By Adam Mountain, Co-Deputy Sports Editor
"Football is a world game". These were the words of FIFA President Gianni Infantino, a man who never misses an opportunity to posture football as a global unifier. But with yesterday’s confirmation that Saudi Arabia will host the 2034 World Cup, FIFA has once again revealed its hollow promises and moral bankruptcy. This decision is more than just the continuation of a worrying trend. It represents the culmination of FIFA’s ultimate betrayal of the game, its fans, and the values it claims to uphold.
A World Cup for the few, not the many
Saudi Arabia’s human rights record is not a secret. It is a nation where women’s freedoms remain shackled under the male guardianship system, while homosexuality is criminalised and punishable by imprisonment, flogging, or even death. Recent reforms under de facto ruler Mohammed bin Salman (MBS), which include allowing women to drive or attend football matches, have been celebrated by apologists. But in reality they remain surface-level changes masking systemic oppression. Women still face severe restrictions under the guardianship system, requiring approval for basic rights like travel, marriage, and education.
For LGBTQ+ individuals, Saudi Arabia is among the world’s most dangerous places under Sharia law. What will having the presence of LGBTQ+ fans, players, or journalists at the 2034 World Cup look like? It's a deeply uncomfortable uncertainty.
You may recall the controversies around the OneLove campaign launched prior to the 2022 Qatar World Cup. The English FA aimed for the campaign to,
"[use the] power of football to promote inclusion and send a message against discrimination of any kind as the eyes of the world fall on the global game.”
But this message was never told. Hours prior to the commencement of the tournament, FIFA threatened disciplinary sanctions for any team whose captain wore the OneLove armband. Homosexuality is strictly outlawed in Qatar similarly to that of Saudi Arabia, and those found guilty have suffered abuse such as beatings, torture, and forced 'conversion therapy', while capital punishment remains theoretically possible, although it has never been imposed.
Some teams did respond to this ban. Germany's national team decided to protest FIFA's OneLove armband rule before its World Cup match against Japan, covering their mouths during a photo. The national team Twitter account posted a statement alongside this:
“It wasn’t about making a political statement — human rights are non-negotiable.”
The Wales National Team were also seen displaying rainbow flags during training in solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community.
So FIFA’s decision to reaffirm the ban for the 2023 Women’s World Cup hosted by Australia and New Zealand perhaps came as more of a surprise to some, given that homosexuality is legal in these countries (New Zealand being the first nation in the Asia-Pacific region to legalise gay marriage in 2013). Infantino’s words prior to the 2023 World Cup only contribute to the absolute hypocrisy of FIFA’s commitments to ensuring the world’s most watched event is inclusive to all:
"Football unites the world and our global events, such as the FIFA Women's World Cup, have a unique power to bring people together and provide joy, excitement and passion."
What was FIFA’s compromise? Sanctioned armbands with vague slogans that reduced the OneLove campaign to a performative gesture.
Football is for everyone, Infantino reminds us. Yet time and again, FIFA makes decisions that alienate vast swathes of the global fanbase, choosing to actively partner with nations that criminalise the very communities FIFA claims to empower. How many LGBTQ+ fans, women, or other marginalised groups will feel welcome in 2034?
Image courtesy of Nasif Tazwar, Unsplash
“FIFA has shown its commitment to human rights to be a sham”.
Saudi Arabia’s successful bid also mirrors the 2022 Qatar World Cup in arousing serious international concern for the potential human rights abuses of migrant workers. Saudi Arabia’s labour system has long mirrored that of Qatar’s deeply flawed kafala system, which ties migrant workers’ employment and legal status to their employers. Qatar’s World Cup was built on the backs of exploited workers who worked in dangerous, dehumanising conditions. Thousands of deaths were reported, yet FIFA remained largely silent. The same risks now loom over Saudi Arabia.
And the huge infrastructure projects required to host the 2034 World Cup would only point towards history repeating itself. Indeed, there are plans for the construction of eight stadiums before 2034. Migrant workers, many from South Asia and Africa, will likely face gruelling hours, unsafe conditions, and limited rights. Amnesty International has already raised the alarm, demanding FIFA ensure safeguarding measures to prevent further exploitation, although this seems unlikely. On the confirmation of Saudi Arabia’s successful bid, Steve Cockburn, Amnesty International’s Head of Labour Rights and Sport, said:
“FIFA knows workers will be exploited and even die without fundamental reforms in Saudi Arabia, and yet has chosen to press ahead regardless.”
The silences following the 2022 World Cup suggests little will change. For all its claims of learning from past mistakes, FIFA has shown no inclination to address the systemic abuses that come with awarding tournaments to nations reliant on cheap, expendable labour. The question remains: how many lives will be sacrificed this time for FIFA’s billions?
Saudi Arabia’s extreme climate and role as one of the world’s biggest producers of fossil fuels presents another glaring issue: the environmental cost of hosting a World Cup in a desert nation. Qatar’s 2022 tournament offered a grim preview of what lies ahead. Air-conditioned stadiums, constructed to combat soaring temperatures, required enormous energy consumption.
Saudi Arabia’s ‘Vision 2030’ plan has ambitious goals for sustainability, but how does that square with the environmental impact of building new stadiums, hotels, roads, and infrastructure in a desert? Massive desalination plants, energy-intensive cooling systems, and emissions from construction will inevitably undermine global climate goals. The ecological cost will be catastrophic.
'Sportswashing' and the Saudi playbook
The World Cup announcement is part of Saudi Arabia’s strategy of ‘sportswashing’, a term used to describe the practice of using sports to improve reputations tarnished by wrongdoing. It's worth knowing that MBS justifies this as part of his aims at diversifying the Saudi economy away from an over-dependency on oil. MBS and the Saudi Public Investment Fund (PIF) have spent billions embedding the state in global sports. The Saudi Pro League has lured Cristiano Ronaldo and Neymar Jr. with eye-watering contracts (Ronaldo’s contract with Al Nassr is estimated at c.$200 million per year). Newcastle United, owned by a consortium primarily funded by the PIF since 2021, serves as a soft-power extension of the kingdom in the English Premier League. The second installment of Tyson Fury vs Oleksandr Usyk on 21st December will again be held at the Kingdom Arena, Riyadh, while the Jeddah Grand Prix will remain on the F1 circuit until at least 2030.
The goal? To project a polished, progressive image to the world while deflecting attention from atrocities committed both domestically and abroad. The most glaring example is the kingdom’s involvement in Yemen’s devastating conflict, where Saudi-led coalition forces have committed indiscriminate bombings that have killed thousands of civilians. The United Nations and multiple human rights organisations have documented alleged war crimes, describing the humanitarian crisis as one of the worst in modern times.
To raise this issue is not to overshadow the focus of football but to acknowledge the consequences of FIFA’s decisions. Instead of holding Saudi Arabia accountable or demanding tangible progress, FIFA has handed them football’s most prestigious tournament on a silver platter.
A one-horse auction
The farcical nature of the 2034 bidding process only compounds FIFA’s complicity. It all seems rather well thought out. The first three games of the 2030 World Cup are to be played in Uruguay, Argentina and Paraguay, with the rest to be played in Spain, Portugal and Morocco (consider the ecological implications of that), meaning that under FIFA regulations only Asian or Oceanic nations were allowed to bid to host the 2034 World Cup. With Australia withdrawing at the last minute, Saudi Arabia effectively ran unopposed. The New York Times has investigated the efforts personally made by Infantino to urge the Asian Football Confederation to rally behind the Saudi bid.
FIFA’s recent partnership with Aramco, the Saudi state-owned oil company, is likely to have much to do with this. Aramco’s vast financial power has made it an influential sponsor in global sports, funnelling back to the Saudi Crown.
Equally troubling is Infantino’s increasingly cozy relationship with MBS. His glowing endorsements of Saudi initiatives and frequent appearances alongside the Crown Prince implicate FIFA’s president as more of an ally to an authoritarian regime than a steward of football. Infantino's leadership is not simply complicit in sportswashing – it actively enables it.
Has the game truly gone?
‘The game’s gone’ is a phrase many football pundits and fans alike have thrown around, usually referring to players embarrassingly diving, or the often awful implementation of VAR in the Premier League. But in relation to the 2034 World Cup, it is getting increasingly difficult to argue otherwise.
FIFA’s defenders argue that football can drive progress. That hosting tournaments in countries like Qatar and Saudi Arabia will open dialogue and lead to reform. But in Qatar, the World Cup came and went, and migrant workers’ lives remained expendable. FIFA has remained silent on its supposed ‘legacy’.
Players, so often the pawns in this global game, must decide whether they will again risk punishment for speaking out. Fans, the lifeblood of football, must ask themselves whether they can continue to support a sport whose governing body sells out its values so readily.
If Saudi Arabia is rewarded now, where does it stop? Will the World Cup become a tool for authoritarian states to launder their reputations? FIFA’s refusal to set ethical standards for hosts sends a clear message: morality is for sale, and the highest bidder wins.
Do you think the 2034 World Cup should be hosted in Saudi Arabia?
Featured image: courtesy of Pixabay
