Russia 2018 will be fine. Absolutely fine. I can already picture the BBC’s opening titles: a stirring, red-hued montage of images of Moscow’s skyline, the colourful towers of Saint Basil’s Cathedral, stunning blonde girls smiling in furry hats and the tournament’s slogan written out in faux-Cyrillic alphabet to suggest the glamorous post-Cold War exoticism of our giant neighbours to the East.
Their team will be full of stars we’ll know the names of – and at some point John Motson (he’ll still be going, don’t worry) will mistakenly refer to them as “The Soviets” and immediately apologise. Players and journalists will grumble about the long distances between host cities, and there’s bound to be some worries about organised crime, most of which will doubtless be well-hidden. But the mixture of turbulent history, stunning architecture and post-Communist intrigue will make for a perfectly acceptable “European” World Cup. All very much like Germany 2006, in fact.
The travelling fans will love it too – particularly the English, should they qualify. We all know the Russians love a good drink and a good party, and Red Square will surely make a spectacular “Fan Fest”. The final will probably be held at the Luzhniki Stadium, which is steeped in footballing history as the home of both Spartak Moscow and Torpedo Moscow, as well as having hosted the 2008 Champions League Final. Expanded for the tournament, it’s as sure to go down as a memorable setting for a World Cup Final – an “historic” World Cup Final, no less – as Soccer City and the Olympiastadion were and Wembley might have been.
Qatar 2022, on the other hand, I’m less sure about. Qatar were actually my bet to take 2022, but only because of the grim inevitability that FIFA members would want to chase the new money, the new market and the honour for Blatter of having brought the World Cup to yet another new territory. In some people’s eyes he’ll go down as a hero for this – but for others he’ll just be cementing his reputation as someone more concerned with his own glory than that of the game.
But what will Qatar 2022 actually be like as a tournament? It’s very hard to imagine. We’ve never seen a World Cup held in such a small country before; Qatar has a population of just over 1.6 million people and an area of 11,000 square kilometres, which is geographically analogous to holding the World Cup in Connecticut.
We’ve also not seen a World Cup held in a nation ruled by Sharia law. Don’t expect to see giddy, drunken fans swamping the streets at this tournament. Public drunkenness is a punishable offence (just as, tragically, is homosexuality). And it’s hard to imagine those bikini-clad, body-painted Brazilian girls the World Cup cameramen love so much getting a look in.
The closest thing we have, I suppose, is an event like the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. The circuit and adjoining hotel are architecturally stunning and no doubt built to the highest standard – but then they’re populated by only the wealthiest and best-connected people on the planet and their Monaco-yacht-standard girlfriends. Who will be filling the twenty new stadiums at Qatar 2022? Will ordinary people be able to afford to jump on a plane and actually hope to get into a tiny state like Qatar?
It’s probably best to keep an open mind. Maybe rules in Qatar will be relaxed for the tournament. Maybe they’ll spend the next 12 years cleaning up their human rights record and Sepp Blatter really will emerge as the global hero he so craves to be. But at this stage I can’t shake the feeling that Qatar 2022 could be a soulless, unedifying affair and mark the point where the transition of footballers into literal “billionaire’s playthings” is finally completed.
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While I’m also a bit skeptical about how a World Cup in Qatar will turn out, it’s for entirely different reasons. I’m more worried about how a country with 1.5 million people and a weak national football team will actually be to compete with the top twenty teams in the worlds. I worry that Qatar will end up naturalizing 20 foreigners as citizens and you ended up with a team of foreign workers, much like the same people who have been building the Gulf or maintaining people’s homes.
In terms of the claims about sharia law and public drinking, there’s a lot of myths floating around that reflect Western biases and misconceptions (as well as a little bit of resentment for not being awarded the Cup). Brian Whittaker had a good article in the Guardian about the reality of Qatar. In many ways, Qatar is more progressive than many other states that have hosted the Cup. As an American, I know that there’s no chance of every American receiving free health care and having my graduate education paid for. (I also understand perfectly well why Qatar is able to do that and why it does that).
Ultimately, I think we should focus more on Qatar as a football power instead of dredging up Orientalist stereotypes to criticize Qatar.
A little disclaimer: besides being a rabid football fan, I also teach Middle Eastern history…