At a virtual congress, the world football governing body FIFA awarded the 2034 World Cup to Saudi Arabia by acclamation. In doing so, FIFA engages in a remarkable rewriting of history. During the presentation of its bid, the aspiring host sent a 13-year-old girl onto the stage, who, smiling in flawless English, declared that everything was possible for her in her country. However, a law in effect since June 2022 states that women in the kingdom require the permission of a male guardian to marry and are obliged to obey their husbands.
The background of the World Cup award includes the most lucrative sponsorship deal in FIFA’s history. Since April 2024, the Saudi oil company Aramco has been supporting FIFA with a reported $100 million per year. And that is unlikely to be the end of it. Until recently, FIFA President Gianni Infantino’s pet project—to expand the Club World Cup in the summer of 2025 to 32 teams—was in trouble due to the lack of a media partner. Now, surprisingly, DAZN has secured the rights, accompanied by persistent rumors that the struggling broadcaster will soon gain a new shareholder: Saudi Arabia’s sovereign wealth fund, the Public Investment Fund (PIF).
For Infantino, Saudi Arabia has become a savior in times of need, and in return, the FIFA president has rushed through the process to ensure that the country will host the World Cup in ten years. FIFA has fallen into an embarrassing dependency, illustrating how Saudi Arabia has taken global sports hostage with more than 900 major sponsorship deals. According to a study by the organization Grant Liberty, the country has invested over $50 billion in sporting events, clubs, and athletes in recent years or made corresponding commitments—triggering profound transformations.
Previously standard sums for marketing contracts, acquisitions, and transfers are being obliterated. Tennis is experiencing price inflation, with the insignificant Diriyah Cup offering $3 million in prize money. The same is happening in golf, where Saudi Arabia first launched a billion-dollar tournament series and then pushed the traditional PGA Tour into a merger. Or in boxing, where the kingdom spent around $13 million to host the fight between YouTuber Jake Paul and Tommy Fury in Diriyah in early 2023.
For Saudi Arabia, this offensive is part of an attempt to diversify its economy in an era of declining oil reserves. Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s “Vision 2030” includes the goal that the sports sector will eventually contribute 2.5 to 3 percent of GDP. Currently, it is about 1 percent. The ruler is proceeding more strategically than other autocrats before him. At the center of these efforts is not the still-distant World Cup but the national football league. The league—bolstered by superstars like Cristiano Ronaldo, Karim Benzema, and Neymar, who has since returned to his native Brazil after failing to find happiness in the desert state—is intended to serve as a social glue, entertain Saudi Arabia’s predominantly young population, and unify the country.
The kingdom has learned from the mistakes of others. A few years ago, China also brought numerous international football stars into its domestic league, but it lacked both a comparable marketing strategy and the willingness to benefit from foreign expertise. Saudi Arabia, on the other hand, is placing great emphasis on this. The national football federation has signed 48 agreements with other federations and has also entered into six partnerships with foreign clubs.
Russia pursued a different approach: It focused on flaunting major events, hosting several World Cups and the Olympic Games between 2011 and 2018. For a time, President Vladimir Putin managed to present himself as cooperative to the West, charming government leaders in VIP boxes even as his foreign policy became increasingly aggressive. However, state-orchestrated, clumsily concealed doping ultimately ruined Putin’s already poor reputation in the sports world. In the end, Russia failed due to the excessive ambition of its president, who overplayed his hand.
Saudi Arabia’s key players are acting more discreetly—and successfully. Take Yasir al-Rumayyan, for example, who chairs English football club Newcastle United since its majority takeover by the PIF. Rumayyan does not seem desperate to win the Champions League at any cost. More important to him appears to be cultivating his network with the world’s most powerful men. In November, he sat at a mixed martial arts fight in Madison Square Garden right next to Donald Trump, who had just won the presidential election.
It is not guaranteed that Saudi Arabia’s strategy will work in the long run. Unlike FIFA and the IOC, other sports federations should try to resist the lure of oil millions—for their own sake. There is a real risk that fans from Western countries will permanently lose interest in their competitions due to Saudi Arabia’s megalomania. Absurd decisions—such as awarding the 2029 Asian Winter Games to a hot desert state—could accelerate this trend. If audiences turn away, no amount of money will help the federations.
Even in niche sports, average players or aging stars suddenly earn vast sums when they travel to glamorous events in Riyadh or Jeddah. However, if spectacle increasingly overshadows everything else, frustration will grow among those who still see sports as a purist contest of the world’s best athletes.
Five-time world footballer Cristiano Ronaldo proclaimed: “The 2034 World Cup will probably be the best World Cup of all time.” He conveniently ignored the fact that the tournament four years earlier will take place in his homeland, Portugal—a country with a decades-long football tradition. That one of the sport’s greatest figures has become a bought puppet of a repressive regime is a terrible sign for football. Just look at Neymar’s decision to turn his back on the desert.
