Is Sepp Blatter’s 'exit' a ploy to kill off Qatar 2022?

Oh, the irony. Sepp Blatter never wanted Qatar to be awarded the World Cup and did not vote for the minuscule, sun-baked emirate on 2 December 2010. But, in the eyes of the general public, his name will now remain associated with the most absurd decision ever taken in the history of any sports governing body: awarding the greatest tournament of them all to a country that was patently unfit to host it, so much so that FIFA’s own inspectors had given it a ‘high risk’ rating; an absolute monarchy with a dubious human rights record, with no footballing heritage and no footballing future (unless the migrant workers who compose close to 90% of its population are enfranchised, which is about as likely as Qatar repealing its anti-homosexuality laws – which punish sex between consenting adult males to up to seven years’ imprisonment). But, as patriarch of the ‘football family’, Blatter had no choice but to accept the decision of his Executive Committee, as ugly a cast of crooks as was ever gathered in Zurich’s FIFA House, the majority of which has now been weeded out by various law agencies and FIFA’s own investigators.

Oh, the irony. To think that the man who is routinely described as a dictator, a Machiavelli, an all-controlling villain, was unable to stop his supposed ‘cronies’ and ’henchmen’ from favouring the one country he didn’t want to get anywhere near to the World Cup. He was genuinely powerless to do so. The Executive Committee was and remains a motley collection of individuals put forward by their Confederations (which, astonishingly, are not members of FIFA – only national associations are), which is to say that Blatter found himself presiding over a cabinet of men who primarily intended to serve the interests of their patrons as well as their own. As if David Cameron had to make do with a coalition in which places had to be found for representatives of every political party, from the National Front to the Socialist Workers Party.

Yet Qatar was the issue that would not go away. German and British media didn’t let go and refused to be cowed by multiple legal threats, none of which were enacted. My own magazine, France Football, didn’t either. All of us reported on alleged cases of corruption, highlighted the inanity of holding a summer competition in the Gulf long before FIFA came to the same conclusion and moved it to November-December, creating havoc in the football calendar as a consequence.

The world finally woke up to the horrifying conditions in which the migrants brought in – four flights from Kathmandu to Doha every day -  to build the infrastructure needed for the tournament lived, and died, in their hundreds, possibly thousands, in the emirate. New corruption and collusion stories kept emerging regularly, until the burden of evidence became so overwhelming that very few could seriously doubt that the bidding process for the 2018 and 2022 World Cups had – at least – been deeply flawed. Blatter knew it. Did he not confide that giving the World Cup to Qatar had been ‘a mistake’?

But, all the while, he was acting as the fireman rushing to extinguish yet another blaze started by his own people, losing his credibility in the process, and what remained of his reputation in the Western world. Not elsewhere. Not in Asia. Not in Africa. In fact, not even in all of Europe, as it is believed that no less than 18 of UEFA’s 53 voting member associations, including France, Spain and Russia, preferred him to Prince Ali, the candidate put forward and publicly supported by Michel Platini. Extraordinarily – to Western eyes -, should Blatter change his mind (who knows with him?) and decide that he won’t step down after all in four or six months’ time, when the Extraordinary Electoral Congress he’s called takes place, he’d stand a better chance of being elected than any of the potential candidates to his succession who’ve been mentioned so far.

After all, not once did he use the word ‘resign’ in his dramatic press conference on Tuesday.

A tempting hypothesis is that, by announcing his departure when nobody was expecting it (the fifteen journalists who had stayed in Zurich after the election thought that Blatter would say that Jerome Valcke had been relieved of his functions), the wily old fox has given himself a free hand to do what some say he’s longed to do for four and a half years: to clean up the house he’s looked after with a loose hand and a forgiving eye for decades, which probably means re-running the vote to award the 2022 World Cup, which is over seven years away.

This is by no means impossible. Should the ‘smoking gun’ be found, the incontrovertible proof that the bid regulations had been infringed upon to such an extent that the 2 December 2010 vote was invalid, FIFA’s Executive Committee would have the power to enforce a new ballot without fearing an unimaginably costly lawsuit. I am of the opinion that this ‘smoking gun’ has already been found, given the extensive revelations of multiple secret payments to football officials by the Qatari then-president of AFC and member of FIFA’s ExCo Mohammed bin Hammam, described by the Qataris themselves as ‘the greatest asset’ in their bid – before they strenuously denied that the now-disgraced, banned-for-life bin Hammam played any role, official or otherwise, in their campaign. A matter of perspective, perhaps; or common sense.

In any case, the 2022 World Cup bid has proved a PR disaster for the emirate. Seeking to acquire ‘soft power’ through sport was a clever, ambitious, imaginative strategy, which was implemented with considerable zest and skill. But its end result has been Qatar being slaughtered day after day after day in the world’s media, and becoming the No.1 target of human and labour rights organizations, whose indignation at the treatment of migrant workers there shows no sign of abating – quite the opposite, in fact, as recent statements by the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) and other organizations have shown. It is not good for business.

As a matter of fact, Qatari shares had their worst drop at the Doha Stock Exchange for over two years when the American authorities published their indictments last week. There are many people of influence in the emirate who, with good reason, believe that their rulers’ gamble on football might not be worth the hassle in the longer term, and that a graceful exit would make good sense. After all, a number of Qatar’s neighbouring countries whose regimes are far less enlightened (a relative word) than Sheikh Tamim’s have escaped the unremitting attention and censure which have focused on the emirate, for no other reason that it is supposed to host a World Cup. Strangely, the current turmoil might offer them an elegant way to quit the game before it is not worth quitting it anymore.

I’m not saying this will happen, as no-one, bar American and Swiss investigators, is quite sure of what will happen next. The only thing we can be sure of is that it will not be good. For anyone.