Writing notes on basic neurology concepts, hearing the explosions caused by the Qatari air defense system and listening to the teacher’s voice fall silent for a second before saying, “We’re hearing something, but let’s continue.” Today’s life for students across Middle Eastern countries currently under attack by Iran may seem taken from an action movie or a dystopian book. Yet, for Mariia, a first-year Ukrainian student at Carnegie Mellon University’s Doha campus, this is reality. “There are more cats on campus than students,” she says — a statement that might soon become the norm for all foreign institutions with campuses in the Middle East.
As soon as the explosions began in early March, CMU sent an email, saying, “Remain indoors. No specific campus threat,” while Doha faced a severe aerial attack. As one of the richest countries in the Middle East, Qatar likely never considered being under attack; thus, dedicated campus bomb shelters were never built, and mass military evacuation plans were not prioritized. While the university tries to keep students on campus by emphasizing there are no specific threats to life, the contrast with government action has been stark: the U.S. Embassy immediately began evacuating its staff and citizens as soon as the threat emerged, leaving international students at these branch campuses behind to shelter in place.
Although CMU students are provided with free dinners on campus and mental health services, the idea of being a university student constantly at risk of attacks in the 21st century feels like a cruel paradox. Mariia, being Ukrainian, was already used to the sound of sirens in the middle of the night, always feeling at risk during air alerts and praying she would survive. International students came to Qatar for an inspiring experience and to study with the best professionals in a country known not only for its finances, but also for its high standard of living. Going to university in a country close to Iran was never supposed to equal going to war. Being a neighbor to conflict never meant being directly attacked. Mariia applied to Qatar, dreaming of earning a degree in a field she was passionate about; she wanted to escape the war in Ukraine and pursue a high-level education. She tried hard to find better possibilities, and now, simply because of her location, she is under attack all over again.
Meanwhile, the administration provides students with no insight into whether they will switch to online learning, nor do they offer structural safety measures like bomb shelters, which simply do not exist on these campuses; instead, they urge students to stay put. As Mariia notes, the notification system is “good for nothing;” students hear the actual explosions before receiving the delayed message warning them of the threat. The only safety protocols given to students involve the “rule of three walls,” which instructs them to place at least three solid walls between themselves and the outside to survive a potential blast, along with a reminder to minimize risk by staying indoors. While the Qatari Air Defense system has so far prevented missiles from hitting targets — like when it intercepted a strike near the international airport in Doha, which remains a crucial evacuation point — the agonizing knowledge that every system has its flaws makes the students more anxious by the minute.
Tragically accustomed to this reality due to the relentless attacks on her home country, Mariia is not considering evacuation just yet. Currently, students like her are weighing their options: stay in Doha, where they at least have uninterrupted electricity and a facade of safety, or return to a home country like Ukraine, which struggles to provide 8 hours of electricity and heating per day. Choosing the lesser of two evils is the grim reality for this generation. Some joke that they might not even survive until their next birthday, but with the world’s most powerful leaders orchestrating these attacks, nothing is a joke anymore.
While some believe the conflict will blow over quickly, there are students who are self-evacuating, or whose embassies have urged them to leave Qatar, deeming the situation life-threatening. The disparity between embassy responses is glaring. While countries like Kazakhstan are hiring boats to transfer citizens to neighboring Saudi Arabia and organizing free flights, the Ukrainian embassy does not consider the conditions dangerous enough yet. Despite receiving evacuation requests, they are telling their citizens to be patient and wait. Students facing war are now facing discrimination based on their passports. They traveled abroad to study in a safer, more developed country, only to find themselves trapped in a life-or-death situation. When ambassadors claim their citizens are being supported, students feel entirely undervalued, effectively denied evacuation because of their nationality. Amid the possibility of World War III, some governments are still prioritizing budgetary concerns over helping their people escape a blast zone.
Students facing the choice of returning home — whether through their country’s assistance or their own means — are at risk of not completing their degrees, as CMU-Q currently does not offer online accommodations for those who have already fled. Getting used to not knowing whether you will survive the day is simply the way this generation lives. Studying or being safe? There should be a clear priority. However, the borders of morality are eroding, as people are increasingly forced to accept the unacceptable as “normal.”