The FIFA World Cup 2022 tournament kicked off on Sunday with the entire world gathering around a virtual bonfire that is a demonstration of unity and empathy, supposedly, with a set of values that bridge the differences that divide us. These values are supposed to create one common denominator for all, based on aesthetics, determination, sportsmanship, and the desire to test the limits of man.
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However, the attempt to use this idealized image to obscure all the dark and flawed aspects of reality was – as many times before – unsuccessful.
Over the World Cup's almost 100-year history, many countries that hosted the grand event were tyrannical regimes that took advantage of it to promote foreign interests, such as gaining legitimacy and international recognition and bolstering economic and business ties.
Thus, for example, Italy's Benito Mussolini used the World Cup, which was held in the country in the summer of 1934, to hold an extravagant show designed to give his fascist regime prestige and renown in the West.
Similarly, in 1978, when the global event was held in Argentina, it was used to whitewash its so-called Dirty War and legitimize dictator Jorge Rafael Videla, who turned the World Cup into the complete opposite of all universal values on which it had been founded.
Not only did Argentina trick its way to victory through a flagrant violation of sportsmanship, but in the final match, against the Netherlands, it did so against the backdrop of human tragedy and unimaginable cruelty. The game was held at the River Plate stadium, located less than a mile away from the naval academy training facility, where at the time thousands of dissidents were tortured and murdered.
The cheers of the crowd – while Videla ascended the podium with the multitude of medals he awarded himself – completely drowned out the cries of the unfortunate victims.
In this aspect, the 2018 World Cup – held in Russia – was similar. It was hosted by Vladimir Putin four years after the invasion and illegal annexation of Ukraine's Crimean Peninsula amid merciless strikes conducted by the Kremlin on blood-soaked Syrian soil to ensure President Bashar Assad's victory in the civil war.
And so, in one fell swoop, Putin was forgiven for violating human rights, persecuting and murdering his opponents, and violating the rights of Russia's LGBTQ community. He received wide international recognition and a pilgrimage of leaders from the West, who honored him and his regime with their attendance.
Fast forward to 2022, and the Qatar World Cup is no different.
The lavish celebrations and fireworks at luxurious and modern stadiums – built with the sweat and blood of foreign workers – are meant to hide one thing: Behind the message of tolerance hides a regime that systematically violates human rights – and the rights of the queer community in particular – and generously subsidizes activities of terrorist organizations throughout the Middle East.
Some have questioned whether Qatar got to host the World Cup through alleged corruption and bribes, solely because of its extreme wealth rather than its deep-rooted sports heritage. And yet, however dark these aspects may be, they do not take away from the euphoria, heartbreak, and magic that we have come to experience since the inaugural World Cup was held in 1930. Such as the 17-year-old Pelé (Edson Arantes do Nascimento) becoming a sensation at the 1958 World Cup when he led Brazil to victory in an amazing display of supreme technique.
Or how can we forget the collective misery that befell Brazil in 1950, when its team was unexpectedly defeated by Uruguay, in the legendary final held in front of 200,000 spectators at the Maracanã Stadium in Rio de Janeiro?
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Similarly, the dramatic 1954 final match in Bern, in which the West German team stunned the wonder team of Hungary, whose superstars included the legendary Ferenc Puskás, Sándor Kocsis, and Zoltán Czibor, remains etched into our memory.
For Germany, which was divided, defeated, outcast, and ostracized (and rightly so) from the family of nations due to the barbaric crimes of the Third Reich this victory went beyond sports.
The event, which later came to be known as the Miracle of Bern, became a defining moment for the collective psyche, giving the federal republic a sense of renewal and a restoration of national identity, less than a decade after the collapse of the Nazi empire of murder.
One can only lament that this feeling did not bring about – at least in the first years and decades after the 1954 World Cup – a similar process of real and poignant internal soul-searching on the part of the German people for their crimes under the Nazis.
