The hypocrisy around the first Arab World Cup

I’ve held off writing about the Qatar World Cup until now due to what I perceive to be a past ‘conflict of interests’.

I did, after all, work for Al Jazeera for 16 years, a channel which is financed by Qatar. I left in April 2022 and though I have no ties with it anymore, I strongly believe that Al Jazeera is a necessary voice from the global south within the international news narrative. Is it perfect? No. Is Qatar? Heck no. Did I feel like a hypocrite for making a film about fascism and the threat to democracy that was financed by a state that is not itself a democracy? Yeah, sometimes. But the world isn’t perfect. For 16 years I weighed up the pros and cons and did what, on balance, I felt was the right thing to do. And working at Al Jazeera taught me the valuable lesson that the dominant, English-language Western narrative shouldn’t be taken as the only one worth listening to.

Which leads me neatly to this World Cup. While I know my employment history may cause some of you to doubt my sincerity, I can honestly say that I have no reason or intention to defend Qatar. There is indeed much to criticise.

But while criticism of Qatar is justified, the opprobrium that’s been levelled at this World Cup in the West has been absurd.

I can’t help feeling that there are double standards at play, and that the importance and symbolism of having a World Cup in the Middle East are being overlooked.

Let’s start with pointing out the many failings with the way Qatar has handled this tournament. To me, the issue of the treatment (and, tragically, deaths) of migrant workers is the crucial one. Although Qatar has made efforts to change and improve its labour laws, it obviously didn’t prioritise them as much as it should have.

In its final pre-tournament briefing, Amnesty International said that “Qatar’s overhaul of its labour system since 2017 has led to some noticeable improvements for the country’s two million migrant workers – hundreds of thousands of whom have been engaged in projects essential to the World Cup. However, a lack of effective implementation and enforcement continues to undermine their impact on migrant workers.”

A Guardian analysis in February 2021 found that more than 6,500 migrant workers from India, Pakistan, Nepal, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka had died in Qatar since the award of the tournament in 2010.

The 6500 number is the one that’s been most often used by the media.

The problem is that the death records were not categorised by occupation or place of work, so it’s difficult to arrive at a precise figure of deaths linked to the actual tournament, or to assess how many deaths were preventable given the lack of available information.

Qatar’s official number of World Cup related deaths stands at under 40 and, considering the disparity with the 6500 statistic, is scarcely believable. The fact that the Qataris didn’t keep records as they should have undermines any defence or explanation they might have attempted. They should have predicted the intense and rightful scrutiny over this issue.

Then of course there’s the issue of LGBT+ rights. The flip-flopping on rules over the wearing of LGBT symbols didn’t just create confusion - it sent the message that not everyone was equally welcome at this World Cup. I recommend the ‘FIFA World Cup: A (controversial) Podcast’ by my former colleague Andrew Chapelle for Australian network SBS - it’s a very informative listen. He lived in Qatar for the 10 years leading up to the World Cup, so his podcast is a knowledgeable and nuanced look at many of the issues, crucially allowing the voices of Qatar’s own queer community to be heard.

The criticisms listed above are valid and have rightly had much airtime. But they shouldn’t be the only aspects we look at in this World Cup.

The clue is in the name: It’s a WORLD cup and it’s specifically meant to advance football around the world. The bidding process for the 2010 South Africa World Cup, for example, was only opened to African nations because FIFA wanted 2010 to be the first African-hosted tournament. So at some point it makes sense that the finals should be hosted in the Middle East. And for all of the ‘Qatar has no culture of football’ comments, it’s worth pointing out that the Middle East in general is football crazy. Among my friends, the only people more heartbroken than the Italians at not having made the finals are the Egyptians - and I appreciate it may feel even worse for them precisely because it’s the first Arab World Cup.

Other Arab countries have bid to host the tournament in the past, most notably Morocco for 2010 and 2026, but in an notoriously politically and economically unstable region where security is often an issue, giving the competition to a Gulf nation is not as outlandish as it may first appear. Of course there are questions around how Qatar got the World Cup. However, allegations of corruption didn’t start with the Russia/Qatar bids, and it begs more questions of FIFA than it does the host nations.

So the Qatar World Cup is crucially also the first Arab and Muslim world cup, with all the issues that that brings.

Now let me dig deep into my 16 years of experience working as an Al Jazeera journalist to dispense this precious pearl of geo-political analysis: The Middle East is a complicated region. If it’s in the headlines it’s usually because of war, sectarianism, terrorism, occupation, dictatorships and human rights abuses.

For once, the Arab World was at the centre of the global narrative for something that is literally called the beautiful game: football. But what should have been a wonderful experience has definitely soured.

I am grateful for the friends and people I follow online from my Al Jazeera days, many of whom are currently in Qatar, as they are showing me how much pleasure and pride this tournament is bringing them. Because I wouldn’t be getting any of that from what I’m watching and reading in the UK. I’m a big fan of the BBC, but its decision not to show the Opening Ceremony on its terrestrial TV channel was ridiculous. The corporation broadcast the ceremony from Russia in 2018 after it had already invaded Crimea and the one from the Olympic games in China, a country which has been credibly accused of genocide. Qatar is far from perfect, but to put it in the same category as Russia and China, or imply it’s somehow even worse, is disingenuous.

There’s always a balance to strike between being respectful to one’s hosts while also standing up for one’s values. Anyone who has travelled and lived in different cultures knows this. It’s a fine, imprecise and often awkward line to tread. The Middle East’s religious social conservatism is a case in point for many western liberals. What in the West we call ‘Universal values’ are not actually shared globally. That doesn’t mean that we can’t speak out, but we should have some context when we do so.

In the West, or at least on many of the British news programmes I’ve been listening to, this is often called ‘what-about-ery’. But the voices on my social media timelines who come from the Arab world and beyond call what’s been going on rank hypocrisy.

Talk of migrant rights sounds hollow coming from Europe, a continent that seems to collectively shrug its shoulders at the continuing deaths of migrants trying to cross the Mediterranean, even as the EU strikes deals with Libya - hardly a bastion of human rights- to try to contain the ‘problem’. The US has just deprived millions of its female citizens of the right to abortion. European nations also seem happy to import Qatar’s gas or have substantial financial relationships with the country when it suits them. And the less is said about the war in Iraq, an illegal invasion based on lies and catastrophic in its outcome, the better. Go tell the millions impacted by that conflict that mentioning this is ‘whataboutery’.

No one, and no country, is perfect. If moral perfection was the threshold one had to cross to criticise anything, no one ever could. But some sense of proportion and context would be helpful. Criticising is one thing. Acting like Qatar is the worst country in the world is another. And ultimately, if the whole point of the exercise is to make a nation like Qatar more tolerant and inclusive, our own intolerance could ironically end up being counter-productive.

And on a final note, give me a break about the alcohol.

As a native Italian who’s spent the past 4 decades living between Scandinavia and the UK, I can tell you that the Northern European drinking culture (of which binge drinking is a part) and the behaviour it engenders don’t even go down well in Southern Europe, let alone other parts of the world. For the record, getting sh*t-faced while watching football is not a universal human right.

I know this World Cup is a controversial topic, and I’d love to hear your views. I’d be especially curious about how the tournament is being covered where you live. Comments button below. And remember that all paid subscribers can send me a direct email at barbaraserra@substack.com