“Wow, I didn’t see that coming at all.” exclaims BBC co-commentator Dion Dublin, “High boot, maybe? No, the screen definitely says offside?”
“Both coaches hold their breath, so do both sets of supporters here in the stadium.” narrates commentator Steve Bower, who has just witnessed Enner Valencia put Ecuador in the lead against the host nation Qatar within three minutes of the first game at the 2022 World Cup.
Qatar had no appeal for offside and both sets of players had walked towards the centre circle for the restart – it was a bizarre intervention which stunned the Lusail Stadium into silence.
“Offside! Goal ruled out.” Steve Bower informed the UK watching the live BBC broadcast. Dublin tried to offer his analysis: “And the offside has come from…I can’t see where the offside has come from there. From those pictures we’ve just seen, I couldn’t see an offside.”
Dublin continues in disbelief, “I don’t know! I can’t see anything there whatsoever. I don’t know why that’s been disallowed, no idea at all!”
It took just six minutes for the world not just to be questioning the offside rule, but the host nations integrity on the world’s grandest stage. It wasn’t just Ecuador feeling robbed, but the millions in their living rooms, local pubs and commentary booths, wondering if Qatar’s murky past had just seeped onto the pitch itself.
Are we watching the World Cup’s darkest fears unfold in real time? Has the script been written before a ball was kicked? Has corruption just scored its own goal?
2nd December 2010 – Zurich, Switzerland.
The reaction on the pitch, press boxes and social media didn’t arrive from nowhere. It was the crescendo of controversy that has been building momentum for twelve years.
The seed was planted on the 2nd December 2010, on a snowy evening in Zurich, Switzerland, when Sepp Blatter lifted Qatar out of his envelope – and the world gasped.
Alan Shearer was in attendance in the Swiss boardroom, and he claimed that the overall reaction around the boardroom was, how? He spoke to the BBC: “We were there in 2010, and we were as surprised as anyone was.”
But why was it so shocking?
Qatar was a nation with no pedigree in the world of football, searing summer temperatures and an infrastructure plan yet to be built.
With offers on the table from the United States of America, South Korea, Japan and Australia, it seemed extraordinary that Qatar had won the bidding process.
Louis van Gaal commented passionately about Qatar: "It's ridiculous, it's all about money and commercial interests."
There were questions asked over the legitimacy of Qatar’s winning bid for the World Cup, and since the vote in 2010, fifteen of the 22 FIFA committee members that voted in favour of Qatar have faced criminal charges or been banned from football.
One of these members – and the villain of the process in the media – was Sepp Blatter, who made an incredible revelation in the Swiss newspaper Tages-Anzeiger, stating: “The choice of Qatar was a mistake.
“It’s too small a country. Football and the World Cup are too big for that.
“We actually agreed that Russia should get the 2018 World Cup, and the USA should get it in 2022. It would have been a gesture of peace if the two long-standing political opponents hosted the World Cup after one another.
“The choice was bad. What I’m wondering is why the new FIFA president is living in Qatar?”
It wasn’t just the fact that Qatar is a small nation with no infrastructure to host the beautiful games most prestigious event, it was the baggage that came with it.
Firstly, homosexuality is illegal in Qatar. Secondly, women in Qatar live in a system of deep discrimination, reliant on men to marry, travel, pursue higher education or even make decisions on their own children.
History tells us that sport can win hearts and minds, bringing the world together in celebration. How can you do this when half the world fears even attending?
Even more worrying is the cost it took to put on the smart, polished and clean event with the new infrastructure in place. Not the monetary cost – the stark human cost.
The Guardian alleged that 6,500 migrant workers from India, Pakistan, Nepal, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka have died in Qatar since they won the vote to host the World Cup in 2010.
An International Trade Union Confederation report said: “Whether the cause of death is labelled a work incident, heart attack (brought on by the life-threatening conditions of heat stress) or diseases from squalid living conditions, the root cause is always the same – working conditions.”
The environmental problems also surfaced, when a nation which already has a bad name for its fossil fuel emissions, promised a plan that involved monumental building works for 12 years. The high carbon footprint, cooling efforts in stadiums, and then the decision to re-schedule to a Winter World Cup disrupting league football calendars didn’t go down to kindly with fans.
Neville and Carragher discussing the Qatar World Cup.
Historically, major sporting events like this tend to champion inclusivity and justice, but Qatar seemed to operate backwards. Underpinning all the controversy was the press restriction – why guard people from sharing their opinions unless they had nothing to hide?
“So, that’s where we are with this World Cup.” Alan Shearer finished, speaking to Gary Lineker on the BBC.
20th November 2022 – The Lusail Stadium, Qatar.
The press box was then flashed with the images which showed the tight offside call, which was correctly given, and this moment kick-started a World Cup oozing with drama and narrative.
The compilation of an already razor-tight call, unexpected contact with the ball from an Ecuador player and the Qatar goalkeeper rushing into the melee (taking himself out of the offside equation) resulted in mass confusion – but a spot-on decision by the referees.
The drama was only just getting started.
From start to finish, the football was enthralling. Countries made history, there are games that will be replayed for years, and memories for life for many fans out there.
Here are some of the best moments.
The early stages were exciting, but it didn’t compare in magnitude or memory to what happened at the Lusail Stadium one week before Christmas day.
Argentina v France. Europe v South America. Messi v Mbappe. The stage was set for one of the best World Cup finals in history, and it didn’t disappoint.
The first 80 minutes were performed off Scaloni’s script – with Argentina two goals up after first-half efforts from Messi and Di Maria.
Then Mbappe arrived, scoring two goals in 97 seconds to see Messi’s dreams in jeopardy. Messi and Mbappe both scored in extra time, and the tie was heading to penalties.
Emiliano Martinez did the rest. The moment came, and Lionel Messi dropped to his knees and looked up to the heavens.
The overwhelming emotion engulfed the little boy from Rosario whilst his teammates ran off in celebration.
Kylian Mbappe’s hat-trick earned him the Golden Boot, as he finished top scorer in the competition, but his World Cup ended in the most inglorious despair, as Argentina prevailed in the shoot-out and took the World Cup trophy back home after a 30-year wait.
Messi completed football that day. Qatar will always be remembered for that. The timeless photo of Lionel Messi, draped in a ‘bisht’ – a traditional, ceremonial cloak worn in the Arab world, is a respectful nod to Qatari culture on the biggest day of his career.
A World Cup with a Purpose
It was the most unforgettable, enthralling and breathless final Qatar could’ve hoped for. They couldn’t have wished for a better ending.
The Qatari government had been put through 12 rounds by media all over the world for the controversies heading into the tournament, but the first World Cup to take place in the Arab world was record-breaking as it was groundbreaking.
The football was phenomenal, even beyond Messi’s fairytale end in his last dance at a World Cup. The Qatar tournament was the highest scoring of all-time, the first time ever that five continents were represented in the quarter-finals, and Morocco became the first African side to get to the World Cup semi-finals in history.
Off the pitch, Qatar invested over $220 billion on infrastructure projects in the build-up, building eight sparkling new stadiums, but they were less than just one percent of the building work that took place.
Revamped airports, new highways, hundreds of hotels and a brand-new metro system were just some of the things that Qatar had to build to fit not just the football – but the scene around it.
It was also the most compact World Cup of all time, making it easy for fans, teams and journalists to attend multiple matches in one day and enjoy all the entertainment on offer efficiently.
The fans weren’t just treated to striking stadiums, but family-friendly entertainment locations, fan zones, museums, resorts and daily festivals.
Qatar were proud and the PR drive was strong. They used David Beckham – world renowned for his sporting legacy and charming looks – to promote the event, elevating Qatar’s appeal and credibility.
Whether it was the stunning sunset shots of Doha’s city skyline, the authentic glimpses of Qatari culture or the cutting-edge shining stadiums, Qatar did it right.
Yet, whilst these captivating pictures were celebrated, they also served to mask what lies beneath. It is a practice known as sportswashing, which is heavily linked to the use of soft power.
In 2004, Joseph Nye wrote ‘Soft Power, The Means to Success in World Politics’ defining soft power as: “The ability to get what you want through attraction rather than coercion. It arises from the attractiveness of a countries culture, political ideals and policies. When our policies are seen as legitimate in the eyes of others, our soft power is enhanced.”
Qatar were trying to ‘win hearts and minds’ – a phrase coined by the British General, Sir Gerald Templar.
In the Malaysian Emergency in the 1950’s, the British General was tasked with defeating a communist insurgency. His advice to troops was to tackle the situation not just with military action, but by ‘winning the hearts and minds’ of the locals.
He focused on the social, economic and political problems of the locals to gain their support to undermine the influence of the insurgents, and it is a strategy used by the United Nations and humanitarian organisations in areas of conflict.
Nicollo Machiavelli is a good example of how times changed between his lifetime (1469-1527) and the last one hundred years. He was an Italian diplomat, author, philosopher and historian who lived during the Italian renaissance.
Joseph Nye wrote about him in his 2004 book: “More than four centuries ago, Niccolo Machiavelli advised princes in Italy that it was more important to be feared than to be loved. But in today’s world, it is best to both.
“Winning hearts and minds has always been important, but it is even more so in a global information age.”
But why did Qatar use football to change the perception and re-write their past in the eyes of the world?
In 2000, at the inaugural Laureus World Sports Awards, Nelson Mandela declared this:
The voices of Nye, Templar and Mandela unveil an insight into the deeper reasons why Qatar benefitted from hosting a sports event, and the biggest one in the world at that.
As the competition came to a close in late December, the media was flooded with compliments to Qatar, with journalists and pundits telling the stories from the middle-eastern country and how it wasn’t as bad as they thought.
The truth is, it wasn’t just Messi and Argentina celebrating at the Lusail Stadium, the Qatari higher-ups were too – as their soft power plan had come to life.
The Hidden Scars of Sportswashing
The fact is, Messi’s bisht couldn’t wipe away the blood on Qatar’s hands, and Infantino’s press conferences couldn’t replace the stories of those who lost their lives in the 12 years leading up to the tournament.
The World Cup would never have happened if it wasn’t for the work of people like Lekhneth Khatiwada, a Nepalese migrant worker in Qatar.
He was unmarried, his parents had no income, had an unwell father and had three sisters to support. He had never left Nepal before his flight to Doha, where he was shocked that the doors opened automatically for him.
He was promised the job as a driver for Coca Cola, but he realised that this wasn’t the case when he was lifting 450 sacks into his van, which he then delivered and had to unload; every day of the week. No days off. In excruciating heat.
If he missed his delivery slots, he was threatened with his job. He couldn’t leave, the government had his passport. Qatar called the shots on when he worked and when he returned.
“It felt like imprisonment,” Lekhneth told Simon Hughes at The Athletic, “It was like modern slavery.”
During his time in Qatar, he worked on the Khalifa International Stadium and at a gas plant, but his worst job was steamrollering the Salwa Road: “It was in the middle of the desert, we had to take our lunch on the tarmac with no protection of the shade.”
Temperatures average 37 degrees Celsius in the hotter months in Qatar. Signing a contract to work long hours with no protection in that heat is nothing short of a death contract.
He continued talking to Hughes: “It was extremely hot. People collapsed regularly. Many died.”
Lekhneth recalled one story, remembering when one of his colleagues had decided to rest next to the wheel of a digger (for shade) and that he would’ve been tragically crushed if Lekhneth hadn’t had alerted the unknowing driver seconds before disaster.
After going home to Nepal, circumstances led to Lekhneth returning to Qatar – this time as a married man with a daughter. He spoke about his mental health and how much he missed his wife and child – and that he was glad the work took his mind of it as others killed themselves with the loneliness mixed with the working conditions.
Interviewed in 2022 – Lekhneth quietened his voice so his new family couldn’t hear: “If I didn’t go to Qatar, I would still have a relationship with my first daughter, it broke my family.”
His wife left him during his second stint in Qatar: “I lost the prime of my life and most of my savings in the divorce.”
Then you have the stories of Anupa and Renuka, two women who don’t know each other but are bonded by the pain Qatar caused to their families. They both have daughters, and they both lost their husbands.
Anupa told her story to human rights journalist Pramod Acharya. She only lived with her husband for four months of the seven years they were married. He would, “try to re-assure me,” and video calls were important, so they didn’t forget each other’s faces.
The money Dinesh (her husband) had earnt away from home helped build a small house on a small patch of land for Anupa and their child, Divya. On the 30th August, his daughter (7) ended a call saying, “Daddy, take care on your duty.” He then told Anupa he would call her after his shift, but the call never came.
Dinesh was four months away from returning to Nepal for good, and they dreamt of running their own delivery company for dairy goods in Chitwan. That dream disappeared in Doha.
His phone was returned to Anupa, and his 4AM alarm from Qatar wakes her up every day, and she thinks of what he had to work through out of the love for his family.
Renuka’s husband Tej died at just 24 years old. Renuka told Hughes: “Sometimes my daughter gets upset, especially when she sees other children with their dads. She says to me, ‘I would go to work with my daddy if he was still alive.’”
A death can sometimes just look like a number on the news, as we as humans have become so desensitised to the tragic events that happen daily around the globe.
For every death in Qatar, there was an Anupa, a Divya, or a Renuka.
In Qatar, the show goes on – but the background noise shouldn’t go away.
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