column will reach those who have the power to order the preservation of this and other historic buildings. We previously lost other fascinating structures in Dubai to “modernisation”. Think of the old Dnata head office in Deira and how its intricate beehive structure is now so tragically hidden in glass. I hope no one gets the brilliant idea of covering the Sheikh Rashid World Trade Centre tower in the same way.
I recently had the pleasure of visiting Dubai Petroleum’s headquarters and realised that its location, size and structure are a perfect setting for an art museum. The main building houses a serenely enclosed courtyard ideal for a permanent collection of Middle Eastern art that Dubai had planned to build. But converting this building wouldn’t cost a fraction of the original plans for an art district.
The smaller east-wing of the building could house works from Emiratis or young artists from across the region. An annexe to the building completed 14 years ago could serve as a site for temporary exhibitions. Finally, the beautiful open spaces that surround the main structure could host a sculpture garden.
We will be sending the right message by preserving this building: that Dubai is as much about honouring the past as it is about seeking a better future for its inhabitants and that culture is part of the city’s fabric. This is our opportunity to convert an older structure that has served the city so well and was first designed by a world class architect. We can approach regional art collectors to adopt rooms in their names to house pieces from their collections on long-term loan or permanently. Video art, photography, paintings, etchings, sculpture and animation can all be accommodated in the Dubai Petroleum building.
I have been inside and I have seen the light, literally. It shines through 15 hexagonal stars on the roof of the main building, flooding the lobby garden. This building is ideal for open spaces and viewing halls as its many offices are separated by easily removable plywood that when cleared will open vast spaces perfect for displaying installations and exhibits.
Dubai can count on numerous investors and bankers in addition to the art collectors, galleries and artists it has served so well in decades past to share their own collections with the museum and with the public.
This need not cost even Dh50 million since the building is more or less ready. Preserving it will be the best way to honour art and culture and to honour history and Sheikh Rashid. The building would be a tribute to Dubai, the beautiful city that we love.
*This article first appeared in The National on Sunday 8th November 2009
Monday, 2 November 2009
He was our Washington and our Lincoln, rolled into one
I had the honour this year of introducing and interviewing Dr Abdul Khaleq Abdullah on stage to a packed auditorium of around 1,350 UAE nationals. The occasion was a UAE National Identity summit held in the Higher Colleges of Technology, Sharjah Women’s College campus. Emirati students were there from across the HCT network.
Dr Abdul Khaleq, who is a personal hero to me and to thousands of Emiratis, stood at the podium and addressed the students – many seated on the stairs, others standing at the sides and at the back because there were no seats left.
“All of you have a birthday,” he told the students, “but in addition to the birthday on your passport all of you were born on December 2, 1971.” The applause began, and he continued: “All of you have a home, but in addition to the home you live in, your home is the entire land of the UAE.” The crowd cheered. “All of you have a father, your father’s name is written on your ID card, but all of you have a second father. His name is Sheikh Zayed.”
The hall was tense with emotions that I have never experienced, before or since. People started cheering “Bu Khalifa”, our affectionate nickname for the father of our nation. Nothing comes closes to an Emirati’s heart. Nothing compares to Sheikh Zayed.
Many non-Emiratis will not understand what goes through Emirati hearts, minds and veins when Sheikh Zayed’s name is mentioned. He has become a revered figure. Sheikh Zayed, to us, was George Washington and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one. Washington established the United States of America, and Lincoln saved it from its biggest threats. Sheikh Zayed lived long enough to do both.
Before him, the Trucial Coast states were not much more than warring tribes, some more established than others, but all relatively small, weak and vulnerable. So weak were these states that one of them was a victim of aggression and occupation by a neighbour in the small window of 72 hours between the British withdrawal and the union of the then six Emirates.
A couple of weeks ago, someone whom I cannot call an Emirati – even though he is a citizen – wrote on my blog doubting the success of the union. “We’re better off alone,” he said. That was truly un-Emirati of him. I was taken aback, along with a dozen or so others, Emiratis and non-Emiratis. Some responded, trying to talk some sense into him, but to no avail. His feelings seemed to be etched in stone. I realised then that we can’t win the heart of every person. Yet, even to this unrepresentative doubter, Sheikh Zayed was a red line that cannot ever be crossed.
To Emiratis, Sheikh Zayed wasn’t a mere person: he was an icon as well as a phenomenon. He singlehandedly created an identity, “The Emirati”, where one never existed before. No one ever talked about the need to preserve Emirati identity in his lifetime. There was no need, you see, “Emirati identity” was Sheikh Zayed, the definition and the personification of Emirati identity, as well as its guardian.
Sheikh Zayed’s impact changed our vocabulary for ever. Before him, both inhabitants and visitors would use the phrase, “the Arab Emirates are”; after him we say, “the Arab Emirates is”. How many can lay such a claim in the world? He was indeed a phenomenon that will most probably never be recreated. He was the right man at the right time, balancing the needs of several ruling families and tribes, not all of whom were in full agreement all the time. But all it took was one word from Sheikh Zayed and they would all acquiesce.
We continue to learn of his wise decisions years after his passing. Sending non-combatant Emirati troops to Afghanistan to assist the manipulated and war-ravaged people was one of them. The Emirati presence there is an essential element in keeping what peace there is in that country, as our knowledge of Islam and the traditions of the Afghans gives them trusts in us. No other Gulf Arab country stepped up to the plate, and the UAE continues proudly to shoulder that great responsibility alone.
Take the case of Libya and the Emirates; both states have a roughly equal amount of oil, with relatively small populations. In fact, Libya is probably in a far more advantageous position, lying on the Mediterranean next to potentially major trading partners. Compare both states’ literacy and education levels, women’s development and child health care, trade and commerce; in those areas, and virtually every other sense, the UAE outshines Libya. Even our sisterly Kuwait has sadly stagnated in the past few decades, despite its enormous oil wealth.
There is no doubt in my mind, not for one second, that our seven emirates, big and small, wealthy and poor, would not have survived in such a dangerous neighbourhood were they not tied in a union orchestrated by Sheikh Zayed. It is one debt that all Emiratis are proud to carry for the rest of our lives.
But how have we honoured him since his passing, five years ago today? The truth is that in his lifetime, roads and auditorium halls were named after him as well as a university, and today Abu Dhabi is building a museum dedicated to him. But is that enough? “I pity this new generation that is not growing up in the shadow of Sheikh Zayed,” my friend Talal told me recently. He’s right.
But those of us who were fortunate enough to have done so have a part to play in keeping his memory alive. Where is the Sheikh Zayed International Airport? Where is the dedicated day – work day or holiday, it doesn’t matter – that carries his name? Why aren’t school curriculums infused with his lessons? I have no doubt that we could have done much better than this. Comments such as “We’re better off alone” are a result of our complacency towards Bu Khalifa’s legacy, and that is un-Emirati of us.
Five years on, we’re just waking up to the UAE’s loss of the century; and it still hurts.
*This article first appears in The National on Monday, November 2nd 2009
Dr Abdul Khaleq, who is a personal hero to me and to thousands of Emiratis, stood at the podium and addressed the students – many seated on the stairs, others standing at the sides and at the back because there were no seats left.
“All of you have a birthday,” he told the students, “but in addition to the birthday on your passport all of you were born on December 2, 1971.” The applause began, and he continued: “All of you have a home, but in addition to the home you live in, your home is the entire land of the UAE.” The crowd cheered. “All of you have a father, your father’s name is written on your ID card, but all of you have a second father. His name is Sheikh Zayed.”
The hall was tense with emotions that I have never experienced, before or since. People started cheering “Bu Khalifa”, our affectionate nickname for the father of our nation. Nothing comes closes to an Emirati’s heart. Nothing compares to Sheikh Zayed.
Many non-Emiratis will not understand what goes through Emirati hearts, minds and veins when Sheikh Zayed’s name is mentioned. He has become a revered figure. Sheikh Zayed, to us, was George Washington and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one. Washington established the United States of America, and Lincoln saved it from its biggest threats. Sheikh Zayed lived long enough to do both.
Before him, the Trucial Coast states were not much more than warring tribes, some more established than others, but all relatively small, weak and vulnerable. So weak were these states that one of them was a victim of aggression and occupation by a neighbour in the small window of 72 hours between the British withdrawal and the union of the then six Emirates.
A couple of weeks ago, someone whom I cannot call an Emirati – even though he is a citizen – wrote on my blog doubting the success of the union. “We’re better off alone,” he said. That was truly un-Emirati of him. I was taken aback, along with a dozen or so others, Emiratis and non-Emiratis. Some responded, trying to talk some sense into him, but to no avail. His feelings seemed to be etched in stone. I realised then that we can’t win the heart of every person. Yet, even to this unrepresentative doubter, Sheikh Zayed was a red line that cannot ever be crossed.
To Emiratis, Sheikh Zayed wasn’t a mere person: he was an icon as well as a phenomenon. He singlehandedly created an identity, “The Emirati”, where one never existed before. No one ever talked about the need to preserve Emirati identity in his lifetime. There was no need, you see, “Emirati identity” was Sheikh Zayed, the definition and the personification of Emirati identity, as well as its guardian.
Sheikh Zayed’s impact changed our vocabulary for ever. Before him, both inhabitants and visitors would use the phrase, “the Arab Emirates are”; after him we say, “the Arab Emirates is”. How many can lay such a claim in the world? He was indeed a phenomenon that will most probably never be recreated. He was the right man at the right time, balancing the needs of several ruling families and tribes, not all of whom were in full agreement all the time. But all it took was one word from Sheikh Zayed and they would all acquiesce.
We continue to learn of his wise decisions years after his passing. Sending non-combatant Emirati troops to Afghanistan to assist the manipulated and war-ravaged people was one of them. The Emirati presence there is an essential element in keeping what peace there is in that country, as our knowledge of Islam and the traditions of the Afghans gives them trusts in us. No other Gulf Arab country stepped up to the plate, and the UAE continues proudly to shoulder that great responsibility alone.
Take the case of Libya and the Emirates; both states have a roughly equal amount of oil, with relatively small populations. In fact, Libya is probably in a far more advantageous position, lying on the Mediterranean next to potentially major trading partners. Compare both states’ literacy and education levels, women’s development and child health care, trade and commerce; in those areas, and virtually every other sense, the UAE outshines Libya. Even our sisterly Kuwait has sadly stagnated in the past few decades, despite its enormous oil wealth.
There is no doubt in my mind, not for one second, that our seven emirates, big and small, wealthy and poor, would not have survived in such a dangerous neighbourhood were they not tied in a union orchestrated by Sheikh Zayed. It is one debt that all Emiratis are proud to carry for the rest of our lives.
But how have we honoured him since his passing, five years ago today? The truth is that in his lifetime, roads and auditorium halls were named after him as well as a university, and today Abu Dhabi is building a museum dedicated to him. But is that enough? “I pity this new generation that is not growing up in the shadow of Sheikh Zayed,” my friend Talal told me recently. He’s right.
But those of us who were fortunate enough to have done so have a part to play in keeping his memory alive. Where is the Sheikh Zayed International Airport? Where is the dedicated day – work day or holiday, it doesn’t matter – that carries his name? Why aren’t school curriculums infused with his lessons? I have no doubt that we could have done much better than this. Comments such as “We’re better off alone” are a result of our complacency towards Bu Khalifa’s legacy, and that is un-Emirati of us.
Five years on, we’re just waking up to the UAE’s loss of the century; and it still hurts.
*This article first appears in The National on Monday, November 2nd 2009
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