‘Russia Outside Russia’: For Elite, Dubai Becomes a Wartime Harbor
In
the exclusive neighborhoods and palatial shopping
malls of the United Arab Emirates’ biggest city, wealthy Russians can build a
new life without having to cut ties to their home country.
DUBAI, United Arab Emirates
— On an artificial island on the edge of the Persian Gulf, Dima Tutkov feels safe.
There are none of the
anti-Russian attitudes that he hears about in Europe. He has noticed no
potholes or homelessness, unlike what he saw in Los Angeles. And even as his ad
agency turns big profits back in Russia, he does not have to worry about being
drafted to fight in Ukraine.
“Dubai is much more free — in every way,” he said, sporting an intricately
torn designer T-shirt at a cafe he just opened in the city, where his children
are now in a British school. “We are independent of Russia,” he said. “This is
very important.”
A year into a historic
onslaught of economic sanctions against Russia over its invasion of Ukraine,
Russia’s rich are still rich. And in Dubai, the United Arab Emirates’ biggest
city, they have found their wartime harbor.
A year into a historic
onslaught of economic sanctions against Russia over its invasion of Ukraine,
Russia’s rich are still rich. And in Dubai, the United Arab Emirates’ biggest
city, they have found their wartime harbor.
Among the city’s waterfront
walkways, palatial shopping malls and suburban cul-de-sacs, Russian is becoming
a lingua franca. Oligarchs mingle in exclusive resorts. Restaurateurs from
Moscow and St. Petersburg race to open there. Entrepreneurs like Mr. Tutkov are running their Russian businesses from Dubai, and
opening up new ones.
Dubai’s new Russian diaspora
spans a spectrum that includes multibillionaires who have been punished with
sanctions and middle-class tech workers who fled President Vladimir V. Putin’s
draft. But to some extent, they share the same reasons for being in the
Emirates: It has maintained direct flights to Russia, staked out neutral ground
on the war in Ukraine, and, they say, displays none of the hostility toward
Russians that they perceive in Europe.
“Why do business somewhere
that they’re not friendly to you?” says Tamara Bigaeva,
who recently opened a two-story outpost of a Russian beauty clinic that is
already welcoming longtime clients. “In Europe, they
clearly don’t want to see us.”
Indeed, a major draw of
Dubai is that it is apolitical, according to interviews with Russians who have
settled there. Unlike in Western Europe, there are no Ukrainian flags displayed
in public and no rallies of solidarity. The war itself feels far away. Anyone
in Dubai harboring anti-Russian sentiments would most
likely keep them to themselves, anyway; protests in the Emirates’ authoritarian
monarchy are effectively illegal, and freedom of assembly is severely limited.
The presence of wealthy
Russians in Dubai at a time when they have been largely cut off from the West shows
how Mr. Putin has been able to maintain the social contract that is key to his
domestic support: In exchange for loyalty, those close to power can amass
enormous riches.
In fact, one political
scientist, Ekaterina Schulmann, said Mr. Putin has
been signaling to businessmen that he is prepared to
remove still more obstacles to enrichment. A recent law, for example, frees
lawmakers from having to make public their income and property.
“Yes, we’ve cut you off from
the First World, but things won’t get any worse for you,” Ms. Schulmann said, describing how she sees Mr. Putin’s revised
contract with the elite. “First of all, there are many other countries that are
friendly to us. Second, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to get even richer,
and we will no longer prosecute you for corruption.”
Publicly, Mr. Putin has been
calling on jet-setting Russian elites to refocus their lives and their
investments inside Russia. But the rich who have relocated to Dubai have other
ideas.
“For all of us, this is an
island of safety for a certain period of time,” said Anatoly Kamenskikh, a Russian real estate salesman who brags that
his team sold $300 million worth of property in Dubai last year — the vast
majority to Russian citizens. “Everyone is trying to park their assets
somewhere.”
Mr. Kamenskikh’s
real estate developer, Sobha Realty, celebrated
Dubai’s Russian-driven real estate boom by setting up a miniature St. Basil’s
Cathedral and artificial snow outside the sales office. A section of the
artificial island called the Palm Jumeirah is lined with Russian restaurants
and nightclubs, one of which was packed on a recent Wednesday night as guests
ordered $1,200 bottles of Dom Pérignon Champagne that dancing waiters delivered
with lighted sparklers.
When one drunken guest
yelled out, “Glory to Ukraine!” the bouncers swiftly saw him out.
“You get the feeling that
they have their head in the sand,” Dmytro Kotelenets,
a Ukrainian entertainment producer who moved to Dubai with his family, said of
the Russians around him. “They either don’t want to notice what’s happening
between Russia and Ukraine, or they think that nothing has changed.”
In his state-of-the-nation
speech last month, Mr. Putin called on Russia’s wealthy to “be with your
Motherland” and to bring their financial assets home, rather than to view
Russia “as simply a source of income” from abroad.
In fact, many of Russia’s
rich are simply shifting their lives to the United Arab Emirates, which — like
the rest of the Middle East — has refused to join the West’s sanctions against
Moscow.
“I’m in Dubai, I’m
chilling,” go the lyrics to the current No. 1 song in Russia, according to
Apple Music. “Yeah, I’m rich, and I don’t hide it.”
The Emirates has a population of
about 10 million, of whom only about a million are Emirati citizens. The rest
are expatriates, including millions of Indians and Pakistanis, and smaller numbers
of Europeans and Americans.
A New York Times analysis of flight
records last spring found that the United Arab Emirates became
the top destination for private flights out of Russia in the weeks after the
invasion, which began Feb. 24, 2022. Since then, by all accounts, the country’s
allure has only grown.
Russian government
statistics show that Russians took 1.2 million trips to the Emirates in 2022,
compared with one million in the pre-pandemic year of 2019. Many of those
visitors put down roots: Russians were the leading nonresident
buyers of Dubai real estate in 2022 by nationality, according to Betterhomes, a Dubai brokerage.
First, there are the tycoons.
Andrey Melnichenko, a Russian coal and fertilizer
billionaire, moved to the United Arab Emirates last year after sanctions forced
him to leave his longtime home in Switzerland. Last
month, in the hushed lobby of an exclusive resort, another penalized Russian
businessman said he was in town for a birthday party.
Russian officials and their
families also visit, though they try to avoid calling attention to their
presence, and for good reason: In the northwest Russian region of Vologda, the
pro-Kremlin United Russia party expelled two local lawmakers after social media
posts placed them in Dubai. One of them, Russian journalists studying their
posts reported,
was vacationing there with Ksenia Shoigu, the daughter of the Russian defense minister.
The elite cross paths at
Angel Cakes, an Instagram-friendly cafe that Mr. Tutkov, the advertising entrepreneur, opened on an
artificial island called Bluewaters in the shadow of
the world’s tallest Ferris wheel. One frequent guest of the cafe, the former
president of a major Russian company, quipped, “Dubai is becoming a part of
Russia outside Russia.”
Mr. Tutkov
dismissed as an “illusion” the idea that sanctions had wrecked the Russian
economy. His advertising agency, he said, was profiting as companies race to
fill the vacuum left by Western corporations that pulled out of Russia. His
clients include Haier, a Chinese home appliance maker trying to break into a
market that had been dominated by more established brands.
Sanctions on the financial
system also proved no hindrance. Last summer, the ruble soared to historic highs against
the dollar. Mr. Tutkov said he took advantage of the
exchange rate by using Russian banks that had not been placed under sanction to
move some of his ad agency’s profits to Dubai.
“We were exchanging into
dollars and transferring them here,” he said. “In dollars, we were getting
colossal excess profits, you understand? And everyone was doing this.”
Mr. Tutkov
and his family had planned to spend the summer in Moscow. But after Mr. Putin’s
draft last fall, he is no longer sure he will go back.
“These are colossal risks,”
said Mr. Tutkov, 39. “What if you can’t leave or they
take you into the army or something?”
The diaspora also includes
smaller earners, among them art-world types, technology workers and employees
of Western companies that relocated their Moscow offices to the city.
Dmitri Balakirev, who worked
in tech in the Ural Mountains, left Russia because he opposed the war, he said,
and went to Dubai because he had visited it previously thanks to direct flights
from his city.
Mr. Balakirev decided to
stay and start a real estate agency. He judged that direct flights to Russia
were likely to remain, allowing him to stay in touch with his relatives. And he
saw it as a place where he could make a living.
Emirati officials say that
their banks follow all American sanctions-related rules. Indeed, many Russian
émigrés say that among the hardest parts about moving to Dubai is opening a
bank account, attributing monthslong waits to the banks’ exacting compliance
requirements.
“There are many Russians who
are not sanctioned and are interested in safer havens,” Anwar Gargash, a diplomatic adviser to the Emirates’ president, told
reporters last year.
Among those who found a
haven in Dubai last year is the Russian pop star Daria Zoteyeva,
the singer of Russia’s current No. 1 hit. She now lives in an unfinished luxury
housing development in the desert. At night, a light show flashes across the
Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest skyscraper, in the distance.
To make music, Ms. Zoteyeva said in an interview on a roadside bench, “you
need to be in a good mood.” Dubai, she goes on, is a “sunny place” where the
war “doesn’t affect you.” She refuses to take a position on the war, which she
calls “this whole situation.”
“It’s to avoid letting go of
my audience, and to make money,” she said, explaining her silence. “Because
it’s a lot of money. It’s a lot of money.”