With oil trading at more than $100 a barrel, Abu Dhabi holds a jackpot-winning ticket in the lottery of life. The emirate sits on reserves of nearly 100 billion barrels, about 9 per cent of the world’s proven supply. At today’s pumped-up price, its subterranean treasure is worth at least $10 trillion. That’s $10,000,000,000,000.Abu Dhabi finds almost nothing unaffordable. Were Croesus reborn tomorrow, he would discover that the Al Nahyan royal family could match his outlay. In recent years, hospitals, universities, hotels, museums, racetracks, golf courses, marinas, airports and a five-star airline have sprung up ex nihilo. When its naughty neighbour Dubai, which has very little oil, ran out of money, Abu Dhabi sent over $20 billion to fill the hole. In the 1960s, a British agent reported that Abu Dhabi was ‘just barasti huts, a broken down market... and a few buildings put up by the oil company.’ Today, it’s the Richie Rich of an energy-hungry planet. But here’s the really scary number. If Abu Dhabi could pump out all its oil in one go, and sell it without the price collapsing — in other words, pile up $10 trillion — that would still be dwarfed by the United States’s national debt. America owes more than $14 trillion, and its interest meter is running like Usain Bolt on speed. While President Obama is busy borrowing, printing and spending money his country doesn’t have, powerful forces in the Middle East are working out how to exploit the loss of diplomatic and military influence by Washington that is bound to follow a diminution of US economic clout.
The purpose of my trip to Abu Dhabi is to cover a media conference and broadcast a one-hour show for Sky News. It all looks promising — a rooftop location with a dazzling backdrop — until we go on air. Then, kapow! One after another, lines to mission control go down, until I’m left with neither autocue nor sound in my earpiece. Links to studios elsewhere also crash — we lose Egypt’s finance minister — and I’m sitting next to an empty chair where a guest should be. At this point, a presenter has limited options: soil his pants, feign a heart attack or remember that it’s only telly, no one’s died, and busk it. My task isn’t made easier by a brief restoration of the connection to Osterley, just in time to hear Tom, my director, screaming: ‘This is a f****** shambles.’ At the end, I am stretchered off. It’s possible that I’ll make a partial recovery, but only after care from a tender nurse and a flagon of strong drink.
As the biggest of the United Arab Emirates, with more natural resources than the rest put together, Abu Dhabi is an exemplar of Spike Milligan’s aphorism that money can’t buy friends, but it does get you a better class of enemy. Last week, UAE army personnel and police officers, bankrolled by Abu Dhabi’s petro-dollars, moved into Bahrain alongside tanks and troops from Saudi Arabia. This infuriated Tehran, where a Shia-led regime despises the western sympathies of Sunni rulers in Bahrain, Saudi and the UAE. Iran has many shortcomings, but as an enemy it is top drawer: irascible, menacing and, as one senior British expatriate in the Gulf describes it, ‘fully tooled up’ with a nuclear programme. What’s more, it has more people serving in its armed forces (about 550,000) than Abu Dhabi has citizens.
Much of the Arab world may be in flames, but an eerie calm pervades this city. Even among expatriates there is an assumption that this corner of the Middle East will be immune. Just 300 miles away lies the island of Bahrain, where Saudi troops were drafted in to suppress Shia protests. Not that the press in the solidly Sunni Abu Dhabi reflected much of this. The press here is not free, but neither is it Pravda. The real story usually gets through, though not always in the headlines. There’s not much point in censorship here when 24-hour television news channels such as Sky, CNN and BBC World are widely available.
The National newspaper carries an advertisement claiming: ‘This is your City.’ It’s the sort of slogan one might expect from a Labour council in London, preaching the virtues of inclusivity and minority awareness schemes. In Abu Dhabi, the goal is more prosaic: selling football kit. For those who’ve not been paying attention, Manchester City is owned by Sheikh Mansour of this parish. His club is sponsored by Etihad Airways, the UAE’s flag-carrier. To help spread the word, an official Manchester City store in a waterside mall is inviting shoppers to buy a replica shirt ‘for a chance to win a return trip to watch your heroes play’. Heroes? One wonders how many Emiratis could pick out Nigel de Jong in an identity parade or name the team’s coach. There’s little evidence, I’m glad to report, of dishdashas being swapped for sky-blue football tops, though I did spot an immigrant labourer wearing a Manchester United shirt and another with a Chelsea cap. Let’s hope their work permits are in good order.
Etihad claims, with some justification, to provide the finest service of any scheduled airline. But its charming staff are ill-prepared to quell the riot caused by a psychotic child who runs amok on the flight from Heathrow. Attempts to restrain the little monster during take-off are met with screeches and convulsions. He climbs over seats and spits food on the floor. His parents resort to bribing him with sweets, producing a sugar rush that propels him into yet more antisocial behaviour. Is it me? Irrespective of airline or class of ticket, I seem always to cop an infant from hell. If others are similarly afflicted, please let me know.