The problematic cultural framing of the Qatar World Cup

“Flags” by Ray Terrill is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

In his inaugural lecture at the prestigious Collège de France in 1862 Ernest Renan said that ‘L’Islam est la plus complète negation de l’Europe.’ [Islam is the most complete negation of Europe.] In an increasingly interconnected world, this binary opposition between Europe and Islam has remained just as pervasive. To add to this, the increased visibility of Muslim people and cultures in European and American public life has combined with harmfully reductive media stereotypes which blur the important nuance between culture and religion. What does the Qatar World Cup bring to this equation? 

The modern debate about Muslims in Europe has seen many (mainly right-wing) commentators denounce the religion as incompatible with the global North. This narrative of Islam as an ‘other’ in Europe and America is so prevalent that a majority of English Primary school children, some reports suggest, see all Muslims as ‘foreign.’

In the global North, Muslims have come to be defined by these media-driven stereotypes, such as that of the Muslim woman only ever as passively submissive to male dominance or as a strong feminist who fights against that power. These easily digestible, monolithic images circumnavigate nuance and contribute to a general conflation between everyday cultural practice and religious identity. 

According to Nadia Jeldtoft, this is because of a focus on hypervisible symbols of religion. Without oversimplifying her argument, it’s enough to say that Jeldtoft sees certain symbols - such as public religious practice and Islamic political activism - as ‘rendered hypervisible.’ The focus on these symbols - especially those which cross the liberal/secular and public/private divide such as the Hijab (head scarf) - leads to a generalised vision of Muslims in the global North as people defined by religion. Cultural practices such as women wearing Hijab are painted with the same broad brush strokes as horrific acts of terror driven by an extremist religious belief, simply because they are both seen as Muslim acts.

Despite a long and iconic history as a fashion accessory worn not only by the queens of celebrity culture but the Queens of England themselves, any mention of a ‘head scarf’ is bound to conjure these stereotypical images of Islam as incompatible with the supposed ‘Western’ ideals of secular liberal democracy. Whatever ‘Western’ really means. In this environment where religion and culture are conflated - and therefore where the actions of a few religious extremists are presented by media narratives as a part of a general, Muslim culture, all Muslims are seen as incompatible with European and American public life - regardless of how much or how little they carry out religious practices.

The same generalisation happens in the depiction of majority Muslim countries outside of the global North. Narratives skirt around cultural and religious nuance, lumping all of the competing ideas in these countries under one big, broad ‘Muslim’ umbrella. 

Throw into this toxic dialogue the appointment of Qatar as the host of the 2022 World Cup and you have yourself a hotbed of discontent.

From the outset this winter’s tournament has been mired by controversy; allegations of bribery being behind the appointment are simply the first in a long list of issues - including ongoing concerns about Qatar’s human rights record (especially surrounding the reported 6,500+ migrant worker deaths related to the building of tournament infrastructure), concerns about sustainability and about attitudes towards same-sex relationships - which have led some to describe this coming World Cup as the most controversial sports tournament ever.

When viewed through a lens which conflates Muslim culture and religion as one and the same, the criticisms of Qatar as a tournament host take on a new dimension. Media narratives have primed football fans to see the broad spectrum of Muslim belief as a single, united cultural practice. This dialogue incentivises fans to believe that the controversy surrounding Qatar’s hosting is due to the country’s official Muslim faith.

Not only does this problem come from Western media narratives; official Qatari dialogue has also fed into this cultural framing which paints specific religious belief and broad cultural practice as one and the same. While Qatar has assured that all those who wish to attend this winter will be welcome, they make sure to repeatedly underline that in return ‘we also expect and want people to respect our culture.’

This reliance on ‘culture’ as justification for a strong repression of opposition is not at first a problem. However, when the supposedly globalist machine of the World Cup enters this space it becomes clear to the Western organisers of the tournament that their ideals of liberal democracy and freedom of belief are not as global as they believed. The tournament reveals something about the arrogance of globalisation from the perspective of the richest nations on Earth, adding a discomfort to the way the media from these countries talk about Qatar.

The cultural argument is also complicated when officials make the same defence of their beliefs, but implicate religion instead: “We will not change our religion for 28 days.” The confusion of culture and religion is dangerous in this context, because it taps into a dialogue which unfairly portrays all Muslims under the same umbrella.

Since the Qatari Monarchy follows the Wahhabist faith, (a broad term which most often means fundamentalist or puritan) they believe that homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of God. This is why, despite announcing that it will both allow LGBTQ+ fans in attendance and permit the display of Pride flags in stadiums, on the official Qatar World Cup website, it is ambivalently stated ‘it is also good to know that homosexuality is prohibited in Qatar.’ The cultural framing used to justify this religious belief is a problem from all sides - commentators must take care not to paint opposition to homosexuality as a consequence of a country’s Muslim culture but neither should Qatar rely on cultural justification for anti-LGBTQ+ measures, when, in reality, they are in place because of a particular fundamentalist religious view held by the few who wield power. 

The country is seen as unfit to host the tournament, which despite its international branding, has never before had a host with a majority Muslim population. Of course there are going to be teething problems when the tournament enters a new environment. The tensions surrounding the compatibility of this year’s host nation, however, are not a Muslim problem. The current punishment for same-sex relationships in Qatar is up to seven years in prison, as it was when the appointment was given by FIFA in 2010. There are very legitimate questions about corruption and host viability which should have been asked much sooner. It’s important, though, that those questions don’t fall into the trap of Muslim versus non-Muslim framing.

Despite real progress in the inclusiveness of the beautiful game, the governing body of the world’s biggest sports tournament chose to appoint a country with a well-reported history of anti-liberal attitudes. We have to decide whether we want to support an organisation which makes that decision.


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