Today's Edition
Dr Yousef Abdullah Al Obaidli*
There is a memory from my years abroad that has never quite left me. During Ramadan, a group of us, students on scholarship, would go to a nearby mosque to break our fast. We gathered there with students from different countries around a simple table, though we could easily have eaten elsewhere.
We were not there out of need. We were there because the place gave us something no ordinary meal could offer: the spiritual atmosphere of Ramadan, the warmth of belonging, and the quiet grace of being gathered at one table. That memory helps explain the deeper social meaning of iftar initiatives in the United Arab Emirates.
They are not merely about providing food; they create moments of happiness, fellowship, and shared reassurance. They speak to the resolve of a nation.
This Ramadan carried a different weight. It was not only a month of blessing; it was also a season of profound reassurance. It affirmed that this country, whatever challenges may surround it, remains a land of safety. At a time when the region was passing through exceptional circumstances, the UAE held steady: calm in spirit, measured in its course, and confident in its path forward.
Against this setting, the Ramadan project at Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque took on a meaning beyond its seasonal form. It stood as a living message that goodness does not cease, and that giving does not retreat.
At the mosque, iftar tables welcomed more than 980,000 fasting guests from different nationalities and backgrounds, the highest number recorded in the mosque’s history. The figure is remarkable, but its meaning extends beyond scale. It showed that security in the UAE is not something temporary or procedural, but a deeply rooted sense of reassurance; and that stability is not a passing condition, but a deliberate choice and a way of life embraced by society.
The continuation of this initiative on such a scale, despite the exceptional circumstances affecting the region, reflected the spirit of a nation that regards reassurance as a responsibility, giving as a principle, and strength as the ability to protect people while moving forward with confidence, even in difficult times.
One moment captured this meaning with particular clarity. His Highness Sheikh Khaled bin Mohamed bin Zayed Al Nahyan, Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi, joined fasting guests for iftar at Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque. The gesture was simple, but its meaning was far-reaching. It affirmed that leadership in the UAE remains close to the people, and reaffirmed that the individual remains at the forefront of national priorities.
The Ramadan project showed that the UAE has always been, and will continue to be, a place of safety, security, tranquillity, and beauty. Thousands of families from different nationalities and backgrounds did not see the exceptional circumstances as a reason to leave. Instead, they found in this country sufficient reassurance to remain, to continue their lives naturally, to pursue their work, and to manage their daily affairs with confidence and calm.
This scene cannot be fully understood without returning to its roots: the vision of the late Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, may his soul rest in peace. He laid its foundation in words that remain alive in the conscience of the nation: “Sustenance is from Allah, wealth belongs to Allah, bounty is from Allah, people are the creation of Allah, the land is Allah’s land, and whoever comes to us is welcome.”
These were not merely generous words. They were a way of life that an entire nation followed. Over time, they became a deeply rooted principle in the policies and daily practices of the state. It is therefore no surprise that giving has become an inherent characteristic of the UAE, and that all who live on this blessed land, whether citizens or residents, feel that they are one family: part of a unified and cohesive fabric.
I felt this most deeply during Qiyam prayers in the courtyard of the mosque. We stood in a single row: worshippers from all parts of the world. Our features differed, our languages differed, our cultures differed; yet one moment of devotion gathered us together.
We stood side by side. Our homelands were different, but our hearts drew together. The UAE brought us together in one supplication, just as it brought us together around one shared meaning.
When the imam raised his voice in prayer — “O Allah, protect the UAE, its leadership, and its people, and have mercy upon the founder of its renaissance” — our voices rose together in one sincere “Amen”. It came from the heart. It was a prayer that transcended words, becoming a collective expression of love and loyalty to a nation that had united us on one path.
As people left the mosque’s courtyards, certain scenes recurred with quiet force: worshippers heading towards the mausoleum of Sheikh Zayed, offering prayers, their hearts filled with gratitude for the Founding Father. Though he is no longer among us, his presence remains in every hand extended in giving, in every smile offered to a guest, in every row formed for prayer, and in every human value renewed on this blessed land.
That scene took me back to what happened during the visit of former United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon. As we walked through the mosque’s spaces and spoke about its message of tolerance and peace, our guest suddenly paused. His attention had been drawn to a bird that had made one of the domes along the outer arcades its home. He expressed his admiration, and the answer he received was simple, yet it captured the philosophy of an entire nation: “This is the UAE, where everyone lives in peace.”
*Dr Yousef Abdullah Al Obaidli is an Emirati researcher.
