Are French Cities Joining Big Screen Boycotts Of Qatar World Cup Over Morals Or Money?

By Arthur L. Caplan & Lee H. Igel

France is preparing to defend its FIFA World Cup title when the upcoming edition of the premier global football tournament kicks off next month in Qatar. Tens of millions of fans across the country will be cheering on the squad and watching teams from 32 nations play a total of 64 matches in a run for the trophy. But many of those fans may be hard-pressed to find a place for doing so in the tradition of gathering with large numbers of fellow fans.

Officials in several French cities are announcing that they will not be organizing public viewing areas for World Cup matches. There won’t be any of the usual big screen broadcasts in the plazas, parks, and promenades of Paris, Marseille, Lille, Bordeaux, Reims, and Strasbourg. Instead of open-to-the-public watch parties, anyone who wants to join a crowd will instead have to cram into cafés, bars, restaurants, and private establishments.

This is not a return to Covid pandemic social distancing guidelines. Instead, it has to do with municipal officials taking issue over concerns they have about social and environmental impacts of the football matches being hosted in Qatar.

Qatar will be the first nation in the Middle East to host a World Cup. It is a sign of the nation’s influence in the global economy—Qatar controls 13% of the world’s oil reserves—and, as a result, its growing role in sport. Qatar Sports Investments, a subsidiary of the Qatar Investment Authority, the state-run sovereign-wealth fund, bought Paris Saint-Germain, the French capital’s biggest football club, more than a decade ago. But controversies and ethical questions, beginning with the bidding process that led to Qatar having been named host in the first place, have been swirling since long before the French city officials pulled their big screen venues.

One of their concerns settles on human rights, in particular around safe and fair working conditions for migrant workers who labor on infrastructure projects, including the tournament stadiums. The kafala system that regulates employment of millions of foreign laborers, who make up about 90% of the workforce, has been called out again and again by human rights activists over allegations of discriminatory and abusive practices. Two years ago, Qatar’s government began instituting reforms to the system. Late last year, Qatar’s tournament organizing committee and FIFA, international football’s governing body, held a meeting with representatives of the European Union, the United Nations, parliaments across the continent, and human rights organizations to further address human rights issues.

Another of the concerns is the stadiums being equipped with powerful air conditioners—or, more accurately, the large amounts of electricity they require and large amounts of pollution they release.

World Cup elimination rounds have been held every four years in May, June, and July since 1930, except for a pause during the Second World War. But temperatures in Qatar that time of year reach upwards of 120 °F (about 50 °C). This led global football to reorient its regular schedule in ways that allow this year’s matches to be held from late November to late December, when temperatures hover around 75 °F (about 25 °C). Despite the milder temperatures, massive cooling systems will be installed in the stadiums. That a solar power farm outside the capital Doha is reportedly the main energy source for the state-of-the-art system designed to put everyone and everything on the pitch and in the stands inside a two-meter high “bubble” of cool air seems to be beyond the point.

Qatar has work to do in managing realities of human rights and environmental health. But is that why French cities are suddenly nixing the big screen public viewings of matches? Could the European energy crisis have anything to do with the decision and its timing?

As winter sets in, and Russia cuts off natural gas supplies to countries that oppose its invasion of Ukraine, much of Europe is dealing with a situation in which a severe shortfall of gas supplies and soaring prices are leading to historically-high electricity bills. The French government is preaching conservation—as a New York Times article notes, “President Emmanuel Macron has started appearing on French television and Twitter in a black turtleneck instead of a shirt and tie.” The costs for running the amount of electricity necessary for big screen public viewings of football matches may be prohibitive—financially and ethically—when so many people may find themselves at risk of freezing to death.

Football matches have value beyond what happens in the game on the pitch. Public viewings of major football match broadcasts can generate many millions of Euros in revenue for local businesses and retail taxes for governments by evoking important combinations of community spirit, national pride, and personal heritage. That often holds true even in tough economic and social times.

The phenomenon of a World Cup is that the festival spirit around its matches attracts everyone from truly diehard fans to casual fans to people who might not otherwise give a game so much as a passing glance. That isn’t reserved solely for the cities hosting the matches themselves. Many among the billions of viewers of broadcast feeds in cities around the world will be interested in watching matches.

Sports and politics often mix, even if many people would prefer they not or deny that they do. But there is a moral line. It is one thing if the main reason for French cities doing away with public viewings of the 2022 World Cup is really about taking exception to Qatar’s human rights and environmental records. It is something else if it is about using ethics as cover story for having to deal with the effects of an unforgiving and politically fraught energy crisis.