Is Qatar ready for the FIFA 2022 World Cup?
Qatar has a rail network these days. Or so I’ve read.
See, I’m not allowed back in the country. I’m banned. Which means I’m just going on what I’ve seen in the media. But I think a rail network is a good idea and a worthwhile investment.
When I first arrived in the country ten years ago there was no rail network. There was also no Uber. And the cab service wasn’t anything to write home about either. So a valid form of transport was flagging down random guys in dusty Nissan Tidas to drive you to the mall for spare change and hope they didn’t murder you. In days gone past these might be called ‘gypsy cabs’. I don’t think we’re allowed to use that phrase anymore…
But nevermind all that. The point, I think, is that I’m not allowed back in Qatar to check out all this newly built infrastructure.
Being persona non grata in a country is an interesting experience. I’m not sure I’d recommend it. For starters, it’s ruined my 10-year anniversary plans. Technically, I’m supposed to be back in the country for FIFA 2022 and a reunion with the friends I made while I was an expat working for the local arts sector.
I torpedoed that plan when I decided to write a book about my time in Qatar. Part travel guide, part therapy session, it was my attempt to put the country and my experiences in context, and maybe help the next generation of expats navigate its arcane business and cultural norms.
But Qatar isn’t a country known for its introspection, transparency, or willingness to entertain critics. Suffice to say, I’m not welcome back there anytime soon. Which is a shame, because FIFA World Cup aside, I’d really like to see how the palace is getting on these days.
If you build it…
I was in Qatar from 2012 to 20015. Those were the halcyon days. Qatar was rich from vast natural gas reserves. The money was pouring from the skies, and the government was attempting to fast-track several decades worth of infrastructure at breakneck speed.
In a country of only 250,000 locals, that sort of ambition requires outside assistance. So Qatar imported almost two million low paid migrants to build-the-things, staff the retail sector, serve the food, and otherwise keep the place running.
Wedged between the locals and the migrant workers you’ll find a small contingent of western expats. They’re a strange mix of art professionals, engineers, diplomats, chancers and grifters.
A good percentage of these folks were sent home in 2014 when the price of oil and gas plummeted, and the money taps were turned off by a newly installed Qatari Emir. I was among them.
One minute I was going to be managing the opening of a new museum design by Herzog de Meuron. Next thing the museum and all associated exhibits were canceled. You can read more about the rise and fall of Qatar’s arts ambitions in my article for Quartz. Which is one of the reasons I’m banned from returning. The subsequent book didn’t help matters.
Truth be told, the book was my way of processing my own confusion about the country. It was also intended as a guide for future expats. When I wrote it, the only other book about the place was an old Lonely Planet Guide which described the capital, Doha, as “The most boring place on earth.”
I quickly discovered that wasn’t entirely true. Behind that boring veneer of respectability was a town awash with money and vice. Whether it was the local men drinking beers at hidden dive bars, Russian hookers on the dancefloor at hotels, minor scandals involving expats and their homosexual life partners, or actual murders that were quietly brushed under the carpet, Qatar had more going on than you might imagine.
But Qatar (and the broader Gulf region), doesn’t take kindly to those sorts of observations. Criticism - constructive or otherwise - is a great way to get yourselves deported. Or blacklisted. Which brings us full circle, and my thwarted plans to return for the FIFA 2022 World cup.
All that glitters…
The world’s attention will turn towards Qatar in November when it plays host to football’s greatest prize. An estimated five billion people will be tuning in from around the world. Over 1.2 million tourists are expected to visit in person.
So, is Qatar ready? Or is the country’s transformation just an expensive mirage?
Well, there’s a metro these days. There’s also Uber, IKEA, and more hotels and shopping malls than when I left. Hell, even the Department of Transport is all fancy and automated these days. When I first arrived it was just a guy from Sudan sitting behind a typewriter.
But an infrastructure boom doesn’t mean a broader cultural shift. And all the flashing lights and opulence that Qatar likes to present to the outside world can’t obscure some uncomfortable truths.
This was highlighted in 2020 when women were disembarking from a flight transiting through Qatar and forced to undergo medical exams on the tarmac after an abandoned newborn baby was discovered within the airport. Understandably, this did not go over well, and two years later there are various lawsuits being swatted away by the Qatari government.
This attitude towards women’s health and privacy is codified in the country’s legal system, which views childbirth outside marriage as a crime - punishable by 12 months jail and deportation. It’s a law specifically aimed at the country’s low income foreign workers. But as with many things in Qatar, the rules don’t apply to western expats - until they do.
Which provides us with a convenient segue into Qatar’s infamous sponsorship laws. Long story short - all foreign workers need to have a local sponsor. Technically, you’re not allowed to leave without their written approval. The plight of South Asian workers caught up in this system is well documented, but it can also impact western expats. Which is why most of my work colleagues decided to announce their resignations after they had left the country on a holiday visa.
And then there’s the World Cup itself. Anyone paying attention would be aware of the controversy surrounding the voting process, the fact former FIFA boss Sepp Blatter was placed on trial for corruption, or the human rights abuses that workers have had to endure making it all a reality in the blistering sun.
Stories like these mean I won’t be boarding a flight for Qatar this November. But good luck to all involved. 1.2 million drunken football fans are expected to descend on Qatar for FIFA 2022. How this very small, very wealthy, deeply religious country will respond is going to make fascinating viewing. Nevermind anything that happens on the pitch.
You can find more tips on living and working in Qatar in my book — God Willing: How to survive expat life in Qatar.