Gulf cities are often described as a landscape of “enclaves”, characterized by the discontinuous character of urban development and the forms of spatial and social segregation it brought about (Dresch, 2006; Gardner 2010; Ménoret, 2014). Most works focus on the production of residential enclaves, from labor camps to gated communities, showing how they reflect divisions of the urban population along the lines of nationality, ethnicity, gender and social class. In comparison, little attention has been given to the way urban policies also mobilize moral and religious norms as a principle of spatial organization. Through a case-study of alcohol sale and consumption in Abu Dhabi, capital of the United Arab Emirates (UAE), this paper explores how certain places of leisure and consumption are segregated on the basis of such norms. I contend that this form of segregation paradoxically allows the appropriation of these leisure spaces by diverse categories of residents, beyond their intended users – thus turning them in practice into cosmopolitan spaces. In the UAE, alcohol sale is restricted to specific spaces, namely license-holding hotels, restaurants, and a few retail shops. Alcohol consumption is also reserved to certain categories of the population, defined in religious and national terms. Only non-Muslims can obtain a liquor license to legally buy and drink alcohol – with citizens of officially Muslim states having to demonstrate their affiliation to another religion. In addition, bars and pubs must publicly display a set of rules that includes prohibiting the wearing of the national dress on their premises – as well as headscarves. At the same time, in a country where foreign residents represent more than 80% of the population, a great diversity of social norms regarding alcohol consumption coexists in cities like Abu Dhabi and Dubai, and alcohol is a lucrative business. Based on an ethnography of the Arab youths of Abu Dhabi, and on interviews conducted with bars and hotel managers, this paper explores how the territories of alcohol draw a moral geography of the Emirati capital which is both overlapping with and challenging other forms of segregation. In parallel, I show how the very existence of these distinct territories, alongside with the diversity of Abu Dhabi’s urban society, favor the transgression of moral norms relative to alcohol consumption. Appropriating the spaces of “others” in the city can thus become a way, for young adults, to bypass dominant norms and experiment with other lifestyles while evading social sanctions.

Scholarly and non-scholarly discourse on the UAE frequently highlights the absence of a pathway to official citizenship for most migrants, framing social in/exclusion along the citizen/noncitizen divide. This binary, however, falls short as a framework from which to study experiences of linguistic diversity on the ground, and in particular, to examine the relationship between language ideologies, policies, and everyday use. Although standard Arabic is the official language, the UAE’s demographic makeup combined with the exclusive nature of citizenship suppresses expectations of linguistic assimilation among its inhabitants. This lack of a dominant ideology of monolingualism leads, in some cases strategically and in others unintentionally, to the proliferation of ideologies of linguistic pragmatism and fluidity. This project explores language attitudes and accounts of everyday interactions in the UAE, with particular focus on ethnographic work with long-term, Arabic-speaking residents of Dubai and Abu Dhabi. Ethnolinguistic interviews examine individual speakers' perceptions of the norms that guide their language use and the ways in which they draw on available linguistic resources to opt in or out of group membership at different times. I avoid bounded representations of specific national communities in favor of considering locally embedded ways of speaking that transcend national, ethnic, and linguistic divides. The research contributes to work on sociolinguistic diversity and its intersections with social organization (Arnaut et al 2015; Piller 2016; Rampton 2017), as well on noncitizen inclusion and belonging in the UAE.

Binaries permeate discussions on Dubai, particularly regarding its urban spaces: binaries that represent some parts of the city as “tourist” spaces as opposed to those built for inhabitants; binaries of “Western” spaces versus “Emirati” ones; or even binaries of “low-income” and “wealthy” places. Indeed, academic research on Dubai often presents it as an ultimately segregated place (Elsheshtawy 2019; Kathiravelu 2016; Khalaf 2006). Of course, exclusions exist in a variety of ways and I will highlight the marginalization different groups experience, ranging from certain low-income individuals who are excluded from parts of “new Dubai,” to some Emiratis who feel uncomfortable in the more "Western" parts of the city. However, I also aim to show how contradictory and messy these experiences are: for instance, how some Emiratis use these “Western” spaces to get away from their own communities and gain a degree of anonymity, and how low-income users vary in their cultural capital and therefore their experiences of the city. Through an ethnography of Emiratis and long-term residents of Dubai, this research aims to provide a more nuanced account of cosmopolitanism, diversity, belonging and exclusion in this city.

At the heart of the continued struggle to respond to and prevent gender-based violence in Muslim-majority countries and communities is an often ignored problem: personal accountability and humble reflexivity of scholars on the detrimental impact of knowledge production – beyond the mandated reflexivity statement and IRB approvals. “Damage-centered research” (Tuck 2009, 409) and “academic sects that engage is self-affirming research” (Lake 2011, 465) continue to perpetuate epistemic violence against certain communities being studied and written about. In the context of the Arab Gulf states, contemporary literature in the English Language (1) is devoid of nuances, gendered perspectives, complex local realities, and is predominantly produced by white men (the “experts”). This reflects the gendered structuring of knowledge and masculine/patriarchal ways of thinking (al-Mughni 2001; Al-Rasheed 2013; Sonbol 2014; Al-Ali 2019); (2) Westerncentrism, with shallow and racist depictions of Gulf communities, overshadows discussions on the region, homogenizing the narrative and stigmatizing its people (Al Shehabi 2019; El Saadi 2014); and (3) data and studies on gender-based violence are scarce making this global and multifaceted problem entangled in two simplistic discourses: reductionist liberal views of saving the victimized Arab Gulf woman and patriarchal Islamic dogma of protecting the piety of Arab Gulf woman. Based on research in Kuwait, and utilizing a decolonial feminist lens, I, a Saudi American woman, highlight how a wide range of perpetrators at institutional, legal, and societal levels meshed with global and regional forces of racism, sexism, elitism, and classism, contribute to the persistence of violence–contrary to popular, superficial narratives. I draw attention to how scholarship and policies aiming at addressing gender-based violence require us to complicate and nuance the analysis and pay attention to “the connections, entanglements and multiple forms of power configurations that impinge on people’s lives” (Al-Ali 2019, 28). * The title of this paper is inspired by the following article (with permission from the author): Al-Ali, Nadje. 2019. “Feminist Dilemmas: How to Talk about Gender-Based Violence in Relation to the Middle East?” Feminist Review, no. 122: 16–31.

Scholarship on Arabian Gulf states has primarily focused on noncitizen migrant exclusion and economic exploitation. The kafala (sponsorship) system as a legal means of entering these countries remains central to this literature. For these scholars, the contractually temporary nature of noncitizens’ migrations separates them from so-called privileged Gulf citizens. Research about the United Arab Emirates, where noncitizens greatly outnumber citizens (88 percent to 12 percent), presents the citizen-noncitizen divide as one of extremes of inclusion and exclusion. However, social scientists have recently begun to complicate perspectives that solely focus on noncitizen exclusion and economic exploitation. Drawing on Brubaker’s (1996, 2004, 2015) position that all nations are inclusive as well as exclusive, some scholars of the Gulf have demonstrated that migrants in the UAE are officially excluded from national belonging but are nevertheless included in ways outside of official citizenship. My long-term ethnographic research on US-citizen Muslims in Sharjah contributes to the growing literature about noncitizen inclusion and belonging in the UAE by illustrating how they contribute to national security. US-citizen Muslims stress that when they migrated to the UAE in the early 1990s, they were primarily searching for safety. From the 1970s to the 1990s, they developed relationships with Sharjah royalty through their membership in a global proselytizing movement called Tablighi Jama’at. Royal family members sponsored US-citizen Muslims, especially converts to Islam, to live in the UAE so that they could perform da’wa (invitation to practice Islam). By making da’wa, converts help to deter cultural threats to Emirati national identity. Upholding Emirati identity, for which Islam is essential, is particularly important in Sharjah. This emirate has won numerous accolades, which have branded it the “cultural capital” of the Gulf. Thus, these noncitizen converts’ role in preserving Emirati identity contributes to upholding Sharjah’s cultural identity, which is especially important for the emirate’s image. This research demonstrates one of the many ordinary interactions by which the noncitizen-citizen divide has been blurred in an effort towards seemingly coherent cultural production.