Tell me you are Qatar funded without telling me you are Qatar funded 😂
Silly Dilly strikes again
MY EXPERIENCE OF (MALE) EMIRATI INTERNATIONAL STUDENTS IN THE UK
Over the course of 12 years, I’ve met and spoken to many Emirati students studying in the UK, easily in the dozens.
These encounters took place in my hometown of Bedford, where some had studied at the local college or university, as well as during my university years (2006–2009) at UEA Norwich, and while delivering lectures for student Islamic Societies (ISocs) across at least 30 universities (2015-2025). I also briefly befriended a few I met at gyms.
So, here it goes:
- Most studied aeronautical engineering or other engineering disciplines.
- Several told me they had been instructed by their government not to discuss Islam or politics, or to engage in religious activities on campus.
- Eid gatherings, iftar events, and informal meet-ups with non-Emirati Muslims were strongly discouraged. Jumuah and Eid prayers were the only exception.
- Keeping long beards with trimmed moustaches, and regularly praying the five daily obligatory prayers in mosques, were also discouraged.
- Many were deeply paranoid and believed they were being monitored. They were particularly distrustful of Saudi and Egyptian international students.
- Most appeared to deliberately isolate themselves from other Muslims, both on campus and within the communities they lived in.
- Quite a few were into partying, drinking alcohol and drug use. I know at least three Emirati students who privately identified as atheists.
- Others appeared to be studying abroad primarily to avoid or delay mandatory national military service back home.
- All were given very generous university allowances, between £4,000 and £7,000 per month, from the Emirati government, and understandably did not want to do anything that might risk losing that support.
- None I met were arrogant, disrespectful or rude. All except three proudly identified as Muslim. However, none were remotely involved in any (non-political) communal Muslim events or activities. This stood in stark contrast to Saudi, Egyptian, Qatari, Malaysian and Pakistani international students, who at the very least attended Eid and iftar gatherings organised by the Islamic society or their local mosque.
To be clear, this is my personal experience, but it has been corroborated by university chaplains, imams, people who studied and trained alongside Emirati students, as well as by family and friends who encountered them in the taxi, food and dining trade.
In short, it is not the “Muslim Brotherhood” the UAE fears. What it fears is its youth interacting with practising, educated British/Western Muslims who take their faith seriously, and who often possess a firmer grounding in basic Islamic fundamentals and global Muslim affairs than most secularised Emirati youth.
In my experience, Emirati students were unlike any other Arab/Muslim international students: reclusive, socially withdrawn, and largely disconnected from wider Muslim campus or local community life. Some even dressed and styled themselves like Black American rappers, which I found strange.
The very few I did speak to about religion and politics were highly critical not only of the Muslim Brotherhood, but also of Saudi Arabia and Salafism, and Israel and Palestine were simply a no-go discussion.
Whatever the case, Britain will not lose any sleep over Emirati students not coming to the UK; there are enough GCC students and Gulf money in British universities.
Lastly, there’s also a growing perception among Muslims across Europe and the West that the UAE is basically a Zionist subordinate of Israel with a perennialist reformist agenda, and that some of their students could actually be security services assets sent to infiltrate and gather intelligence on Western Muslim communities and Arab international students.