The Ugly Game: The Qatari Plot to Buy the World Cup

by Heidi Blake

  After the Russian speeches and back-slapping, the auditorium hushed again. Bin Hammam scanned the line of executive committee members along the front row. Had they stayed true in the final round? He was quietly confident, but nothing was ever certain in the shifting quicksands of football politics. By now, Blatter had torn open the envelope and was fiddling inside to make sure he pulled out the card with the winning name on the correct side. ‘The winner,’ he began, ‘to organise the FIFA two twenty-two World Cup is . . .,’ and he momentarily flashed the name on the card to the world’s television audience before proclaiming: ‘Qatar!’

  The royal family erupted in cheers, leaping to their feet and throwing their arms in the air. The young Sheikh Mohammed thrust up a punch of delight before being rugby tackled from behind in a jubilant hug by his brother Sheikh Tamim, the country’s future ruler. Their father, the Emir, was clapping vigorously, his face a picture of delight. At last, he had his big cake. Seeing his sons overcome with rapture, he strode across and wrapped his huge arms around the young Sheikh Mohammed, almost squeezing all the air out of the slender youth. The Emir spun round and was about to kiss his wife when he saw someone else standing there, waiting patiently.

  It was Bin Hammam. He had sidled quietly up to the third row amid the uproar, and was keeping a discreet distance from the royal celebrations. In the past, he had stood head bowed in the presence of his mighty ruler, but today he was a national hero and the Emir reached across without thinking to give the architect of Qatar’s victory a warm and thankful hug. Next, Bin Hammam stepped up to Sheikh Mohammed and kissed him on the cheek. He marvelled internally at what he had achieved. Qatar had won with 14 votes to eight – trouncing its final rival, the USA. The weight of anxiety he had borne on his shoulders for more than two years had lifted and he could at last relax into the happy certainty that he had made his country, and his ruler, proud. The World Cup was coming to the desert and he, Mohamed, had made it happen.

  In the row below Bill Clinton was smiling and shaking hands, but his companion Gulati now looked more like an angry bird than a sparrow, as he glowered across the room at Warner. Qatar’s royal family poured onto the stage and Bin Hammam was mobbed as he returned to his seat by passing members of the bid team following the royals into the limelight. An emotional Sheikh Mohammed was at the microphone. ‘Thank you for believing in change,’ he said breathlessly. ‘Thank you for believing in expanding the game, thank you for giving Qatar a chance, and we will not let you down! You will be proud of us, you will be proud of the Middle East and I will promise you this!’ The tiny Gulf state had done the impossible. Out in the streets of Doha, cars were hooting their horns and flags were being unfurled in the streets. Was the World Cup really coming to Qatar? Nobody could quite believe it.

  After the stage had emptied and the crowd had spilled outside into the freezing evening, Chris Eaton had been left in the hall with a few members of his security team. They were checking the empty room to make sure nothing had been left behind. At the podium, Eaton came across the wax sealed envelope and the card with Qatar’s name on it, and his eyes lit up. He took a quick look from side to side, then slid the card under his jacket.

  Bin Hammam had taken a back seat in Zurich, allowing the royals to glory in his achievement, but his friends throughout world football knew he was the true architect of Qatar’s triumph. He was flooded with emails of congratulation and gratitude from the football bosses whose support he had secured over the past two years. Some could barely wait for the celebrations to subside before queuing up for their rewards.

  The day after the vote, Seedy Kinteh emailed: ‘On behalf of the Gambia Football Family and indeed on my own Humble self to warmly congratulate you for winning the FIFA Award to host the World Cup in 2022 in your beautiful country Qatar.’ He followed up with a message to Bin Hammam’s assistant a few days later. ‘I write to find out about the progress of my appeal concerning the Vehicle. I have already got in my possession a colosal sum of ten thousand Us Dollars . . . and any assistance will be of immense value to me.’ Kinteh said he needed the car to travel to football projects in the Gambian countryside.

  Nicholas Musonye, the general secretary of the Council of East and Central Africa Football Associations (CECAFA), wrote to Bin Hammam: ‘This is a glorious moment to all of us in our zone and we congratulate you for the hard work and all the efforts you put in this bid. Your many years of hard work have been rewarded and you will go down in history books for what you have achieved for Asia and the people of Qatar.’ Two days later, he forwarded CECAFA’s bank details to accompany a request for $200,000 to fund a tournament in Tanzania and the money was paid.32

  Tidiani Median Niambele, president of the Mali federation, extended his congratulations to Qatar ‘and especially you personally’ for winning the World Cup ballot. Bin Hammam replied: ‘I take this opportunity to extend my gratitude and appreciation for your support and I am confident that with your continued support Qatar can stage an amazing and ever greatest World Cup in 2022.’ And then Gu Jian Ming, president of the Chengdu FA wrote to say: ‘Allow me to express my congratulations on Qatar’s success in the bid to host the 2022 Football World Cup, which I believe cannot be separated from the great efforts you have made.’

  In public, Bin Hammam took little credit for Qatar’s stunning achievement, but he felt it was safe to do so with his African friends who had helped out with his campaign. When Izetta Wesley, the head of the Liberian football federation got in touch to say ‘Dear Brother . . . Congratulation for winning your World Cup Bid,’ Bin Hammam wrote back acknowledging both his own role and his debt to his African supporters. ‘Thank you very much for your kind greetings,’ he wrote. ‘I would not have succeeded if not for the support from friends and believers like you.’

  No one was more overawed by what Bin Hammam had done than his son, Hamad. The day after the victory was announced, the student sent his father a heartfelt letter. ‘Dear Dad, Yesterday was the best day of my life,’ he wrote. ‘It was better than any college acceptance letter, any official school reward and any job or internship offer. If I was an actor and I won an Oscar, it still wouldn’t be the best feeling; no moment like yesterday’s announcement made me happier. And I’ve always been proud of you, and I thought that it wasn’t possible to be proud of you more. But I was wrong. I’m not even more proud, I’m honored. I’m the luckiest person in the world to be your son. I am so lucky that sometimes people say, “You look like Mohamed bin Hammam,” or, “You have his eyes.” I would be lucky to be, not half the man you are, but quarter of the man you are. And I wish I could leave a legacy in our country as strong as yours.

  ‘You’re a trendsetter and, most importantly, you helped make history for our people and for our family. Your efforts to get us the world cup finally put mom, you, myself and my brothers and sisters on the map; it put the citizens of Qatar on the map. And, I think it is safe for me to say that I speak on behalf of all Qataris when I say that without you, and, of course, His Highness the Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, his outspoken first lady Sheikha Moza bint Nasser Al Misned – perhaps one of the most incredible women and most influential persons I would love to meet – and His Excellency Sheikh Mohammed bin Hamad Al Thani, a remarkable man, and, of course, the entire Qatar 2022 Bid Team. This can’t be happened without you, we appreciate your efforts.

  ‘And to speak for myself, I love you, and you are my idol. I may not want to be involved in the field of sports by the time I finish college, but I would love to be the reflection of you. One day, I will speak French, Spanish, German and Hebrew for you so I can show people that I was raised in golden, open-minded arms. Just like you showed the world, I will show Qatar that I, too, can be of great significance. And I will owe it all to you. Love you always, Hamad bin Mohammed.’

  To Hamad’s surprise, his letter was later emailed back to him by Najeeb Chirakal with an instruction to edit it and resend it to his father. Hamad was told that it was unseemly to have claimed s
uch a big share of the victory for the Bin Hammam tribe. He must alter his words to give more prominence to the role played by the royal family and official Qatar bid committee, and mention his father’s contribution only as a secondary factor at the end. Once the letter was re-sent, Hamad was told, it was going to be published on the AFC website. He glumly agreed to do as he had been asked.

  The next morning, on 6 December, the letter caused a stir among the assistants in Bin Hammam’s offices at the AFC.

  ‘Check out P’s blog,’ Jenny Be messaged Michelle Chai. ‘He is right about growing up in the golden open arms . . . more like golden, diamond studded arms.’

  Chai was tickled. ‘Hahahahahaha. But son is right . . . world cup was his doing . . . people can say what they want about the bid but he did it.’

  ‘Yes, he did it.’

  ‘I think he is proud too,’ Chai added.

  ‘He should be,’ responded Be. ‘That’s why he published the letter.’ After a pause, she ventured: ‘I kinda pity the son.’

  ‘Why ah?’

  ‘Coz he has to write to his father to tell him how he feels,’ wrote Be. ‘No time even when they are in the same city.’ Later, she told her friend: ‘Bugger, I have more than 500 emails in my inbox to clear, all congratulating our boss. They started to contact me when they couldn’t get to the boss. Yesterday I had to switch my phone off to get some sleep.’

  ‘Wah . . . euphoria not died yet,’ said Chai. ‘When you think about it, this must be his biggest legacy,’ she went on. ‘I mean dreams of millions and millions of people.’

  ‘Yes,’ Be agreed. ‘Coz he may not be there in 2022 but this is something he contributed to his country and to Asia.’

  ‘I hope the Qatari people and the QFA people and the bid team realises it as well,’ said Chai. ‘Realises and don’t forget.’

  ‘Yeah, and he said that they do, so am happy for that,’ Be said.

  ‘Sometimes people forget too easily,’ Chai cautioned.

  ‘Yeah, especially when you have those who don’t blink an eye before they take others’ credits,’ said Be, suddenly incensed at the prospect.

  ‘Yeap,’ said Chai.

  ‘Let him enjoy his moments,’ Be said firmly. ‘He is a hero.’

  For all the hundreds of congratulatory messages that had flooded in from Bin Hammam’s supporters, no praise was quite so sweet as that of an adversary. Qatar’s triumph had humiliated Peter Hargitay, the master PR guru and lobbyist who had warned Bin Hammam two years earlier the Gulf state didn’t stand a chance. Now the boot was on the other foot. All Hargitay’s machinations on behalf of the Australian bid had managed to produce just one supporter. Since Hargitay had helped the Australians part with tens of millions of dollars on their campaign, that measly return for their investment was a contender for the most expensive single vote in history. Hargitay had waited four weeks until New Year’s Eve before sending a long email to Bin Hammam. His message bristled with bitterness, but Hargitay could not conceal his admiration for the masterful way Bin Hammam had manoeuvred behind the scenes.

  ‘I have reflected upon the – many good – times I spent in your company over the years, and the remarkable changes of your varying positions,’ he wrote. ‘I recall the one afternoon we spent talking for several hours in the lobby of the Mandarin. And I admit that some of the changes in your positions left me stupefied, while others were clear: you have always forged alliances where the expected outcome would justify the choices you make. And of course you have always harvested, as you should, when the time to do so was opportune. Clearly, this philosophy – not a new one by any means – has generated the kinds of results you have wanted, and you must be pleased with that. And I commend you for your remarkable achievements, which, in the context of Qatar, are plain spectacular.

  ‘I, for one, can only observe and acknowledge the stupefying achievements I witnessed by your hands, mind and spirit. When we first met, years ago, there was one Mohamed bin Hammam who was soft-spoken, discreet and by no means prepared to challenge this, that or the other. Not openly, nor quietly for much of the time. Today, the Mohamed that is, has become a leader who goes the route of many leaders.

  ‘Your strategic “savoir faire” and, more so, the tactical savvy that won your country the World Cup bid is spectacular. There can only be admiration for the way you handled the mine-field of changing loyalties. But your modus operandi, based on years of experience, combined with intimate knowledge of the players on the chess set of group dynamics, and your ability to offer what others could not, was a fine lesson in Machiavellian expertise, combined with cultural history – both of which combined, generated the results you wanted to achieve. Accept my respectful congratulations for that. Well done, remarkably executed, utterly accomplished . . . As always, your Peter.’

  Seventeen

  No Pause on the Path of Treason

  The air of elation was still palpable on the streets of Doha as the leaders of world football swept in at the start of January 2011. The city had burst into a state of jubilation when Qatar’s victory in the World Cup race was announced – with every street, souk and square packed with revelling crowds waving the national flag, singing and tooting pink vuvuzelas in a blizzard of glittering confetti. Now, a month later, Doha was gearing up to show the football world what it was made of as FIFA’s gilded elite swarmed into town for the Asian Football Confederation’s annual congress ahead of the long-awaited Asian Cup. The giant clock counting down to the Asian tournament on the Corniche had nearly reached zero and now the cheering crowds were out in force again. They lined the streets to greet the trophy that had been flown into Doha and handed ceremoniously to Mohamed bin Hammam that morning, and was now being was held aloft on an open-topped bus tour of the city.

  The president of Asian football was basking in the glory of the crowning achievement of his life, but he could not afford to pause. The World Cup that his country had won the rights to host was still 11 years away, and anything could happen in the intervening years. It was essential that he held on to his ruling position within FIFA so that he could continue to guard Qatar’s interests. Bin Hammam had promised back in August that, rather than running for the FIFA presidency this June, he would back Sepp Blatter to remain in office and stand for re-election as head of the AFC instead. With the World Cup safely in the bag, hanging on to the presidency of his confederation was his main focus as the election at the congress on 6 January neared. The urgency of shoring up his position felt increasingly pressing because Blatter’s latest manoeuvres had started to raise his hackles.

  The FIFA president, who had once seemed so supportive of Qatar’s World Cup dream, appeared to have been severely discomfited by the country’s improbable victory. Bin Hammam had shown the extent of his power within world football by persuading FIFA’s rulers to send their prized tournament to the desert, and now his advisors were warning that Blatter was on the warpath. The sly old fox had been glad to assure the Emir of his support for an apparently impossible project, so the reasoning went, but Qatar’s eventual victory had caught him completely off guard.

  Blatter was an arch pragmatist who could see better than anyone that the tournament in the Gulf was going to be a commercial, popular and sporting flop for FIFA. He wouldn’t like that prospect one bit, but what would stick in his craw more than anything was the fact that Bin Hammam had managed to pull off the impossible stunt right under his nose and, in the end, without his support. If his old Qatari ally was capable of this, he was capable of anything. One close advisor warned Bin Hammam that he may have ‘provoked a death penalty by collecting those fourteen votes’. From now on, his counsellors cautioned, the president would make it his sole mission ‘to destroy Mohamed bin Hammam’.33

  The first real sign of trouble came four days before the AFC congress, when Blatter announced unilaterally that he would set up an anti-corruption committee to police world football’s governing body. The ‘World Cup votes for sale’ story in The Sunday Times continued
to cast a long shadow over the bidding contest. Blatter had told the Swiss newspaper SonntagsZeitung that the independent committee, which he seemed to have dreamed up on his own over Christmas, would consist of seven to nine members ‘not only from sport but from politics, finance, business and culture’. He said it would ‘strengthen our credibility and give us a new image in terms of transparency,’ adding: ‘I will take care of it personally, to ensure there is no corruption at FIFA.’

  Bin Hammam was horrified. What was the president thinking? It was bad enough that he had given the ethics committee oversight of the bidding process and brought in that meddlesome investigator Chris Eaton to stick his nose into everyone else’s business. How dare he announce that he was going to bring in another bunch of strangers to police the running of world football, without even mentioning it to his executive committee in advance, let alone consulting them? Several of FIFA’s rulers were seriously agitated by Blatter’s shock manoeuvre, but no one was more incensed than Bin Hammam.

  The Qatari fired a first return salvo on the eve of the AFC congress, saying tersely in a public interview that: ‘Some of FIFA’s acts I do not approve of or agree with.’ He went on: ‘I am a member of the FIFA executive committee and we never discussed this idea inside the executive committee – I read about it in the media. I don’t appreciate that tomorrow we go to a meeting of FIFA and we find already that a committee has been formed, that members have been appointed and the code, or whatever, has been decided . . . If we are serious, there has to be a serious discussion within the executive committee first.’ Never had Bin Hammam spoken such stern words about his master’s deeds in public. He was livid. Blatter was jeopardising everything he had worked so hard to achieve. When asked if he thought the time had come for a change at the highest level of FIFA, he replied darkly: ‘A change is a demand for an improvement really. I cannot be one hundred per cent frank with you, but I think FIFA needs lot of improvement.’