Iranian missiles hit Dubai: Three Chinese people recount these 48 hours

Author: Lin Wanwan , Rhythm

Dubai Airport, the world's busiest international airport, has been bombed.

This is no ordinary airport. Atlanta has the highest total passenger volume, but that relies mainly on domestic flights within the United States. The true king of international flights is Dubai, a super hub connecting Europe, Asia, and Africa, with 1,200 flights taking off and landing daily. Two hours later, Abu Dhabi Airport also exploded. The UAE's two major airports were completely rendered useless overnight.

The exit is blocked.

At 4 PM on February 28th, Wu, a Chinese developer, had just returned home from downtown when he heard three loud bangs outside his window. He immediately knew it was missiles. He had heard the same sound before while working on events in Lebanon and Iraq.

The booming sounds grew more and more frequent, continuing until midnight. He saw a missile intercepted in the direction of Marina and explode in mid-air.

"I'd only ever seen that in movies before," he said. "This time, Earth gave me a real-life blockbuster."

The Palm Jumeirah, Dubai's iconic landmark, was bombed; the seven-star Burj Al Arab caught fire; and flames flashed overhead atop the Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building. These names, usually seen in tourism advertisements, are now appearing in war news.

That morning, the United States and Israel jointly attacked Iran. Within hours, Iran retaliated, launching missiles at Israel and the entire Gulf. Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia all responded. Iran made it very clear that those aiding the United States were the targets of the attack.

As of press time, Iran has launched at least six waves of attacks, involving 167 missiles and more than 500 drones.

Binance CEO He Yi, currently in the UAE, gave us an exclusive interview, saying, "Rationally speaking, because there is an air defense system, the overall security is basically guaranteed, but people who lack information retrieval capabilities may be more panicked."

In addition, she mentioned, "Bombing and missile strikes would result in mass casualties. But currently, interceptor debris and drone attacks cause more psychological stress for the public and also have a greater impact on the economy."

The Chinese population in Dubai is growing very rapidly, with approximately 300,000 permanent residents by 2025. Dubai's Dragon City, a Chinese goods market built in the desert 15 kilometers from the old city, was once hailed as "the largest Chinese trade center outside mainland China." Huawei, Xiaomi, and OPPO have also established their Middle East headquarters here, with Chinese internet companies using it as a bridgehead for their overseas expansion.

Chinese people from all walks of life—from Web3 developers and traders to tourism professionals, real estate agents, and financiers—have settled down in this desert city.

Over the past decade, they have become accustomed to the political stability of the UAE, to zero income tax, and to the feeling that "the chaos in the Middle East has nothing to do with me."

Until the missiles arrived.

A Chinese person wrote on their WeChat Moments, "I came to Dubai to avoid taxes, and now I'm hiding in an air-raid shelter to avoid bombs."

We interviewed four people living in Dubai and talked to them about the current situation.

Even though it was bombed, I can still order takeout.

Wu works in Dubai on developer tools and lives near Marina, not far from the entrance to Palm Jumeirah. This location is usually a selling point, but now it's a problem: it's close to the US military base of Jabel Ali.

At 4 p.m. on February 28, he had just finished eating near the Burj Khalifa and returned home when he heard three loud bangs outside his window.

He wasn't surprised; he had heard that voice before when he was doing developer events in Lebanon and Iraq.

But those areas don't have missile defense systems, so if they get bombed, they just need to avoid the bombing zone. Dubai is different; it has THAAD. Missiles might be intercepted and detonated in mid-air, or they might be deflected, resulting in random landings and a higher chance of landing in civilian areas.

The rumbling grew louder, mixed with the sounds of sirens and ambulances. Most people on the street were on the phone, calling their families to let them know they were safe, hurrying along.

In the middle of the night, his phone rang with a government alarm. It beeped incessantly for three or four minutes. Then the building alarm went off. He and his wife headed towards the underground parking garage.

The garage was packed. Some people were holding children, others were stuffing bottled water and biscuits into the trunk. The engine was still running; they could leave at any moment. The worst-case scenario was driving away.

The next morning at 8 a.m., a loud bang woke his wife. She nudged him awake: "It was really close just now." He looked out the window; the glass was shaking. The windows of the building across the street were also shaking.

But the government didn't sound the alarm today, which he guessed was because they didn't want to create panic, or they thought the civilian areas wouldn't be bombed.

However, most of the city continued to function normally, and there was no panic as reported by the outside world.

Wu went downstairs to the supermarket. The shelves were full, with milk and bread, and no one was fighting over them. He ordered McDonald's, which arrived in half an hour. The delivery guy even joked with him when he delivered it.

But the situation is different at Chinese supermarkets. I placed an order at 9:30 last night, but the system said it was too busy. I tried again at 10 pm, but still couldn't place the order. The goods haven't been delivered today. The official reason is that there are too many people rushing to buy, and they can't keep up with the demand.

Wu's British neighbor left early in the morning, dragging a suitcase and walking quickly.

There are currently three main directions for evacuation:

First, some people drove overnight to Oman, the only neighboring country that was not attacked by Iran, but the road to Oman is now almost impassable due to traffic congestion.

Second, if someone evacuates Al-Ain, in the middle of the desert, the missiles are unlikely to hit the desert.

Third, some people have moved to Sharjah, where there are no military facilities. The border crossings are estimated to be completely blocked.

Wu plans to wait and see. "Iran cannot have an unlimited number of missiles, so the situation is expected to be more controllable later." Yesterday, the official statement said that 132 out of 137 missiles were intercepted, and today there were more than a dozen more explosions.

There are three possible escape routes. Water and food have been placed in the car, and an emergency wallet is carried with you.

He had a friend who worked in sales at the airport. When Terminal 3 was bombed, the friend immediately sent a message: "Smoke! Evacuation!" The peer-to-peer network among Chinese people was faster and more accurate than official channels and the media. Information about who had been bombed, which intersection was blocked, and which supermarket still had stock was all relayed through WeChat groups.

Chinese friends living in the city center are starting to move out, looking for shorter buildings. The Burj Khalifa is just too tall and too conspicuous. The Burj Al Arab and Palm Jumeirah were both attacked; it seems Iran has an interest in landmarks.

He said if Iran continues to be in such chaos, he might consider leaving. "Trust is hard to build. Once it's broken, there's no going back."

Now we can only wait. Wait for the US to stop, wait for the war with Iran to end, wait for the sounds of conflict to grow closer or fade into the distance.

I want to stroll over and see the bombing site.

Mason lives in Dubai's Silicon Valley, where there is supposedly a US military base nearby, but he never paid much attention to it.

On the afternoon of February 28, he was having dinner when a hotel on Dubai's iconic Palm Jumeirah was hit by a missile. After finishing his meal, he wanted to drive to the scene, but the navigation showed that the roads leading to the bombed site were completely blocked, so he had to give up.

Mason wasn't scared. "Maybe it's because it's too far away from me."

Ten minutes before speaking with me, he heard another explosion, this time right overhead. The missile had been intercepted and exploded in mid-air with a tremendous sound. He looked out the window and saw people strolling around downstairs.

Last night, his several cell phones rang in succession. Government sirens pierced the night, the gist of which was: avoid going out as much as possible, and keep a distance from windows. He heard a tearing sound from the sky, unable to tell if it was a fighter jet or a missile, but it flew past and didn't explode nearby. Then he went to sleep.

He woke up this morning and checked the news, only to find out that Terminal 3 of the airport had been hit by a drone at 1 a.m. Mason had planned to fly to Milan to watch the Winter Paralympics, but now the airport is closed indefinitely. Videos of the airport are circulating everywhere on Twitter; he glanced at them, and they were a mix of truth and falsehood.

Some people have begun to evacuate. Among Mason's local Dubai community, some tour guides mentioned that their VIP clients wanted to leave, but the Omani border was already blocked. Normally, visa applications involve long queues, but now it's even more difficult. Someone asked him if he should also evacuate, and he did the math: going to Saudi Arabia is over 1000 kilometers, while going to Oman is only a few hundred kilometers. "Going to Oman now might be more dangerous; who knows what I'll encounter along the way."

Mason decided to stay put.

"They're all exaggerated," he said, referring to the videos online. "The Burj Al Arab is a landmark; if it were bombed, people would film it, and it would spread like wildfire."

Mason believes that modern missiles are precision-guided, targeting bases directly rather than randomly detonating. Unless intercepted, debris might fall elsewhere.

He has a friend who works as a real estate agent, and they just talked. Several clients who were originally planning to come to Dubai to look at properties are now unable to come. "The holiday definitely has an impact," he said, but he thinks it's short-term. The real problem is what people outside are thinking. What if a missile is launched when planes fly over? What if they can't fly back after arriving?

"You need to be prepared before you come here."

Mason was still thinking about going to the bombed-out Burj Al Arab to see the scene. The security guard advised against leaving, which he was a little disappointed about.

Alarms that penetrate Do Not Disturb mode

Olivia lives in a densely populated residential area, 8 kilometers from the coastline. That coastline faces Iran, and the Burj Al Arab, Palm Jumeirah, and Dubai Marina are all on that side.

On the afternoon of February 28th, she was taking a nap when she woke up to find a bunch of people on WeChat asking if she was safe, and she realized something was wrong. A few hours later, she heard a loud bang outside her window. Her windows had been modified; they were originally double-paned, but she had added another double-pane, making it four panes of glass, yet the sound was still very deafening and penetrated into her room.

She had an appointment for a cosmetic procedure, but canceled it. However, people's lives weren't affected too much; downstairs by the pool, people were still sunbathing because it was the weekend.

Three bombings followed that night. Before bed, fighter jets patrolled the skies, their booming sounds echoing repeatedly. She fell asleep at midnight when her phone vibrated, waking the whole family—it was on Do Not Disturb mode, but the alarm bypassed it. With three people in the house and four or five phones, the alarms went off simultaneously.

A member of the group went to Oman and the roads were completely blocked. She has a friend who is the founder of a company in New York. He sent his employees who were on business trips to Oman overnight and then used a private jet to bring them back to the United States.

I originally planned to return to China in March or April, but now the airport is closed indefinitely. If I can't get through, I'll have to fly through a neighboring country.

The videos circulating online were frightening, but she didn't think they were that exaggerated.

Olivia believes the situation will improve. Khamenei is dead, and the remaining people are fighting to the end. "Once they run out of ammunition, this will be over."

When the call ended, she said she hadn't slept well all night and was going to take a nap.

Wait for the wind to stop

Dubai has no seasons. Only heat, and even more heat.

But in the past two days, 300,000 Chinese people have felt a different kind of warmth. Uncertainty.

Wu saw his neighbor holding a child in the garage; Mason was thinking about going to see the ruins of the Burj Al Arab; Olivia had put it on Do Not Disturb mode, but the alarm still pierced through. He Yi was right; people with information retrieval skills weren't too panicked, but that underlying unease was always there. The rumbling outside the window, the alarm on the phone, the constantly updated messages in the group chat. Which building was bombed, which road was blocked, which supermarket still had stock.

We're all refreshing the page, we're all waiting.

Wait for the US to stop, wait for Iran to finish its attack, wait for the airports to reopen, wait for that "everything is normal" notification.

Some fled overnight. Some decided to stay. Some sunbathed by the pool, while others stuffed their passports and cash into their emergency kits. There was no right or wrong in any of their choices; they were simply gambling on probability.

Most Chinese people come to Dubai not for adventure, but quite the opposite – for certainty. Certainty in taxes, certainty in regulations, certainty in business. This city has built an order in the desert over thirty years.

Palm Jumeirah, Burj Al Arab, Burj Khalifa—these are all monuments to this order. Humans can conquer the desert and create prosperity from barrenness.

But some things are beyond human control.

The two countries broke down in negotiations, and then missiles flew over. It has nothing to do with whether you've taken sides, whether you're a good person, how much tax you've paid, how many people you've employed, or how many buildings you've built over the years. You just happen to be here.

This is the world in 2026. Flights can be grounded, borders can be closed, and meticulously planned lives can be disrupted in an afternoon. Not because you did anything wrong, but simply because on the chessboard of great power rivalry, no one has consulted the pawns.

Wu said he might stay if the situation stabilizes. "Maybe things will be even more peaceful in the future."

This is a kind of calm that only those who have experienced it can understand. After this round of fighting, those who need to talk will talk, and those who need to stop will stop. This is how the history of the Middle East is written: fighting and stopping, life goes on.

Mason still wants to see the bombing site. Perhaps he just wants to confirm those images, to confirm that he really experienced it, to confirm that the city is still there, and that he is still there.

There was another sound outside the window.

It's impossible to tell whether it's a missile or an interceptor, or whether it's far or near.

It's okay. As long as the alarm is still in the distance, life goes on. McDonald's is still delivering, the supermarket still has stock, and if the alarm goes off, I go to the garage; if it doesn't, I go back to sleep.

Three hundred thousand Chinese people are just waiting like this.

Wait for the wind to stop.