Iran Missile Strike in Dubai: Three Chinese Nationals Tell Their Story 48 Hours Later

Author | Lin Wanwan

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

This is no ordinary airport. Atlanta tops the list in total passenger traffic, but relies on domestic flights within the U.S. The true king of international flights is Dubai, a super hub connecting Europe, Asia, and Africa, with 1,200 flights taking off and landing every day. Two hours later, Abu Dhabi Airport was also bombed. The two major airports in the UAE were completely shut down overnight.

Exports have been cut off.

At 4:00 p.m. on February 28, a Chinese developer named Wu returned home from downtown, and heard three loud bangs outside his window. He immediately knew they were missiles. He had heard this sound before while working in Lebanon and Iraq.

The thunderous sound became more and more intense, echoing through the night. He saw a missile being intercepted and exploding in the Marina direction.

"I had only seen this in movies before," he said. "This time, the earth showed me a live-action movie."

The Dubai landmark, Palm Island Hotel, was bombed, the seven-star sailboat hotel caught fire, and interception flames flickered over the top of the world's tallest building, the Burj Khalifa. These names usually appear in travel ads, but now they're in war news.

On that morning, the U.S. and Israel joined forces to strike Iran. Iran retaliated within hours, launching missiles towards Israel and the entire Gulf region. Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia were all hit. Iran made it very clear that anyone helping the U.S. would be targeted.

As of the time of publication, Iran has launched at least six waves of attacks, with 167 missiles and over five hundred drones.

Changpeng Zhao, CEO of Binance, currently in the UAE, mentioned in an exclusive interview with us, "Rationally speaking, because of the presence of missile defense systems, overall security is fundamentally guaranteed, but those who lack information retrieval capabilities may be more panicked."

In addition, she also mentioned, "Bombing and missile attacks would result in mass casualties. However, the current interception fragments and drone attacks are causing more psychological pressure on the public, and the economic damage is also greater."

The Chinese population in Dubai is growing rapidly, with an estimated 300,000 Chinese residents by 2025. In Longyuan City, Dubai's dragon city, a Chinese goods city built 15 kilometers from the old city in the desert, was once touted as the "largest Chinese trading center outside mainland China." Huawei, Xiaomi, OPPO also have their Middle East headquarters here, and Chinese internet companies see it as a springboard for going global.

Chinese people from various industries such as Web3, trade, tourism, real estate, and finance have taken root in this desert city.

For the past decade, they have been accustomed to the political stability of the UAE, accustomed to zero income tax, accustomed to feeling "the Middle East's chaos has nothing to do with me."

Until the missiles came.

An individual of Chinese descent wrote on social media, "I originally came to Dubai to avoid taxes, but now I'm hiding in a bomb shelter to avoid bombs."

We interviewed four individuals in Dubai to discuss the real situation with them.

Even after being bombed, you can still order takeout

Wu works in Dubai on developer tools, 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 in Jebel Ali.

On the afternoon of February 28, at 4 p.m., he had just finished eating near the Burj Khalifa, had just returned home, and heard three loud bangs outside his window.

Without hesitation, he had heard this sound before while participating in developer events in Lebanon and Iraq.

But those places don't have missile defense systems; once a bomb drops, that's it, you just need to avoid the bombing area. Dubai is different; it has THAAD. The missile might be intercepted and detonated in the air, or it might be hit off course, causing it to land randomly, making it easy to hit civilian areas.

The thunderous sounds grew more frequent, mixed with sirens and ambulances. Almost everyone on the street was calling their families to ensure everyone's safety, moving hastily.

In the middle of the night, his phone blared a government alert. Beep beep beep beep beep, piercing, non-stop for three to four minutes. Then, the building's alarms went off too. He and his wife headed to the underground parking garage.

The garage was already full of people. Some were holding children, some were stuffing mineral water and biscuits into the trunk. The engines were still running, ready to go at any moment. In the worst-case scenario, they would drive away.

The next morning at 8 a.m., a loud bang woke his wife up. She nudged him: "It was particularly close just now." He looked out the window, and the glass was trembling. The glass of the building across was also shaking.

But the government didn't issue an alert today; he guessed they didn't want to create panic or perhaps believed that civilian areas wouldn't be bombed.

However, most of the city continued to operate normally, without the panic reported in the media.

Wu went downstairs to the supermarket. The shelves were full, with milk and bread available, and no one was rushing to grab items. He ordered from McDonald's, and it was delivered in half an hour; the delivery guy even joked with him upon delivery.

But the situation was different at the Chinese supermarket. He tried to place an order at 9:30 p.m. last night, but the system said it was too busy. He tried again at 10 p.m., but still couldn't place the order. Today, the goods hadn't been delivered. The official explanation was that too many people were buying, and they couldn't keep up with the demand.

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

Currently evacuating in roughly three directions:

One, someone drove overnight to Oman, the only neighboring country not hit by Iran, but the road to Oman is now almost impassable.

Two, someone evacuated to Al Ain, in the middle of the desert, with a high probability that missiles will not hit the desert.

Three, there are still people moving to Sharjah, where there are no military facilities. The border crossing is estimated to be already blocked.

Wu plans to wait and see. "Iran cannot have an unlimited number of missiles, so the situation is expected to be more manageable in the future." Yesterday, officials said they intercepted 137 missiles out of 132, and today there were another dozen explosions.

The escape route will also be chosen from these three directions. Water and food have already been placed in the car, with an emergency kit carried at all times.

He has a friend who works in sales at the airport. When Terminal 3 was hit by a missile, he immediately sent a message: Smoking, evacuating. The Chinese have a peer-to-peer network that is faster than official channels and more accurate than the media. Information about which building was hit, which intersection was closed, and which supermarket still has supplies is all shared in WeChat groups.

Chinese friends living in the city center are starting to move out, looking for shorter buildings because the Burj Khalifa is just too tall and conspicuous. The Sail Hotel and the Palm Jumeirah have also been hit, leading to suspicions that Iran seems to be interested in landmarks.

He said that if Iran continues to cause chaos like this, he may consider leaving. "Trust is hard to establish. Once it's broken, you can't go back."

Now all that can be done is to wait. Wait to see if the US will stop, if Iran will finish, if the sounds are getting closer or farther away.

Want to stroll over to the bombed site

Mason lives in Dubai's Silicon Valley, near a US military base, which he has never taken seriously.

On February 28, while having lunch, a missile struck a hotel on Dubai's Palm Jumeirah landmark. After finishing his meal, he wanted to drive over to the site to take a look, but the navigation showed that the road to the bombed site was completely congested, so he had to give up.

Mason didn't feel scared, "perhaps because it's too far from me."

Just 10 minutes before our conversation, he heard another explosion, this time right above his head. The missile was intercepted and exploded in the air, making a huge sound. He looked out the window and saw people still strolling downstairs.

Just last night, several of his phones rang one after another. The government's alert pierced through the night, advising to avoid going outside as much as possible and to keep the windows slightly open. He heard a tearing sound from the sky, unable to tell if it was a fighter jet or a missile, but it flew past, not exploding nearby. Then he went to sleep.

Waking up in the morning and refreshing the news, Mason learned that Terminal 3 was hit by a drone at 1 am. Mason had planned to fly to Milan to watch the Winter Paralympics, but now the airport is shut down indefinitely. Videos of the airport are circulating all over Twitter, and after taking a quick look, he found them to be a mix of truth and falsehood.

Some people have started evacuating. Among the Dubai locals Mason was with, someone who works as a tour guide mentioned that VIP clients are leaving, but the border to Oman is completely congested. Normally, getting a visa involves waiting in long lines, and now it's out of the question. Someone asked Mason if he wanted to leave as well. He did some quick calculations in his head: over 1000 kilometers to Saudi Arabia, a few hundred kilometers to Oman. "Going to Oman now might be even more dangerous. Who knows what we might encounter along the way."

Mason decided to stay put.

"It's all exaggerated," he said about those online videos. "The sailboat hotel is a landmark, so if it exploded, someone would film it, and then it spreads like wildfire."

Mason believes that modern missiles are precision-guided, targeting military bases, and they wouldn't be randomly bombing everywhere. Unless they were intercepted, missile fragments might fall elsewhere.

He has a friend who works in real estate, and they just had a conversation. Several clients who were planning to come to Dubai to view properties can no longer make it. "Holidays will definitely be affected," but he thinks it's only temporary. The real issue is how people outside perceive the situation. If a plane comes flying here and a missile flies as well, what then? And if they come here but can't fly back, what will they do?

"If you plan to come here, you need to be prepared in your mind."

Mason is still thinking about going to see the sailboat hotel that was bombed. He wanted to see the scene for himself. The security guard advised against going out, leaving him somewhat regretful.

Alert That Pierces Through Do Not Disturb Mode

Olivia lives in a densely populated residential area, 8 kilometers away from the coastline. That coastline faces Iran, and landmarks like the sailboat hotel, Palm Jumeirah, and Dubai Marina are all on that side.

On February 28, in the afternoon, she was taking a nap when she woke up to a bunch of messages on WeChat asking if she was safe, which made her realize something was wrong. A few hours later, she heard an explosion outside her window. Her windows were reinforced with original double-layered glass plus an additional double layer she added herself, totaling four layers of glass, yet the sound still came through very loudly.

She had a medical aesthetic appointment scheduled but canceled it directly. However, people's lives downstairs were not greatly affected. By the poolside, some were still sunbathing because it was the weekend.

Three more explosions happened consecutively at night. Fighter jets were patrolling the skies before bedtime, rumbling past repeatedly. She fell asleep around midnight, only to be woken up by the entire family because an alert pierced through the Do Not Disturb mode. Three people at home with four to five phones each, all ringing simultaneously with the alert.

A group member went to Oman and got stuck in traffic. Her friend is the founder of a company in New York. He sent the employee on a business trip to Oman overnight and then flew them back to the US on a private jet.

Originally planned to return to China in March or April, the airport is now closed indefinitely. If unable to leave, the plan is to detour to neighboring countries and then fly out.

Scary videos are circulating online, but she doesn't think it's that exaggerated.

Olivia believes the situation will improve. As Ayatollah Khamenei has already passed away, the remaining people are fighting to the end. "Once they run out of ammunition, this will all be over."

When the call dropped, she mentioned not sleeping well last night and planned to take a nap.

Wait for the Wind to Stop

Dubai has no four seasons. Just hot and hotter.

However, these days, 300,000 Chinese people are feeling a different kind of temperature. Uncertainty.

Wu saw a neighbor holding a child in the garage, Mason was thinking about going to the Sail Hotel to see the ruins, Olivia set her phone to Do Not Disturb but the alarms still came through. He Yi was right—those with information retrieval ability are not too flustered, but that underlying noise persists. The rumbling outside the window, the alarms on the phone, the constantly updating messages in the group. Which building was bombed, which road is blocked, which supermarket still has supplies.

We are all refreshing, all waiting.

Waiting for the US to back down, waiting for Iran to finish, waiting for the airport to reopen, waiting for that "everything is back to normal" notification.

Some people left overnight. Some decided to stay. Some are sunbathing by the pool, some are putting their passports and cash in their emergency bags. Everyone's choice is neither right nor wrong, just a gamble.

Most Chinese people who come to Dubai are not here for adventure. On the contrary, it's for certainty. Tax certainty, regulatory certainty, business certainty. In thirty years, this city has established an order in the desert.

The Palm Jumeirah, the Sail Hotel, the Burj Khalifa are all monuments to this order. People can overcome the desert, can create prosperity in desolation.

But some things are beyond human control.

When two countries break down in negotiations, the missiles start flying. It doesn't matter if you picked a side, if you're a good person, how much tax you've paid over the years, how many people you've employed, or how many buildings you've constructed. You just happen to be here.

This is the world of 2026. Flights can be grounded, borders can be sealed, carefully planned lives can be disrupted in an afternoon. Not because you did something wrong, just because on the chessboard of geopolitics, no one asked the opinion of the chess pieces.

Wu said that if the situation stabilizes, he might stay. "Perhaps it will be even more peaceful in the future."

Maybe this is the calmness that only those who have experienced it possess. After this round, the discussions that need to be had will be had, and the pauses that need to be taken will be taken. That's how the history of the Middle East is written — with back-and-forth actions, but life goes on.

Mason also wanted to go see the bombed site. Perhaps just to confirm those images, confirm that he really lived through all of this, confirm that the city is still there, and he is still here.

Another sound was heard outside the window.

It's hard to tell if it's a missile or interception, far or near.

It doesn't matter. The sound is still in the distance, so the days can still go on. McDonald's is still delivering, the supermarket still has supplies, if the alarm sounds, go to the garage; if not, just continue sleeping.

Three hundred thousand Chinese people, just waiting like this.

Waiting for the wind to stop.

Interview Acknowledgment: Vinko, Beca, Sleepy, Tomas