Billions of people are estimated to be watching the FIFA Men’s World Cup this month, which has been delivering some riveting matches and unexpected results. But off the field, this year’s competition in Qatar has been marred by controversy over LGBTQI support and other issues. One major point of contention has been the treatment of the hundreds of thousands of migrants who made the 2022 competition possible, building the eight stadiums and other infrastructure for the World Cup over the past decade or so. Countless migrant workers faced difficult conditions preparing the tiny peninsula nation for its turn in the international spotlight, enduring harsh working environments, crowded dormitories, and the need to pay high fees to recruitment agencies to secure a job. An unknown number died. Officially, the death toll during the $200 billion construction frenzy for the World Cup was 40 migrants. This week, a key Qatari official said “between 400 and 500” migrants had died, although the government quickly sought to clarify that was a reference to all work-related migrant fatalities, not just on World Cup-related projects. Last February, the Guardian estimated that more than 6,500 migrants from five South Asian countries had died between 2010, when the World Cup was awarded, and 2019. Official statistics show that more than 17,000 foreign nationals died in Qatar between 2010 and 2020. Whatever the toll, rights for migrants particularly from Africa and South Asia have long been a source of tension for Qatar and other Gulf states, which have been slow to overhaul tenets of the kafala immigration system based on employer sponsorship. Foreign-born workers, who account for about 88 percent of Qatar’s population, often have little ability to escape abusive situations, change jobs, or ensure their own safety. While international attention on Qatar will surely fade once the World Cup ends on December 18, external pressure to reform the immigration system will persist. Since the World Cup started, migrants in Qatar have found themselves in a strange position. A massive mural with faces of thousands of foreign workers, ostensibly built to recognize their labor, was suddenly erased when the competition began. Many of those who built the stadiums and ensure fans’ comfort are barred from official “fan zones” for international travelers and instead watch the matches miles away from the gleaming buildings they helped create. One place where acceptance of migrants has been full-throated is on the field. The rosters of many national teams—including Qatar’s—are dotted with the names of players born in countries other than the one for which they are playing. As Gijsbert Oonk writes for the Migration Information Source, foreign-born players have been a fixture of national teams in every World Cup since 1930. And in the stands, even Qatar’s loudest fans were not native born. Many were flown in from Lebanon and elsewhere to ensure a raucous cheering section. Their chants could not power the Maroon to victory, though, with Qatar the first World Cup host nation to lose its opening match and the second to be eliminated in the group stage. Ten of the final 26 players selected for the team were born outside Qatar, a country that had never qualified for a World Cup on its merits. From the pitch to the stands and the workers who toiled for more than a decade to prepare for the global competition, migrants formed the foundations of this year’s World Cup at every level. Best regards,
Julian Hattem
Editor, Migration Information Source
[email protected] | 
