At the heart of a vast construction site in the centre of Dubai is a cone-shaped building that is rising at the rate of one floor a week. When it opens in two years, the Burj Dubai — the flagship among a dozen lavish building projects in this boomtown emirate — will be the world’s tallest skyscraper and home to a Giorgio Armani hotel. Lawns and trimmed hedges surround the site, along with seductive advertisements for apartments that promise ”a tribute to fine living”.
A few kilometres out in the desert is the Dubai that the tourists never see: the labour camps that house the hundreds of thousands of migrant workers who build these skyscrapers. There are no lawns, hedges or dreamy adverts. Labourers, most from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, trapped into working here by crippling debts, sleep eight to a room and work long shifts for paltry wages and with no job security. They spend hours on bus trips to the sites each day, frequently go for months without pay, and are left penniless when contractors go bankrupt.
For the first time, years of accumulated frustration and resentment have now boiled over into a series of strikes and demonstrations. They began in September when 700 workers blocked a major road, complaining about poor salaries and bad conditions. That alone was remarkable in a country where public dissent is forbidden, and was a display of the mounting anger and despair among the migrant labourers.
At least eight other strikes and demonstrations followed at building sites across the emirate, culminating last week in a rare and violent protest at Burj Dubai. In one evening rampage, 2 500 workers downed tools and attacked security staff, broke into offices and smashed computers and files. They ran through the building complex damaging more than a dozen cars and construction equipment, and caused several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of damage. The next day, workers at the site and other labourers working on the international airport went out briefly on strike.
The protests are growing more organised, and for the first time are challenging the image of Dubai as a peaceful and prosperous hub of investment in the Middle East. Similar protests have sprung up among migrant workers in Qatar, Oman and Kuwait.
Quick money
”I had big dreams when I came to Dubai,” said Umprakash (30) an Indian from Rajasthan, who has worked as a labourer here for a decade. ”But we’re in a miserable condition.” Late one afternoon, he and a group of other workers in overalls sat on the concrete floor outside their small accommodation block in the al-Quoz industrial area of the city.
Although a university graduate, he struggled to find work in India and was lured to Dubai by promises of quick money. Like most others he was forced by a recruitment agency in India to buy his visa — a $2 200 cost that, legally, his employer should have covered. He raised the money by selling some land and taking out the only loan he could, with an interest rate of 36%. It took him the first five years just to pay it back.
Now he earns about $208 a month, the average for a worker here. He sends about half back to his wife and two children, whom he sees for just a few weeks once every two years. He could have earned the same in India. Like most of the workers, he promises himself he will leave soon, just as soon as he’s made a little more. ”I’ve forgotten all of my studies. Now I just use a hand shovel. This is no life for educated people,” he said. ”I wish I’d never heard of Dubai.”
Some are pushed into severe depression by their circumstances. Last year 84 workers committed suicide. The number who die on site in accidents is thought to be even higher, though there are no official figures.
”Once they reach here their families at home start demanding that they send back money. Everyone believes Dubai is full of money. These men are like a candle burning for somebody else,” said KV Shamsudheen, an Indian businessman who runs Pravasi Bandhu, one of a handful of support groups.
Shamsudheen counsels workers over the phone, trying to talk them out of their despair. ”We are dealing with just the tip of the iceberg,” he said.
Technically, the labour laws in Dubai offer some protection to the workers: a day’s shift should be only eight hours with overtime limited to two hours and paid at a higher rate; there should be medical care, proper housing, 30 days’ annual holiday and employees should not be made to work during the searing midday heat in the summer. ”The workers agree the salaries in their own countries before they come out here,” said Lieutenant Colonel Rashid Bakhit al-Jumairi, an interior ministry official who works on labour issues. ”Everything here is going smoothly and according to the labour laws.”
But much of the labour law favours employers, and there are only a few dozen inspectors to monitor up to 800 000 construction workers. Few companies keep within the rules, even though the government has begun to blacklist and publish the names of some of those who do not. Workers who complain fear losing their jobs.
Abdullah al-Mamun (28) came from Bangladesh two years ago expecting to work as a skilled electrician, but was given a job as an unskilled labourer, for which the wages are lower. He earns $150 a month, far less than he was promised before he left his home. He is also struggling to pay off the heavy debt he incurred buying his visa. His company gives him no holiday entitlement and it will take him three months to save the money for an air ticket home.
”The agents who hired us are exploiting us,” he said. ”It is completely unlawful. I made several complaints to our general manager, but nobody listens, nothing happens. I don’t want to think about the state we are in.”
Workers can complain as individuals, but trade unions and workers’ associations are banned, and the country has still not signed important conventions of the International Labour Organisation. This is symptom of a tradeoff across the United Arab Emirates: there may be an economic boom, but there are precious few political freedoms. Everyone is encouraged to profit from heady economic growth, but no one is allowed to question the political leadership or the huge economic disparities. There are no elections and no opposition parties; freedom of speech is strictly controlled.
Buying allegiance
”There is no accountability and nobody questions the system because there are no political rights,” said Mohammed al-Roken, a human rights lawyer and the former head of the Emirates’ Jurists Association. ”The elites are buying the allegiance of their citizens.”
Because of his criticisms, Roken has been banned indefinitely from writing in local newspapers, appearing on local television or continuing his job as a university law professor. His public speeches are frequently cancelled at the last minute. He and others have lobbied for two years to set up the country’s first human rights organisation, but have been refused permission.
Roken said the government was under mounting pressure to tackle its labour crisis. ”There must be a change, otherwise this might explode in the face of society,” he said.
The UAE is now under pressure from the US in negotiations for a free-trade agreement, with Washington pushing for improvements to workers’ negotiating rights. ”Without pressure from inside and outside the country, nothing will change,” Roken said. – Guardian Unlimited Â