Lush Gutters

In the best circumstances the build-up to a World Cup involves hype and hysteria, anxiety and excitement, and the giddy thrill of consciously misguided expectation. Once every four years, myself and millions of others mentally depart the real world and allow ourselves an opportunity to frolic in a realm unconnected from whatever woe engulfs our respective nations. The World Cup, all being well, represents an escape. At least, that’s the idea.

So much of this depends on the flavour of the tournament itself, a responsibility that lies with the host nation. When done properly, a World Cup can be cemented in our memories as a cultural happening, an artistic celebration of sorts, almost entirely seperate even from the quality of football on offer. Italia ’90 featured some of the most insipid and forgettable matches ever seen in a major tournament, and yet for those old enough to remember it remains one of the most iconic and fondly remembered editions of the sporting world’s greatest showpiece. And not just because England weren’t shit.

I can’t hear the rising, bittersweet passion of Puccini’s Nessun Dorma without being immediately and gratefully reminded of Gascoigne’s tears, Bobby Robson’s avuncular stoicism, Stuart Pearce’s lion-hearted bravery, and the rebirth of England’s footballing identity. What’s remarkable is that all this I picked up after the fact; I was only four years old during Italia ’90 and therefore recall nothing of the occasion as it happened. However, thanks to the magic of VHS, I was able to make up for lost time over the following years, as my love for football blossomed into a full-blown obsession.

USA ’94 was next up, and once again a relatively mundane tournament was brought alive, this time by classically American razzle-dazzle. I remember being hopelessly awed by the cavernous stadiums, the novelty over-sized goalnets, and the iconic garishness of the players’ shirts. England hadn’t even qualified (and my parents wouldn’t let me stay up past bedtime for many of the games), yet still I was hooked. It was a simpler time.

Alas, with age comes the loss of innocence. The older I got, and the more I noticed that there were things more important than football, the harder it became to look past the myriad issues that come with a nation’s involvement in staging an occasion of such costly grandeur. The ill-treatment meted out against refugees and the homeless in the build-up to South Africa 2010 was ghoulish; crippling debt and abandoned stadiums seem to be the only lasting legacies there.

Brazil 2014 featured mass evictions, violent protests, police brutality, and the wanton bulldozing of favelas. As for Russia 2018… I don’t really need to go into that one, do I? The opening fixture alone should have had any impartial viewer squirming through their seat. We kicked off with Russia vs Saudi Arabia: there we were treated to the sight of FIFA president Gianni Infantino turning to his left to cheerfully gladhand noted war criminal Vladimir Putin, only a few years removed from ordering the invasion and annexation of Crimea. He then turned to his left to make nice with Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman, who in about four months will have journalist Jamal Khashoggi butchered in a Saudi consulate in Turkey. Yay sports.

And so with increasing cynicism we arrive in 2022. Where are FIFA taking us this time? To which paragon of civility and openness are we heading now?

Qatar, eh? FIFA, you’re just fucking with us now, aren’t you?

I’m not here to talk about the lunacy of picking a host nation in which it’s physically impossible to play football without dying miserably from heat stroke. Or that a nation smaller than Connecticut will find it next to impossible to find beds for the expected 1.2 million attendees. Or the documented bribery that led to Qatar being selected as hosts in the first place. Or the roughly 6,500 migrant labourers worked to death building the necessary stadia (for more on this, check out the Guardian’s examination of this sorry episode: https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2021/feb/23/revealed-migrant-worker-deaths-qatar-fifa-world-cup-2022)

Nope, I’m going with the humiliating hypocrisy of FIFA’s attitude to equality. It’s really only for those with deep enough pockets, it seems.

More equal than others

FIFA’s rationale for sending the World Cup to a nation ranked 128th on the Cato Institute’s Human Freedom Index (sandwiched snugly between Azerbaijan and Angola) is supposedly – and rather ironically – rooted in egalitarianism. The World Cup has never been hosted in the middle east, and FIFA touted their decision as a means to bridge the gap between the Arab world and the West. It’s hoped that by hosting the tournament, the region’s footballing competitiveness will benefit in the same way as it did for the US after the ’94 edition. It’s also worth mentioning that Qatar, unlike some previous host nations, can at least legitmately afford to pay for it all. So, there’s that, I guess.

However, I find it difficult to mention the word ‘egalitarianism’ in the same sentence as ‘Qatar’ without throwing up in my mouth a little bit.

FIFA’s supposed commitment to acceptance and tolerance is all well and good when considering hosting rights. Yet that spirit seems to wither when it comes to the rights of those that wish to attend the tournament. It should never, ever, ever be forgotten that FIFA chose to host this tournament in a country where it is punishable by death to be gay. Blatter and co sought to open up the world to football, without stopping to think about whether some parts of the world wish to open themselves up to others.

The hypocrisy among those that benefit from the largesse of oil-rich gulf states is particularly nauseating; politicians such as the UK’s Foreign Secretary James Cleverly fall over themselves to ensure that members of the LGBTQ+ community respect the sick laws of the host nation, without ever stopping to wonder why Qatar asked to host a tournament knowing that gay fans would want to attend. The very fact that Cleverly feels compelled to issue such a warning to the gay community speaks deafening volumes. The message is clear: keep your heads down. Yeah, I mean… you can go, of course. Just don’t be too gay. That would be rude. This is on you.

The underlying, depressing truth is that he can’t guarantee your safety. FIFA would, of course, have known this beforehand. They just didn’t care.

Infantino and co. will claim that by putting a spotlight on Qatar, it will encourage the authorities there to perhaps reconsider their views on ‘issues’ such as homosexuality. I ask you this: when has it ever worked to reward a person before they’ve solved a problem? Would it not have been more morally justifiable to say to any nation that wishes to host the tournament, “until you put a stop to such vile discrimination you’re not getting anywhere near a World Cup!” But that doesn’t pay, y’see. Better to safeguard your income and just hope they get the point. After all, pious zealots are a pretty reasonable bunch. Surely nobody can be that attached to thousands of years of religiously-mandated oppression? I’m sure a bit of football will put an immediate stop to all this silliness. Play on.

We’re hardly ones to talk. I find it unsurprising that the current occupant of what used to be a revered position in the British government can utter such bile considering the sustained backlash against the gains made by the LGBTQ+ community in the UK and elsewhere in the West. Cleverly’s party have been insidiously exploiting anti-gay and anti-trans sentiment at home in the name of hoovering up some of those sweet, sweet “anti-woke” far-right votes that might otherwise go to UKIP. His tone-deafness highlights the increasingly potent stench of straight, white victimhood that pollutes British political discourse. It’s his party that tries to convince us to distrust people who decide to switch pronouns. It was his party that torpedoed the premiership candidacy of Penny Mordaunt because she was deemed too supportive of those that may wish to undergo gender transition. He’s the last person that should be lecturing anyone on respect.

And it’s here that I must turn my gunsights on myself. Because despite my sincere disgust at the continuing suspicion and hostility to the LGBTQ+ community espoused by the likes of Cleverly and the Qatari government, I know that come November 20th my brain will be consumed not by matters of social justice, but instead by the travails of those who can kick a ball really well.

Leave your morals at the door

FIFA is banking – literally – on people like me. Since what FIFA values most is cold, hard cash, it appears the only meaningful way to dissent is for enough people to ignore Qatar 2022, to not tune in, to keep their money in their pockets. And I just… can’t. I’m sorry.

I will be tuning in. I will be getting excited, or angry, depending on England’s fortunes. And FIFA knows it. It knows that for many people football is a true love, an obsession that lives on because of cherished childhood events such as Italia ’90, USA ’94, and years of innocent, wide-eyed dreaming. They have me by the balls.

And so will continue the commitment to what’s best for FIFA, as opposed to what’s best for football, or indeed society as a whole. They’ll continue to sell the World Cup to the highest bidder, no matter their human-rights record.

Even from a purely sporting perspective this spells disaster. The following World Cup in 2026 will see the introduction of a 48-team tournament. Sixteen groups of three teams means more matches, more competing teams, and therefore more money, all at the expense of the simple, unimpeachable format that has been working wonderfully since 1998. This means that, rather perversely, Qatar 2022 might be our last chance for a good World Cup. This is where I tear in two.

And so I beg for your forgiveness. I am part of the problem. I will willingly sacrifice my principles to gawp at the spectacle of twenty-two men hoofing around a leather sphere for an hour and a half a pop. This is why the problems will persist. The powers-that-be prey on love, all whilst they make decisions that actively oppose it – such as granting the tournament to a nation that will kill you if you do it wrong. And I’ll be along for the ride. I simply can’t help myself.

FIFA represents all that is wrong in the world. And so do I.