Several weeks prior, a TikTok clip by Jessica Ashley Herman, a South African digital influencer and lifestyle blogger, gained viral recognition. The footage was shot in the typical day-in-the-life structure, a trend on the platform where the creator takes the audience through a normal day, perhaps as someone living in a trendy Austin district, or an employee at a prominent tech firm.
The uniqueness of Herman’s video lay not in its innovative style but in its location: the purposely developed town of Neom, situated in Saudi Arabia, part of an enormous city megaproject, initiated by Prince Mohammed bin Salman in 2017. In the video, Herman showed what she portrayed as a customary evening in her life as an expatriate dweller in Neom, accompanying her to routine places like the post office with her young children, and a stark cafeteria where she dines with her husband and other expats.
The setting has an eerie cleanliness and isolation, presenting a feeling of being trapped in an unhospitable and soulless location, bridging the gap between a massive business park and a low-security penitentiary. The environment aligns with the tales of JG Ballard, specifically his books High-Rise and Super-Cannes, which depict lives of secluded bourgeois affluence in chillingly bland surroundings.
Unlike Ballard’s meticulously fabricated suburban nightmares, Neom’s inherent violence lurks beneath the surface, woven into its sandy foundation. In Ballard’s books, such sites form the backdrop to societal deterioration. For example, in ‘High Rise’, the luxury apartment dwellers start feeling ennui due to their lavish lives, hence involving themselves in a complex array of destructive behaviour and violence.
James Ballard, known for his surrealist style, unwaveringly aimed to expose the repressed elements within society. His latter book, “Millennium People,” posits that secure suburbs represent the climax of history, almost indestructible, save for cataclysmic events like plagues, floods, or nuclear warfare.
Neom, a luxury city midway through construction in a desert, aimed for expatriates and sprung from a business-oriented dictatorship, is unquestionably aligned with Ballard’s dystopian visions. Yet, unlike his meticulously crafted suburban dystopias, Neom’s inherent violence, engraved within its sandy groundwork, is predominantly invisible.
Neom forms part of ‘Saudi Vision 2030’, an ambitious initiative intended to reshape Saudi Arabia’s oil-reliant economy into one more robust and varied, turning the nation into an investment powerhouse and a central nodal point connecting Asia, Europe, and the Middle East.
Despite its global ambitions, Saudi Arabia’s record of human rights is notoriously appalling worldwide. The regime is notorious for mass executions of dissidents, torturing, abducting journalists, and a migrant-reliant economy prone to exploitation and trafficking.
Sunday’s broadcast of “Kingdom Uncovered: Inside Saudi Arabia” on ITV uncovered new information about ‘Vision 2030’. In the years following its introduction by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS) in 2016, it is reported that 21,000 foreign labourers, from countries such as Nepal, Bangladesh, and India, have died during the ongoing building work.
The Hindustan Times, an Indian English-language newspaper, suggested that around 100,000 workers have vanished during the construction of Neom.
In the documentary, “Noura,” an alias used by a Saudi reporter, secretly interviewed the migrants working on Neom. Bracingly long 16-hour working days, sleeping only for a few hours a night, not being paid for up to 10 months were among the shocking working conditions revealed. One driver, who was part of the construction project, identified sleep deprivation as a reason for recurring road accidents.
As a worker depicts, their existence and work circumstances mirror that of “entrapment and slavery”. Though their identities remain concealed for their protection, this not only emphasises their dehumanisation but also makes them appear as faceless, replaceable cogs in the machine to the Saudi ruling class and its global business counterparts.
Further troubling is the disregard toward past inhabitants of the development area. A report recently issued by ALQST, an advocacy organisation for human rights in Saudi Arabia, contradicted governmental claims; the Red Sea coast, now transitioning into Neom, was far from uninhabited. In fact, it was home for centuries to the Huwaitat tribe, who were displaced without compensation for the endeavour.
Brutal repercussions awaited those who resisted the forceful eviction. ALQST reports state that fifteen peaceful objectors have been handed prison sentences spanning 15 to 50 years, with a minimum of five of them even met with death sentences for voicing against the unfairness.
Coupled with the probable hosting of the World Cup in 2034 by Saudi Arabia, Neom is a crucial piece of a grand scheme to reimagine the country as an ultramodern epicentre of post-fossil fuel capitalism. In line with Saudi’s promotional content, the futuristic megacity is said to be entirely powered by renewable resources.
Niall Gibbons, former CEO of Tourism Ireland and Neom’s newly appointed tourism director, recently expressed in an interview, the vision statement of Neom as a “land of the future where the brightest thoughts and exceptional talents are given the freedom to realise groundbreaking ideas and transcend boundaries in a realm driven by imagination”.
Similar to much corporate jargon, the statement is empty, while paradoxically conveying unintentional, almost imperceptible messages. As per the promotional text, Neom is “more than a city; it’s a vision of what the future could be”. However, it sketches a potential future quite contrary to what Niall Gibbons or his patron Crown Prince MBS might have meant.
Neom embodies an unparalleled, meticulously sculpted luxury hub, highlighting the ultimate phase of evolution in Ballard’s historical timeline: a projection of a future where capitalism, unfettered by democratic constraints and human rights, attains its purest form.
Should the future manifest as Neom, it seems to be a horrendous prospect. May rest elude its architects and promoters, in their present existence or beyond.
In the previous May, amongst the rampant atrocities of Israel’s hostility against Palestine, Binyamin Netanyahu’s office divulged a manifesto labelled “Gaza 2035”, portraying an anticipated post-conflict destiny for Gaza. The blueprint projected ultra-modern city silhouettes generated through artificial intelligence, fields adorned with solar energy panels, and bullet trains. An ambitious vision is presented that of Gaza transitioning into a “gigantic free trade nucleus”, with one of many contributors to its construction being the Saudi Arabian government.
A facet of this notional colonist utopian delusion that garners singular attention involves the inclusion of a rapid transit rail system connected to Neom, touted as the paramount beacon indicating an attainable futuristic dimension.
In perceiving the future to echo Neom it manifests an appalling image. May tranquility remain elusive to its founders and its advocates, in their current life or the afterlife.