by Heidi Blake
The reports coming back from Moscow now contained the alarming suggestion that Fedor Radmann and Andreas Abold were in the pay of the Russians. England’s intelligence database already contained unproven suggestions that the two fixers had touted themselves as consultants to various countries, offering to write their official bid books for a vastly inflated fee of millions of dollars and promising to deliver their friend Franz Beckenbauer’s vote in return.19 Anson and his colleagues had disliked Radmann ever since the lobbyist sidled up to them at a bidding convention and told them: ‘You English haven’t got a chance, you . . . aren’t going to play the game.’
That was after the England bid had sent Radmann’s ally Peter Hargitay packing with a flea in his ear for suggesting ways of sweetening the men on the Exco, which had offended the English sense of fair play. It was no skin off England’s nose when Radmann and Abold had gone to work for the Australia 2022 bid20 with Hargitay, but the news that they were allegedly now in the rival Russian camp was a serious blow. The dispatches suggested that Radmann ‘controlled Beckenbauer’s actions’ and that the German football legend was now ‘completely in on the Russian bid’.21 So, if the intelligence was correct, Der Kaiser’s vote belonged to Moscow.
Next came the astonishing claim that another key European voter, the UEFA president Michel Platini, had been given a priceless painting by Pablo Picasso from the Russians, plundered from the country’s state collection in the vaults of the State Hermitage Museum or the Kremlin archives. The painting was said by sources in Moscow to have been given to Platini by Viacheslav Koloskov, a former Russian executive committee member who was working for the 2018 bid. Platini would strenuously deny ever having received any painting from Koloskov22 and no proof emerged to support the claims that such an extraordinary gift had been made.
But then a second Exco voter, Michel D’Hooghe of Belgium, confirmed over dinner with England’s bid officials that he had been given a painting by Koloskov. The operatives in Moscow had sent back reports that Koloskov had given D’Hooghe a valuable landscape painting believed to be from the Russian state collection, in exchange for his World Cup support. When the Belgian voter met Anson and a small group of other senior bid officials over dinner, he told them casually that: ‘My friend Koloskov gave me this very nice painting which is on the landing’ – though he would insist later, when questioned, that the landscape was ‘ugly’ and he had left it in the attic because it was of no value.
None of the intelligence pouring into England’s central database could be proven, but if the hired spies were barking up the right tree, Russia had made significant inroads with three major voters. More worryingly, England’s bid chiefs feared that the men in Moscow had snagged the invaluable backing of the most powerful voter of them all – Sepp Blatter. The FIFA president had been courted by Roman Abramovich – one of the oligarchs alleged to have been tasked by Putin with using his wealth and status in world football to bring the 2018 World Cup to Russia.
The owner of Chelsea FC had swept into the contest during the World Cup in South Africa, and England’s bid officials had watched queasily as the powerful billionaire glad-handed the voters. Rumours, which were never substantiated, began to circulate that he was offering FIFA’s men the use of his private jet. Then, after the bidder’s fair in Johannesburg ahead of the tournament’s kick-off, one of the bid’s executives had spotted Abramovich ushering Blatter upstairs to a private meeting, and his heart sank. The men on England’s bid team knew from Greenberg just how potent an enemy Abramovich could be. The official who saw the oligarch disappearing upstairs with the FIFA president gloomily told his colleagues the news at the bar, adding: ‘We don’t do that, so we are fucked.’ From that point on, all the intelligence suggested that the FIFA president was ‘working very closely’ with Putin and was ‘absolutely committed’ to the Russian bid. Beckenbauer, Platini and D’Hooghe were bad enough, but if Blatter was in Putin’s pocket, England was in serious trouble.
Hakluyt had been called in on the advice of wealthy figures on the bid board, when the manoeuvres of the Russian bid were starting to make England really jumpy in mid-2010. There was no classier private intelligence outfit in the world than this secretive agency, with its plush offices nestled between the grand embassies in Mayfair’s diplomatic quarter. Hakluyt had studied the activities of all 24 FIFA voters, and come to the conclusion that most of the men England were relying on had no intention of voting for its bid in the secret ballot – whatever they might have promised. The whole contest had been rigged top to bottom by bribery and skulduggery. However many hours Anson and Greenberg spent anxiously shuffling the pieces around on their strategy board, they knew they could never compete with the kind of financial muscle the Russians were allegedly throwing around. It was just as England’s spirits plummeted to this all-time low that things suddenly got much worse. With the bidding process reaching its final stages, a new and dreadful spectre emerged on the horizon. Mohamed bin Hammam was prowling Europe on the hunt for an alliance, and now the financial monster that was Qatar loomed menacingly over the contest for the 2018 World Cup.
England’s efforts at espionage had been largely concerned with its direct rivals in the 2018 race, but its operatives around the world had kept a watching brief on the 2022 contest as well. Reports that Qatar was using its vast oil and gas wealth to buy up FIFA’s voters flowed into Wembley thick and fast, and there was a section of England’s intelligence database devoted entirely to the small Gulf state. The Hakluyt report had identified payments made by a Qatari sovereign wealth fund into real-estate companies owned by Worawi Makudi which were developing holiday resorts in Thailand, and the intelligence suggested ‘that was how they bought his vote’. Michel Platini was reportedly under intense political pressure from the then French president, Nicolas Sarkozy, to vote for Qatar in exchange for big commercial investments in France. Then there were claims that the Cypriot voter Marios Lefkaritis was in line for a £27 million land deal from the Qatar investment authority.23 This was all fascinating tittle-tattle, but it was unproven and, as long as Qatar’s activities were confined to the 2022 race, it didn’t make a material difference for England.
That had all changed when news surfaced that Qatar was forming a deadly alliance with Spain–Portugal 2018 which threatened to blow England’s bid out of the water. The rumours that Bin Hammam had sealed a pact with the Spanish voter Ángel María Villar Llona began to circulate as the summer of 2010 drew to a close. The deal was said to be simple. The Qatari had pledged his own vote, and those of his Exco allies Hany Abo Rida and Worawi Makudi, to the Iberian bid. In return, Villar Llona had reportedly promised Qatar his own vote and those of the three South Americans on the Exco – Ricardo Teixeira of Brazil, Julio Grondona of Argentina and the president of the continent’s Conmebol confederation, Nicolas Leoz of Paraguay. If this was true, it was a devastating blow to the England bid team. The deal would guarantee Spain–Portugal seven votes in the first round, and Hakluyt had told England they would be lucky to expect just three. It could knock them out of the contest in one fell swoop.
There was no denying that the rumours had the awful ring of plausibility. England’s bid leaders had known that Bin Hammam was pursuing a collusion deal with one of the 2018 bidders since his breakfast with Clare Kenny Tipton in South Africa. The official line was, of course, that Qatar’s Exco member was not working on behalf of his country’s World Cup bid, but everyone in the England camp knew that was nonsense. They frequently saw Bin Hammam at Hassan Al-Thawadi’s side on the campaign trail, and he had told Anson proudly that he was ‘a soldier in my country’s army’ when they discussed the World Cup contest earlier that year in Kuala Lumpur. England’s worst fears were eventually confirmed when one of the bid’s officials met Makudi to ask for his backing and the Thai Exco member responded regretfully that his 2018 vote was no longer his own. The official reported back that Makudi told him: ‘I am with Bin Hammam and he has told me to vote for Spain–Portugal.’
At the same time, England’s spy network was lighting up with rumours about how Qatar was allegedly sewing up relationships with the South Americans who came as part of Villar Llona’s bloc. The unproven suggestion logged in the database was that the Gulf state was offering ‘government-to-government deals’ to the voters’ countries in exchange for their support. One big allegation was that Qatar had agreed to underwrite the losses of the Argentine Football Association after a botched rights deal in order to win favour with Grondona. The Wall Street Journal would later report that Qatar had paid the astonishing figure of $78.4 million to bail out the country’s FA in order to secure Grondona’s vote – a claim which was hotly denied by all parties. Another was that Qatar had agreed to meet any deficit on the cost of the infrastructure spending on the Brazil World Cup to secure the support of the country’s voter, Teixeira, who has also denied any wrongdoing. It was impossible to prove that votes were being bought, but there was no doubt that the Gulf state was investing in South America. In June 2010, Qatar Airways had launched heavily subsidised daily services to Brazil and Argentina. The Qatar FA planned to host a friendly match between the two countries in Doha that same year, which would generate big payments to both football federations.
The corridors of FIFA were abuzz with speculation about how Qatar was locking down the Latin vote, but no one knew the story of how Bin Hammam and Villar Llona had forged their alliance in a string of secret talks in the late summer and early autumn of 2010. These liaisons, arranged by Najeeb Chirakal, were coupled with attempts by the Qatari to woo the men in South America who came as part of the package with Villar Llona, and were intriguingly tied up with Bin Hammam’s final meetings ahead of the ballot with Africa’s most powerful FIFA voter. At the start of August, Bin Hammam had begun speaking on the telephone with the Spanish voter’s son, Gorka Villar, a young sports lawyer destined to become the legal director of the South American football confederation, Conmebol.24 Days after first speaking to Gorka, Bin Hammam emailed a letter to Villar Llona senior, the contents of which were later deleted by his staff. At the end of the month, Villar Llona wrote back, gushingly welcoming an ‘ambitious’ coaching deal that had apparently been proposed between Spain and Qatar.
Meanwhile, Bin Hammam was scheduling a meeting with South America’s most powerful football chief. The president of Conmebol, the lordly Paraguayan Exco member Nicolas Leoz, was one of the four voters who came as part of the Latin package. Two days after first speaking to Gorka Villar, Bin Hammam wrote cordially to Leoz reminding him of a conversation they had had in South Africa and offering to visit him in his country’s capital, Asuncion, between 17 and 20 August. Leoz responded warmly: ‘It was a pleasure seeing you in the World Cup as well, I have enjoyed very much each moment of it. It’s so good news that you are coming to Paraguay!’
Bin Hammam let Leoz know that he would be travelling to Asuncion with his voting ally Hany Abo Rida in tow. The Egyptian was in Doha for the secret gas summit with Makudi and Joe Sim directly beforehand, and he would accompany Bin Hammam on the long flight across Africa and the South Atlantic to South America. Mohammed Meshadi was also scheduled to come along for the trip. Leoz invited the group to fly to Porto Alegre in Brazil to join him for a match in the South American Cup, and then share his private jet back to Asuncion where Conmebol has its headquarters. The Paraguayan football chief was in bountiful spirits, and offered to pick up the whole party’s hotel tab at the city’s five-star Sheraton. Bin Hammam and Abo Rida were to have the best suites, as befitted FIFA royalty, while the lowlier Meshadi was booked into a single room.
The party was on track for a wonderful trip to the tropics, and then – suddenly – Bin Hammam pulled out. The night before the group were supposed to set off for Porto Alegre, Chirakal emailed Leoz’s aide. ‘You are aware that he has regretfully cancelled his trip to Paraguay and Brazil. I write to extend my gratitude and appreciation for your friendship and all kind assistance and help offered in facilitating Mr Bin Hammam’s trip.’ It was unlike Bin Hammam to renege on his arrangements – especially with the Exco voters he was working so hard to win favour with. But Leoz needn’t feel snubbed. His FIFA colleague may have stepped back, but a far more powerful Qatari was coming to Asuncion instead.
The Emiri jet touched down in the Paraguayan capital on 18 August, and Sheikh Hamad stepped out onto the airstrip in the gold-trimmed finery of his royal bisht cape. The ruler of the world’s richest country had flown in to coordinate an investment in a planned gas pipeline running through Paraguay, Uruguay and Bolivia. It was one of the biggest trade deals in Paraguay’s history. The Emir’s cavalcade carried him into the heart of Asuncion and up the manicured garden drive of Palacio de los López, the marble fortress which served as the seat of government, where he met the country’s president, Fernando Lugo. Sources would later whisper that the Emir had also met Leoz secretly during his visit,25 and unproven claims abounded that the trip had been designed to secure his World Cup vote. But Bin Hammam’s mysteriously aborted visit to Paraguay, scheduled for the same day, never came to light – until now.
The Qatari football boss was busy at the end of August arranging a trip with his country’s official bid committee to see the CAF president, Issa Hayatou, in Cameroon. The bid team flew to Yaounde with Bin Hammam on the Emir’s jet, accompanied by the ever-faithful Meshadi. The party met Hayatou on 3 September, and gave the overlord of African football a private presentation on Qatar’s bid. It went well, and another meeting was quickly scheduled with the CAF president – this time in Cairo. Bin Hammam got on the phone to Gorka Villar soon after they returned, on 11 September, and it was agreed that his father ought to be in the room too. ‘Mr Ángel Maria Villar asked Mr Bin Hammam if he can join the meeting in Cairo, so please check with President [Hayatou] if he agree this,’ Chirakal enquired of the CAF president’s aides in an email.
No objection was raised, so Villar Llona was flown into Cairo with his close aide Eduard Dervishaj to join Bin Hammam and Meshadi in the meeting with Hayatou. The Spanish voter – a former star player for his national team – was lobbying passionately to drum up as many votes as he could for the Iberian bid as the contest reached its fevered conclusion, and he knew how much sway Bin Hammam had in Africa. The chance to get in on the Qatari’s private meeting with Hayatou was a golden opportunity to fly the flag for the Spain–Portugal cause. Two weeks later, Bin Hammam invited Villa Llona to Doha for further discussions. He was so keen to see his Spanish ally that he chartered a plane at a cost of tens of thousands of dollars to make sure Villar Llona could get to Doha and then fly on to another meeting in Belarus the next day.
By September, the deal between Qatar and Spain was an open secret within FIFA. Everyone was talking about it. If it could be proved, it was an outright breach of FIFA’s rules and both bids could be thrown out of the contest. But England’s bid leaders despaired: they could see no way of exposing a private pact between two men about the way they would vote in a secret ballot. Then, while all the countries in the race were fretting about the implications of a deal between Villar Llona and Bin Hammam, England received news that an even more frightening alliance was being formed. If their network of spies was to be believed, Qatar had teamed up with Russia to create a double-headed bidding behemoth that could not be beaten.
The men hired to spy for England in Moscow had sent intelligence back to Wembley that Russia and Qatar had traded votes through a massive bilateral deal that gave the Gulf state access to vast untapped gas reserves in Siberia. The spies said an ‘extremely well-placed source’ had told them the gas deal was ‘significantly related to the World Cup’. Their hypothesis was that Bin Hammam had agreed to back Spain–Portugal in order to reel in the Latin voting bloc in the full knowledge that the Iberian bid wouldn’t survive through to the final rounds of voting. They said Bin Hammam’s real intention was to back Russia in the crucial final stages of the ballot that would decide on the next World Cup hosts.
The fresh intelligence about
collusion between the Russian and Qatari bids centred on a visit to Doha in April 2010 by Igor Sechin, Russia’s deputy prime minister and the country’s most powerful oil magnate. Sechin was there to discuss a big joint venture between Qatar and Russia to develop gas fields in the Arctic wastes of the Yamal Peninsula. England’s intelligence operatives reported strong suspicions that there were also ‘other items on the agenda, of which the World Cup was one’. Was it a coincidence that in the same month Sechin had visited Doha for intergovernmental talks, the Russia 2018 bid delegation had also been in Qatar visiting Bin Hammam to discuss the World Cup contest? In a letter to the Qatari the next month, the Russian FIFA Exco member Vitaly Mutko had written: ‘I was told about the friendliest and most candid discussion which you had with my bid colleagues. I am happy that leaders of our countries enjoy very good relations.’ Bin Hammam had immediately forwarded Mutko’s letter by email to the bid chief Hassan al-Thawadi.
