For football fans-the soccer kind-the World Cup means everything. The planet's biggest sporting event has always been about more than a game. Entire countries shut down to watch their favorite teams compete-players becoming national heroes or villains with one timely goal or missed penalty kick. It's nerve-jangling, joyous, unifying, magical.
But this year, the spectacle has been tainted for many fans. The 2022 World Cup, which kicks off November 20 and lasts until December 18, is being held in Qatar, a small oil- and gas-rich country in the Middle East with a dubious soccer record-and an even worse human rights one.
Instead of dreaming excitedly about the matches-who will win, who will be top scorer-supporters and the media are talking about the abuse of migrant workers, widespread human rights violations, and threats to LGBTQIA+ supporters.
Amnesty International has called this year's event the "Qatar World Cup of Shame," highlighting the mistreatment of the migrant workers and forced labor-largely from Bangladesh, India, and Nepal-building the tournament's stadiums and infrastructure. Human Rights Watch has called out the country's "serious human rights problems," warning fans that security forces routinely arrest LGBTQIA+ people and "are detaining and abusing LGBT people simply for who they are." Freedom House gives Qatar a "not free" thumbs down in its assessment of global political and civil liberties.
But soccer's governing body, FIFA, which is promising a "World Cup like no other," would rather ignore that discussion. Perhaps not surprising given that it raises billions of dollars from the World Cup and expects five billion viewers to tune in and watch. In a recent statement, FIFA boss Gianni Infantino pleaded with teams competing in the competition to "focus on the football!" Despite acknowledging that sport doesn't happen in a vacuum, he asked that national associations "do not allow football to be dragged into every ideological or political battle that exists."
Many seem set on ignoring his pleas: eight European team captains could wear rainbow armbands during games; Denmark has produced an all-black protest jersey.
Qatar, which hopes the tournament boosts its international standing and helps diversify its economy, has responded to the furor by suggesting some of the criticism may be racially motivated. It also highlighted changes to its labor laws and said that, while it won't be changing laws that criminalize same-sex sexual activity, it would welcome LGBTQIA+ people.
So, where does all that leave everyday fans? Should they watch a tournament they love and celebrate the first ever World Cup in the Middle East? Or does cheering on their team make them complicit in an act of "sportswashing," helping a regime use soccer to launder its global reputation?
The Brink spoke with Henrik Selin, Boston University Frederick S. Pardee School of Global Studies associate dean for studies and an associate professor of international relations. A research expert on sustainable development and global governance and institutions, he's also a big soccer fan.
