The timestamps tell the story. At 2.12am AEDT on Thursday, October 5, 2023, FIFA made an important and unexpected announcement. By email decree, the sole candidates as host of the 2030 men’s World Cup were anointed: Spain, Portugal and Morocco.
And also, bizarrely, Argentina, Paraguay and Uruguay. To mark the World Cup’s 100-year anniversary, the first three games would be held in those three South American nations, and the rest across the Iberian region and North Africa.
That wasn’t all. FIFA also announced the details of a concurrent bidding process for the 2034 World Cup, which was being brought forward by about three years. And because of FIFA’s rotation policy, which says the tournament can’t be hosted by the same confederation more than once in 12 years – and since FIFA’s clever 2030 trick took not only UEFA off the table, but the South American and African confederations, too – that meant it would have to be staged in Asia or Oceania. Or both.
On face value, this appeared to be excellent news for Football Australia. Only two months removed from the 2023 FIFA Women’s World Cup, the federation had been thinking seriously about having another crack at hosting a men’s World Cup – the biggest sporting event on the planet. FIFA officials were said to have been blown away by the Women’s World Cup’s raging success, and with co-hosts New Zealand on board, a bid for the 48-team men’s version was being explored.
The pain of Australia’s failed attempt to host the 2022 World Cup, led by Frank Lowy – the ugly public wrangling with the AFL over stadium availability, the hackneyed cartoon kangaroo, the single vote garnered from FIFA’s executive committee – is still institutionally raw for FA. But suddenly, a viable pathway seemed to be opening up.
The catch? Any interested groups had just 25 days to confirm their intention to bid, FIFA declared – a staggeringly short timeframe.
Then, at 3.11am AEDT, another announcement. The Saudi Arabian Football Federation (SAFF) announced its intention to bid, making it the first out of the gate for 2034. Australia had not even woken up.
Saudi Arabia’s interest in hosting a World Cup had already been well-established – but only as one of three nations, together with Greece and Egypt, which had announced a bid for 2030 the year before. That one was scrapped when it became clear Spain, Portugal and Morocco were in the box seat.
Now, suddenly, somehow, the Saudis were ready to go solo.
And then, at 3.32am AEDT – just 21 minutes later – one more email. This one was from the Asian Football Confederation, and contained a declaration of “full support” for the SAFF bid from president Sheikh Salman bin Ebrahim Al Khalifa. He praised FIFA’s processes and said the “entire Asian football family” would stand united in support for the Saudis.
Australia wasn’t explicitly mentioned, but that would include them, too.
“We were caught on the hop,” said one of four sources with direct knowledge of FA’s manoeuvring at the time, who spoke to this masthead on the condition of anonymity due to political sensitivities.
In the early hours of Thursday morning (AEDT), an extraordinary meeting of the FIFA Congress confirmed Saudi Arabia as the host nation for the 2034 World Cup. Held virtually, all 2011 member nations, including Australia, will be asked to vote on its bid. It is also the only bid.
‘You’ve had your turn’
The writing appeared to be on the wall for FA when the AFC came out in public support of the Saudi bid, but it wasn’t going to die wondering.
Plans for a three-way bid between Australia, New Zealand and Indonesia had been previously floated – those discussions were immediately resumed, as confirmed by Erick Thohir, the billionaire chairman of Indonesia’s football federation, who said Malaysia and Singapore were interested, too. There was enough will between the ASEAN nations to move forward with an intention to bid, sources say.
But FA’s decision to initially go against the so-called “Asian football family” did not go down well. Through political back-channels – and then, soon enough, in full public view– FIFA and the AFC made it clear that any bid from that part of the world would not get up.
FA knew the Saudis would have a head start, but not to this degree. The national body had pushed back months earlier on FIFA’s plans to have Saudi Arabia’s tourism board, Visit Saudi, sponsor the Women’s World Cup, a move that sources say FIFA president Gianni Infantino did not take well. This wasn’t quite retribution; the Saudis would have hosted in 2034 regardless, since they had over 120 nations pledging support within 72 hours of announcing their intent to bid, more than enough to win a vote. But there was still a political price to pay for FA, which had clearly been kept in the dark.
“You’ve had your turn,” FA was effectively told by high-ranking officials according to one source, referring to the Women’s World Cup. Indeed, during bidding for that tournament, Australia actually benefited from the influence of the Asian football family when Japan was encouraged to pull out so the confederation could unite behind a single candidate.
“I wish I could say we could change it. But right now, that’s kind of how it works,” another source said.
Less than a week after Thohir’s comments, Indonesia confirmed it had shifted to support Saudi Arabia – falling in line with the rest of the AFC’s members, including Malaysia and Singapore. Even if New Zealand was on board, the trans-Tasman countries simply couldn’t meet the requirements of a 48-team World Cup without a third host.
FA was snookered, but determined to at least gain something from the process.
It agreed to pull out of the race – but in exchange, Saudi Arabia dropped its bid to host the 2026 AFC Women’s Asian Cup, effectively handing that tournament to Australia, while FA also sought favourable consideration for hosting the 2029 FIFA Club World Cup.
“The numbers are stacked against us,” FA chief executive James Johnson said last October.
“There’s been no promises made, but I think there is some goodwill that’s been given throughout world football around our choice around 2034, and I hope together with the best bid on merit that we’re able to win the 2026 Women’s Asian Cup.”
Not for the first time, Australia had been thoroughly outpointed by a rich Middle Eastern state whose ambitions in football were not solely about the sport itself, but much, much bigger, and being driven by the highest level of government – in Saudi Arabia’s case, Mohammed bin Salman, who has become increasingly close to Infantino.
But at least there was the illusion of democracy in 2010, when a vote was taken before Qatar was awarded hosting rights for the 2022 World Cup. This time, the race was won before it even began.
How the Saudis did it – and why Australia was never a chance
The 2034 World Cup will be the culmination of a long-term plan by Saudi Arabia to build power and influence in football through many years of strategic investment, sponsorships and political scheming. It has been assisted in no small part by Infantino. He has personally engineered closer ties between FIFA and the oil-rich kingdom, and appears to have stacked the deck to achieve the exact outcome the world governing body wanted.
Stanis Elsborg is the head of Play the Game, an initiative run by the Danish Institute for Sports Studies promoting democracy, transparency, and freedom of expression in world sport. Putting aside the obvious human rights concerns for the migrant workers who will be tasked with building the stadiums and infrastructure for the Saudi World Cup, Elsborg says FIFA’s process has been a “governance disaster”, and that its decision to give interested nations just 25 days to confirm their desire to bid “reeks of orchestration”.
“It’s hard to see it any other way,” Elsborg told this masthead.
“No democratic country could realistically pull together a serious intent of interest in that timeframe. It wasn’t about creating competition or being transparent – it was about locking in Saudi Arabia as the host without any challengers.”
Research by Play the Game shows the true extent of Saudi Arabia’s vast network of influence in world sport, and particularly football, which has been building quietly over many years.
Of more than 900 sponsorships identified by Play the Game across world sport from Saudi state entities – the Public Investment Fund, NEOM, Aramco, and Visit Saudi, to name just a few examples – one fifth of them are in football. Dozens of those are for AFC events, including continental club competitions – which means that the Visit Saudi signs FA didn’t want to be seen at the Women’s World Cup have found another way into Australian stadiums.
NEOM has been an AFC “global partner” since 2021 and recently extended its deal for a further five years. Other sponsorships include CONCACAF, CAF, FIFA, European clubs such as AS Roma and Atletico Madrid. And then there are the efforts to turn its own Saudi Pro League into a top-five competition, and the Cristiano Ronaldo-spearheaded recruitment drive of big-name superstars.
Just last week, FIFA signed a global broadcast deal with sports streamer DAZN for Infantino’s pet project, the redesigned Club World Cup, needing a big payday to ensure reluctant European clubs take the concept somewhat seriously. DAZN, which is closing in on a buyout of Foxtel, has been haemorrhaging cash for years, but is also growing closer to Saudi Arabia – it broadcasts the Saudi Pro League and much of the combat sport that takes place within the kingdom. The PIF is rumoured to be eyeing a 20 per cent stake in DAZN. FIFA had been struggling to find a broadcaster willing to meet its valuation, but DAZN has come to the rescue with a $1 billion deal for the global rights to next year’s Club World Cup in the United States – and the tournament will be made completely free to view. The dots connect themselves.
“When federations rely on Saudi money, they become dependent, and that gives Saudi Arabia a massive edge,” Elsborg says. “They’re not just players in the game any more; they’re the ones shaping it.”
Further, at least 48 memorandums of understanding between the SAFF and various national federations and clubs have been signed since 2021, including direct agreements with the Oceania and African confederations. Such MoUs may appear benign, meaningless documents, with both parties committing to various levels of mutual support, for both on and off-field activities, and the exchange of information and expertise.
Elsborg says they are chiefly a tool through which Saudi Arabia can gain access to key figures in the game and extend their political reach.
Indeed, one of Saudi sport’s most powerful executives now has his hands on FIFA’s levers of power. Yasser Al-Misahel, the president of the SAFF, was elected to the powerful FIFA Council in February 2023 – on the same day the AFC awarded hosting rights to Saudi Arabia for the 2027 men’s Asian Cup.
‘Nations have to take a stand’
There is nothing illegal about the way Saudi Arabia has amassed power in world football. Indeed, if Australia had the desire to become as influential in the sport as the Saudis, and a sovereign wealth fund that was deep enough to achieve it, it might do the same thing.
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But the manner of their political ascension is “deeply concerning” for the way global sport operates, Elsborg says.
“This completely rewrites how global sports operate,” he says. “They’re using financial power to essentially rewrite the rules of influence in sports governance. It sets a precedent where money trumps values, and that’s dangerous for the integrity of sport.”
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