Why future cities in the Middle East won’t be built like before
From Doha’s Grand Cruise Terminal to Oman’s Sohar New City, Hassell’s Ashley Munday explains why the region’s next phase of urban development is shifting toward adaptable, community-first civic ecosystems that evolve over time
23 March, 2026
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Across the Middle East, a quiet but profound shift is reshaping the way cities are designed. Where once skyline-defining landmarks dominated the narrative, a new model of civic architecture is emerging—one that prioritises integration, adaptability, and long-term cultural value.
For Ashley Munday, head of design at Hassell, this transition reflects a deeper maturity in how the region approaches urban development. He explains that public architecture is no longer about standing out, but about fitting in—serving as an enabler of city life rather than a symbol of ambition.
“There now seems more of an emphasis on ‘city making’ projects – defined by humility and a deep sensitivity to the surrounding urban fabric,” he says. “Rather than striving to be iconic, buildings are increasingly conceived as civic enablers: thoughtful, context-led interventions that strengthen and serve the life of the city.”
From iconic landmarks to integrated civic ecosystems
This evolution is particularly visible as cities like Doha and Abu Dhabi invest heavily in cultural infrastructure, from the recent debut of Art Basel Qatar to the highly anticipated Guggenheim Abu Dhabi. But for Munday, architecture’s role in this ecosystem goes beyond housing culture—it must actively enable it.
“In many ways creating the ‘backdrop’ which gives potential for cultural events to inhabit cities or neighbourhoods is a better way to become a ‘cultural catalyst’ than just creating many new singular cultural buildings,” he says.
He argues that informal, grassroots cultural infrastructure—from public spaces to educational institutions—plays an equally critical role in building sustainable creative economies. “Spaces and urban fabric that support the ‘grass roots’ and informal cultural economy are almost more important as it creates a sound economic and societal base for more formal cultural institutions to establish themselves.”
Designing for adaptability, not permanence
This thinking is embodied in one of Hassell’s most prominent regional projects: the Grand Cruise Terminal in Doha. Originally aligned with the FIFA World Cup, the project was deliberately designed with a dual identity—functioning as both infrastructure and civic space.
“The building was conceived as cultural and civic space first, cruise terminal second,” Munday explains. “The grand terminal function is sporadic and even temporary, but the hard infrastructure of the building has a more permanent and enduring public purpose.”
Rather than a conventional transport facility, the terminal is structured as a series of exhibition halls and terraces that can be adapted throughout the year. Its defining architectural feature—the arched cloister—serves as a long-term civic framework that can outlast the building’s original use.
“This means the ‘civic cloister’ could remain as memory or structure to mark a place or landscape and the independent building on the inside could completely change in function or character,” he says. “It may not even need to be a building and could contain a public marketplace or a cloistered garden in the future.”
This emphasis on adaptability reflects a broader shift in how designers are approaching long-term urban resilience. In fast-growing cities, where economic and social conditions evolve rapidly, buildings must be designed to change—not just endure.
“Sometimes looking forward is also about looking back into tradition and history and being intensely pragmatic at first,” Munday says. He points to the use of traditional Arabic courtyard typologies as a foundation for flexible, culturally rooted design. “The adaptability is founded in the simplicity of the local vernacular… to define both a culturally as well as functionally enduring building.”
Beyond individual buildings, this philosophy is extending to entire urban systems. In Oman, Hassell’s Sohar New City masterplan demonstrates how environmental regeneration and civic planning can be integrated from the outset.
Rather than imposing a rigid grid, the masterplan responds to the site’s natural hydrology, using a network of wadi corridors to manage flood risk while creating green public spaces.
“We have taken this pattern to create a network of ‘wet and dry’ wadi parks and corridors that disrupt the city grid to not only provide public space and greenery but also to manage the risk of flood waters,” Munday explains. “We conserve and re-use what already exists to become integral to the new.”
This approach signals a departure from the “tabula rasa” model that has defined parts of the region’s development over the past two decades. Instead, the focus is shifting toward conservation, integration, and long-term ecological performance.
A new model of Middle East urbanism rooted in culture and context
At the same time, the region’s architectural identity is undergoing its own transformation. Munday believes the Gulf is moving away from imported design models toward a more authentic, locally driven modernism.
“It is no longer western import with an ‘Arabic veil’ as an approach,” he says. “There is an inside-out Middle Eastern modernism emerging that feels more authentic and substantial.”
This newfound confidence is also reshaping how cities balance ambition with human experience. Monumentality is no longer measured by scale alone, but by cultural relevance and usability.
“The monumental ambition is no longer about inappropriately monumental or iconic architecture… but about cultural relevance and climatic appropriateness,” he says. “This naturally breeds a more relatable, inclusive and accessible human scale in cities.”
However, Munday cautions that the region’s rapid pace of development presents its own risks. Designing entire cities upfront, without allowing for evolution, can limit adaptability over time.
“There seems to be a ‘breathless’ speed and need to design everything for a 1000-hectare new city on day one even if the build out will take the next 20–30 years,” he says.
Instead, he advocates for a more flexible, phased approach—treating masterplans as living frameworks rather than fixed blueprints.
“We are trying to promote a more curatorial approach where the masterplan is treated as a long-range conceptual framework… and then curated in the moment to be responsive and adaptive to change.”
This perspective extends to the concept of “smart cities,” which he believes are often misunderstood. “A true smart city isn’t about the incorporation of technology but more about the capacity of a city to evolve and adapt to yet unknown change.”
Looking ahead, Munday sees the next phase of urban development in the Middle East defined less by new cities and more by the transformation of existing ones—through densification, connectivity, and cultural layering.
“I would hope that the next generation of cities in the Middle East involve the construction of less completely new and separate cities but in the transformation and compacting of the existing,” he says.
Ultimately, the role of designers in this evolving landscape is not just to create buildings, but to connect past, present, and future.
“As designers our job is to help the people we work with in the region to connect their history and traditions to a future trajectory,” Munday says. “In this way we see a future that authentically reflects the people of the region, not a western transplant wearing a faux Arabic skin.”
Read: Why Saudi’s giga projects are changing how cities are built
