On December 2, 2010, the 22 members of the FIFA Executive Committee convened at the organization’s palatial headquarters in Zurich, Switzerland.
This meeting was the final of a series that began in March of the previous year. The host countries of the 2018 and 2022 World Cup tournaments would be announced when the session adjourned.
The entering the final round of voting, the finalists for 2018 were Russia and Spain/Portugal, and for 2022, the United States and Qatar.
In both cases, east defeated west: Russia will host the planet’s most popular event in 2018 and Qatar will follow four years later.
To many, Russia’s victory did not come as much of a surprise: the largest country in the world would host the Winter Olympics in 2014 and then repurpose many of its facilities for 2018 (Brazil secured the 2014 World Cup and 2016 Olympics with a similar approach.)
But the announcement of Qatar’s winning bid, while celebrated in the Arab world, was met with tremendous skepticism outside the Middle East, particularly due to the region’s intense climate, cultural ideologies concerning women and the LGBT community, and rampant accusations of corruption. (Qatar’s World Cup selection has since been vindicated by an internal investigation.)
Qatar’s President, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, brushed off these concerns, calling Qatar 2022 a potential “watershed moment,” insisting it will create unity between the Middle East and countries in the west. “The first global sports event in the Middle East provides an opportunity for greater understanding and unity between the Arab and western worlds and can inspire enthusiastic support from football fans young and old across the entire region,” Sheikh Tamim said.
“We are offering FIFA an incredible event, with a tremendous football legacy, but also a legacy for humanity.”
Five years later, Qatar has certainly written the beginnings of an important narrative for humanity; unfortunately, it is of the ‘we must learn from this’ variety.
World Cup 2022’s emerging legacy is plagued by cruelty and exploitation, riddled with human rights violations and inundated by global criticism.
Allegations of human rights violations in Qatar began to emerge shortly after World Cup construction began in 2010. Qatar, a tiny country with the world’s highest per-capita income and lowest unemployment rate, has freighted in 1.4 million impoverished migrant workers from surrounding countries to build stadiums, hotels and other venues.
Sharan Burrow, general secretary of the International Trade Union Confederation, explained that once in Qatar, migrant workers are essentially enslaved, sardined into insalubrious housing.
“They arrive to find their contract is often torn up. They are paid half the wages and are forced to live in squalor,” Burrow said. “Slavery lives in Qatar.”
Qatar’s total world cup expenditure is expected to total over $200 billion. While this sum astronomical, it is nothing compared to the cost incurred by neighboring countries – India, for example, lost 700 men and women in the first two years of 2022 World Cup construction due to deplorable working and living conditions.
ESPN’s E:60 documentary titled Qatar’s World Cup, reveals the explicit human rights violations occurring on a daily basis in Qatar. In the film, Burrow is quoted saying “at current rates, 4,000 people will die to make the 2022 World Cup a reality.”
How is this possible?
Jeremy Stall, Senior Editor of Slate magazine, explains that the abuses are a result of the nation’s kafala employment system, “which has been aptly described as modern-day slavery.”
“Through kafala, employers are allowed to confiscate a migrant’s passport and withhold exit visas, effectively preventing that person from leaving the country,” Stall said.
Qatar has attempted to mend its severely fractured global image by promising reformation. Recently, Qatari officials have pointed to examples of recreational opportunities provided to workers during their free-time.
One of these supposed “opportunities” occurred last month: Organizers of a Qatari Mega Marathon bused in migrant workers to break a world record for number of participants. During the marathon, which was eventually changed to a half-marathon because of extreme heat, workers were reportedly coerced into to running 13 miles, many wearing flip-flops and jeans.
A participant in the told Doha News, “Some laborers tried to leave but were turned back and were yelled at that they need to stay and cross the line.”
Another called it, “one of the most disorganized and chaotic events I have ever had the displeasure of attending.”
The race failed to break the world record.
As if all this isn’t bad enough, the logistics of planning a World Cup in the Asian desert are proving to be a nightmare. In February, it was announced that the global event, which has historically taken place from mid-June to mid-July, will take place in November and December of 2022.
The unprecedented scheduling change was made due to the extreme heat of Qatar’s summer (day-time temperatures typically reaching over 45 Celsius, or 113 Fahrenheit). In its original bid for the World Cup, the Qatar 2022 committee claimed that the tournament could still take place in the summer because plans were in place to “harness solar powered energy to cool match venues to about 27 C (80 F).”
Apparently, this cooling method isn’t all that practical.
News of the event’s postponement has caused an uproar across international football, particularly in Europe.
Peter Coates, chairman of English Premiere League’s Stoke City, referred to the situation as a “disaster,” explaining that a winter world cup would cause massive disruption to the EPL schedule as well as the UEFA Champions League and Europe League.
Football Association Chairman Greg Dyke acknowledged the copious scheduling problems presented by the 2022 World Cup, but called it “the best of bad options” because the venue is unlikely to be changed.
Even President Blatter, a former proponent of Qatar 2022, has finally acknowledged the misjudgment his committee made in 2010. However, Blatter’s recent comments seem to have an air of dismissiveness, as if the problem can simply be shrugged off, “Yes, it was a mistake of course, but one makes lots of mistakes in life,” he said.
Really, Sepp? This isn’t like eating and then forgetting to wait a half-hour before going swimming; this is a high-dive into the shallow end.
In addition to the impending logistical chaos caused by World Cup postponement, actual chaos is occurring on the ground, and in the air, in Qatar. Over the past month, the region has been rocked by a series of sand storms that have caused health problems, delayed flights and shut down schools and businesses. Typical weather patterns in the region suggest that sand storms should not be an issue during the winter world cup months, although current conditions have slowed down construction.
This is all incredibly disappointing because the idea of world-unifying event in the Middle East is admirable – western stereotypes of the region, and vice-versa, are certainly harmful to global cohesiveness. And admittedly, the proposed stadiums look pretty awesome:
Moving Forward
Seven and a half years remain until the 2022 World Cup, and all its pomp and circumstance, take hold in the desert. There is still time to compensate for some of the egregious mistakes made in the 2022 World Cup prep thus far; however, the biggest mistake, the decision made in 2010 by a group of sports’ 22 most powerful executives, will never be vindicated because the families who have lost loved ones will never be made whole.