The World Cup of woe

The world's biggest football tournament was meant to be a moment of triumph for the tiny emirate, but instead it sparked a chorus of global criticism. Has Qatar already lost at geopolitical football before a kick has been taken?

- Patrick Wintour

Far from acting as a bridge between different cultures, the first football World Cup hosted by an Arab Muslim country has ended up mired in recrimination and ill-feeling, less a celebration of sport's soft power and reach than a display of its limits.

Instead of burnishing Qatar's image in the west in these globalised but polarised times, it looks to have tarnished it. Inside the small, fabulously wealthy state, which plays an extremely active role on the world stage, the drumbeat of criticism is no longer interpreted as perplexing and frustrating, but instead as something born of jealousy and racism.

In a speech to the Shura council, the state's legislative body, on 25 October, Qatar's ruler, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani, expressed a degree of bitterness about what he saw as a decade of relentless attacks. The emir did not quite say he wished his country was shot of the whole jamboree, but he certainly sounded as if it was through with apologising to westerners.

"Since we won the honour of hosting the World Cup, Qatar has been subjected to an unprecedented campaign that no host country has ever faced," he said. "We initially dealt with the matter in good faith and even considered that some criticism was positive and useful, helping us to develop aspects that need to be developed. But it soon became clear to us that the campaign was continuing, expanding and including fabrication and double standards, until it reached a level of ferocity that made many questions, unfortunately, [its] reasons and motives." 

Qatar has come in for severe criticism on a number of fronts, but in particular for its treatment of migrant workers, anti-LGBTQ+ laws, and restrictions on freedom of speech.