Guernica / Sin City

Emiratis like to say that thirty years ago, their gleaming metropolis was scarcely larger than a fishing village. The UAE began as a loose federation of oil-rich British protectorates—a sparsely-populated, mostly Bedouin land controlled by a few wealthy families. Today’s image of the UAE as a Middle Eastern capital of finance and culture is due largely to the foresight of Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, president of the UAE from 1971 to 2004, who saw that the country’s long-term success depended on spending oil wealth to diversify the economy.

As of 2007, the country still exported about 2.7 million barrels of oil each day, the world’s fourth-biggest exporter. But efforts to wean the country from its once oil-based economy have been successful. Lured by “Free Trade Zones,” multinationals like Bayer, Coca-Cola, and Microsoft have dropped roots in and around Dubai. Dubai’s beaches, over the top attractions, and endless shopping anchored a huge tourism industry.

But Dubai’s blazing economic figures don’t account for the emirate’s non-citizens—about 80 percent of the total population—some of whom rarely, if ever, see a paycheck. A staggering 90 percent of the country’s overall workforce is foreign, and foreigners account for up to 98 percent of domestic laborers—housemaids, chauffeurs, nannies, etc. And that’s just among the documented.

But because of Dubai’s dependence on foreign workers and investment, its new economy is more vulnerable—at least in the short term—to the global recession. Corruption scandals implicated some of Dubai’s biggest players. In 2009, former executives at Nakheel—a subsidiary of Dubai World Group, and the developer of the three palm-shaped islands, with uncertain futures, and the map of the world—were jailed. Construction projects around Dubai stopped. The cranes froze. Premium condos sat empty.

It was a wildly speculative market, dominated by foreigners. Second- and third-home owners, enticed by the absence of property taxes, found in Dubai a homesteaders free-for-all. They planted their flags on artificial beachfront property for a song—for vacation homes or a quick flip.