A quiet war over information is unfolding in the United Arab Emirates, even as drones and missiles strike some of the country’s most critical infrastructure. Investigations by Bellingcat suggest that the official narrative presented by authorities often diverges sharply from what can be independently verified through video footage, satellite imagery and eyewitness accounts. At stake is not only the reality of the attacks themselves, but the image of the UAE as a secure global hub for finance, tourism and stability.
The tensions escalated after coordinated US and Israeli strikes on Iran on February 28 triggered retaliation across the region. Iranian drones targeted US-aligned states, including the UAE, marking a significant escalation in regional conflict. Within hours, Emirati authorities moved to tightly control the flow of information. The country’s attorney general declared it illegal to share images or videos of strikes, warning that such material could harm national security. Citizens were encouraged to report those posting footage online, and arrests quickly followed.
According to official statements, at least 35 people have been detained for sharing what authorities described as misleading or fabricated content. Police in Abu Dhabi separately reported over 100 arrests linked to the filming or dissemination of material related to the attacks. The message was clear: the state would define reality, and deviations from that narrative would be treated as criminal acts.
Yet Bellingcat’s analysis indicates that this official version of events does not always align with observable evidence. In multiple high-profile cases, authorities attributed damage to debris from intercepted drones, while videos and satellite data suggest direct strikes may have occurred. These discrepancies have raised questions about whether the UAE is downplaying the scale and success of Iranian attacks.
One of the most significant incidents took place at the port of Fujairah, a vital energy hub handling approximately 1.7 million barrels of oil per day. A video filmed from a nearby vessel appears to show a drone approaching the port without interception before disappearing behind storage tanks, followed by a large explosion. Officials later stated that the damage was caused by debris from a successful interception. However, satellite imagery analysed by Bellingcat shows extensive fire damage over several days, with at least three storage tanks destroyed. The scale of destruction suggests an impact far more severe than the official account implied.
A similar pattern emerged at Jebel Ali Port in Dubai, one of the busiest maritime facilities in the region. Authorities again attributed fires to debris from intercepted drones. Yet satellite images from the same day show fires at two separate locations within the port, including a facility linked to fuel handling operations and a structure in a military area used by the US Navy. Previous reporting by The New York Times identified an Iranian strike as the likely cause, adding further weight to the discrepancies highlighted by Bellingcat.
In central Dubai, damage to the iconic Burj Al Arab hotel was officially described as a “limited” fire caused by shrapnel from an intercepted drone. However, video footage shows flames rising approximately 30 metres, spanning multiple floors of the building. Analysts cited by Bellingcat suggested the damage was more consistent with a direct impact than falling debris, raising further doubts about the official narrative.
Perhaps more telling are incidents that were barely acknowledged at all. On February 28, a drone struck the Fairmont hotel on Palm Jumeirah, according to footage verified by Bellingcat. Authorities referred only to an unspecified “incident” and urged the public not to share images. Several individuals who documented the strike were later detained under cybercrime laws, including foreign nationals. According to legal advocacy group Detained in Dubai, even sending images privately could result in arrest, with authorities reportedly seeking access to personal devices during investigations.
At Dubai International Airport, one of the world’s busiest aviation hubs, operations were temporarily suspended on March 7. Officials cited unspecified “safety protocols,” but footage verified by Bellingcat appears to show a drone strike near a terminal building. Again, there was no explicit acknowledgment of an attack in official communications.
The pattern extends to residential areas. On March 1, a drone struck a high-rise apartment in Dubai’s Warda complex. Videos captured from inside and outside the building show a direct hit, with no visible interception. Yet official statements issued the same day referred broadly to air defence activity and successful interceptions, without acknowledging the strike itself.
As these incidents unfolded, authorities intensified efforts to control the narrative online. The Dubai Media Office, which has more than two million followers on social media, warned users against sharing “unverified material,” while Dubai Police threatened prison sentences and heavy fines for those posting content that contradicted official accounts. The chilling effect has been significant. Fewer videos have emerged in recent weeks, suggesting that fear of arrest is deterring documentation.
At the same time, a parallel messaging campaign has taken shape. Pro-government influencers have circulated near-identical videos emphasising the UAE’s safety and strong leadership. Some clips appear to have been posted within seconds of each other, indicating possible coordination. Analysts and activists say such content reinforces the official narrative while marginalising dissenting voices.
Critics argue that these measures go beyond legitimate security concerns. Jonathan Dagher of Reporters Without Borders told Bellingcat that the UAE is using the conflict to expand restrictions on independent reporting. While governments may seek to manage sensitive information during wartime, he said, broad bans on documenting events risk undermining the public’s right to know what is happening around them.
Officials maintain that the restrictions are necessary. UAE representatives have emphasised the importance of relying on credible sources during a period of heightened tension, arguing that misinformation could create panic or jeopardise safety. They have urged residents and journalists alike to follow official guidelines, framing compliance as a matter of public protection.
But the gap between official statements and independently verified evidence continues to fuel scepticism. According to UAE media, at least 12 people have been killed and nearly 200 injured since the start of the conflict. Yet in several cases where deaths were attributed to debris from interceptions, Bellingcat was unable to find corroborating evidence.
The result is a fragmented picture of a war that is both visible and obscured. On the ground, explosions, fires and damage suggest a sustained campaign of aerial attacks. In the public sphere, however, those events are filtered through a tightly controlled narrative that emphasises interception and resilience. Between the two lies a contested space where truth itself has become a battleground.
As the conflict continues, the question is no longer just how effective the UAE’s air defences are, but how far a state can go in shaping the story of war within its borders. For now, much of that story remains hidden, not because it cannot be seen, but because seeing it has been made a crime.
