I stopped over in Qatar recently, coinciding with the first anniversary of the blockade imposed by Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Bahrain and Egypt, intended to punish Qatar for flouting Saudi ambitions. A year on, the blockade shows no signs of ending. The Saudis continue to make mischief, hinting they might turn Qatar into an island by digging a wide canal between the two countries, or suggesting that Qatar could lose the 2022 soccer world cup because it (out?)bribed other contenders.
For the blockaders, though, the reality is they’ve helped both
Qatar’s economic diversification and an improvement in its woeful human rights
record. If Qataris are troubled by what amounts to a family spat between very rich
relatives it doesn’t show.
Doha’s English-language newspapers evinced a spirit of
Churchillian doggedness. The Twitterati, according to the Qatar Tribune, hailed Qatar’s resilience
in seeing off a conspiracy aimed at usurping its wealth, compromising
its sovereignty and denying it the right to host the 2022 World Cup. The Gulf Times, published by a former deputy prime minister and head of the royal
court, commented that the blockaders had tried every trick in the book, “threats,
abuse, vitriol, bullying, fake news, unfounded charges, propaganda …even black
magic [and] failed miserably in their actions”.
Not surprisingly in a highly
authoritarian state, Qatar’s ruler, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, gets most of the credit for all this. His dashing
Omar Sharif-like image accompanied by the slogan, Tamim the Glorious, appears everywhere—on
cars, trucks and buses, on buildings, constructions sites, shops, restaurant, T-shirts
and posters.
Being in charge of the world’s richest country has been a big
help. Qatar’s abundance of natural gas and oil generates an average annual per
capita income of around $170,000. That figure masks the great disparity between
mega-rich Qataris, who make up only 15 per cent of a male-heavy population of
2.6 million, and the rest—mainly Indians, Nepalese, other Arabs, Filipinos,
Bangladeshis and Sri Lankans, working in hotels, restaurants, transportation,
tourism, construction and as domestic staff. Tens of thousands labour on
projects driven by the 2022 World Cup.
In the first months of the blockade,
Qatar burned through some $50 billion to ensure supplies of basic commodities
which arrived by air rather than the traditional land and sea routes from Saudi
Arabia and other Gulf states. According to the International Monetary Fund, economic
activity was affected but this was “mostly transitory and new trade routes were
quickly established”, with the financial system remaining sound. The World Bank
forecasts economic growth this year close to three per cent, compared to two
per cent in 2017.
Ironically,
the blockade prompted Qatar to become self-sufficient in milk products, essential
for many of its foreign workers. A farm outside Doha, established in 2013 to
rear sheep, has been transformed into a major dairy. By the end of 2018 it may
have as many as 20,000 cows, landed by air and sea from around the globe,
including Australia. As well as daily necessities the cows provide fun for
headline writers, witness “Milk Sheikhs” or “Land of Milk and Money” though I’m
still waiting for “Blockade an Udder Failure”.
FIFA’s 2011 selection of Qatar to host the 2022 World Cup, for which Australia
competed and managed just one vote, remains stained by accusations of serious
bribery and, at least until recently, the degrading and dangerous conditions for
foreign workers on the eight massive stadiums in or near Doha and a state-of-the-art
road and rail network which will link them.
In 2013, the former ACTU President
and current General Secretary of the International Confederation of Trade
Unions, Sharan Burrow, described the workers as “basically slaves”, adding that
if two years on from the awarding of the cup the Qatari Government had not done
the fundamentals it had “no commitment to human rights”. Such criticism, and
the risk of losing the cup, finally stung Qatari officials into action. In late
2017 the Qatari government guaranteed these workers a minimum annual wage of about
$3,200.
Ms
Burrow said earlier this year she had no doubt that Qatar was now committed
to reform and was on its way to becoming a model for other Gulf States. The end
of the “kafala” system, which gives sponsors great power, would she said, “free two
million migrant workers” and promote “a mature industrial relations structure”. In late April, the International
Labor Organisation opened an office in Doha to oversee the changes.
Qatar was hardly a household name
in soccer circles until its controversial selection, though Qatar Sports
Investment’s 2011 purchase of Paris Saint-Germain (PSG) made that club the richest
in the world. PSG demonstrated the benefit of a wealthy Gulf connection in 2017
when it bought the services of Brazilian super-star, Neymar, for a mere $340
million.
If money talks, the amount Qatar
is spending on the World Cup positively screams. Currently it’s about $660
million a week, with the final tally expected at more than $260 billion. That
should buy a fair degree of comfort for the anticipated 1 million plus fans
who’ll make the journey, though those expecting to rub shoulders with Qataris may
be disappointed. The only ones they’re certain to encounter are immigration and
customs officials, the latter courteously relieving them of any alcohol they’re
carrying. (I speak from personal experience!)
Islamic Qatar is seriously dry, with a strict ban
on public consumption of alcohol and a very dim view of public drunkenness.
This does not seem a natural fit with soccer fans. With Budweiser a World Cup
sponsor it’s no surprise that senior FIFA officials declared that alcoholic
drinks are part of the cup and “we're going to have them”. Falling into line,
as Brazil was forced to do for the 2014 cup, Qatar will temporarily allow
soccer fans to buy and drink beer at the stadiums. (Some of which will be
dismantled after the cup and shipped to poor soccer-playing countries.)
Still, fans shouldn’t relax too much. Homosexuality remains
illegal, and punishable by death if the offenders happen to be Muslim men
(though Qatar has not executed anyone since 2003). Disgraced former FIFA
President Sepp Blatter advised homosexual soccer fans to visit Qatar in 2022 “only
for the football”. Understandably, that comment didn’t go over well with gay right
activists, but he may have had a point.