If Communist China can deal for the Olympics, then Qatar buying the World Cup shouldn't raise an eyebrow, should it?
After all, what's a few human-rights violations compared to the genocide, reckless industrialization, and authoritarian rule of Red China? Neither of the world's two most corrupt athletic organizations, the IOC and FIFA, was going to say no to the CCP or the House of Thani--and their convoys of Brinks trucks.
Money talks. It's fluent in every language, and all dialects. And the million or so World Cup tourists expected to arrive in Qatar in the next few weeks, along with the billions of futbol fans worldwide expected to watch on TV, will be treated to a manufactured show in a manufactured oasis unlike any other. One that rises out of the Persian Gulf like a Roger Dean fever dream.
Doha, the capital and home to roughly 80 percent of that country's 2.8 million people, represents the ruling monarchy's futuristic vision of transforming a once-quiet Arabian cul-de-sac--albeit one sitting on piles of renewable cash--into a global destination.
And that's just what has happened. Since the discovery of oil in 1940 and independence declared from Great Britain in 1971, the country has been transformed. If there's a more visually striking city on the planet than Doha, the images have yet to reach Arkansas.
Though traditional Middle Eastern mores remain in place--we wouldn't recommend coming out in Qatar--the emirate's vast commercialization has softened it to Western sensibilities. Or at least so says its emir, who has denounced "fabrications and double standards" in the Western press, which dares to sometimes criticize him. And you know how the all-too-powerful hate to be criticized by the lowly press, where it is allowed. ("They have vilified me, they have crucified me, yes, they have even criticized me."--Mayor Daley the First of Chicago)
Not that the soccer federation or the host country want it noised about, but the flip side to Qatar's image-driven transformation isn't as pretty as the new modern city of Doha. Which was realized on the backs of migrant workers, of which Amnesty International estimates there are 1.7 million, mostly from Asia and Africa.
And most are indentured servants in everything but name. Human rights organizations have long decried abuses against expat workers that have included deaths, and a 2011 report from none other than the U.S. State Department cited violations including beatings, withholding of payment, restrictions on freedom of movement, confiscation of documents, arbitrary detention, even sexual assault.
But . . . it's . . . so . . . pretty.
Not so much for the workers living a dozen to a two-room flat outside Doha's preferred addresses. Or the ones living in makeshift desert camps toiling like Egyptian slaves of old to build the stadiums required to host the Cup. (Stadiums that likely won't be used again.)
If only one's good side is photographed, who's to say there's a bad side?
Regardless, the World Cup rolls on, and those Brinks trucks will be busy. And coincidentally, far separate from the money, the FIFA president has urged fans to let the sport "take the center stage" and "not allow football to be dragged into every ideological or political battle that exists."
His critics would say that they aren't dragging soccer into "every" ideological or political battle. Only the battles that can be won by withholding their support/money/viewing of the World Cup this year.
FIFA bigs would tell us not to be that way.
It's a Christmas World Cup, after all, and Doha is a sight to behold.