The 2022 World Cup, nearing its conclusion after four weeks of thrilling football and off-field controversies, has a snug place in the history of the sport’s biggest showcase.
The human rights concerns, drumbeat of criticism and resulting defiance from government and sports officials carry distinct echoes of Fifa’s past.
Benito Mussolini’s fascist government hosted the 1934 World Cup in Italy, just the second one in history. Fifa staged the 2018 World Cup in Russia, despite Russian President Vladimir Putin’s vice-like grip on power and his 2014 annexation of Crimea.
And in perhaps the most pertinent example, 44 years ago Argentina hosted the 1978 World Cup, even as the country’s military dictatorship was “disappearing” thousands of people, engaging in systemic torture and crushing dissent in what became known as the “Dirty War.”
That’s not an exact parallel with Qatar, which has been criticised for its treatment of migrant workers and its intolerance of homosexuality. But from the goals of the host country to the rhetoric of Fifa officials to the misgivings raised by observers, this World Cup seems less historical outlier than exemplar.
“There’s definitely a real revisiting now of various World Cups because it shows you a little bit of Fifa’s pattern,” said Clemente Lisi, author of ‘The Fifa World Cup: A History of the Planet’s Biggest Sporting Event.’
“And I fear that going forward, it won’t change. If you look at the countries that are interested in the World Cup in the future, we’re talking about Saudi Arabia, China. You know, these are places that Fifa may be able to do business with, but in terms of human rights records, we’re not talking about stellar countries here.”
Human rights groups say that there have been thousands of unexplained deaths among the migrant workers who helped ready Qatar for the World Cup as the tiny nation built stadiums and infrastructure.
Qatar has disputed the figures, but in an interview that British journalist Piers Morgan posted online last month a top Qatari official pegged the number of migrant worker deaths at between 400 and 500 – much higher than previous government figures, although officials later attempted to walk back those comments.
The country’s criminalisation of homosexuality has also generated protest and outrage.
Like Argentina in the ’70s, Qatar has chalked up outside condemnations to bias, with Qatar’s foreign minister calling criticism of the nation’s human rights record “very arrogant and very racist.” Fifa President Gianni Infantino has denounced European critics for “moral lesson-giving,” which he labelled “hypocrisy.”
Those comments might have sounded familiar at the 1978 World Cup, when Argentina’s president, General Jorge Rafael Videla, accused opponents of harbouring “anti-Argentine” sentiments.
And Fifa never considered changing course. The Fifa president at the time, João Havelange, was a Brazilian, and he took satisfaction in playing the World Cup in South America.
On the eve of the tournament, Havelange praised the host nation, telling local reporters: “I am among those that most depended on the hard work that your country undertook and I haven’t been disappointed. It fills me with pride, first from knowing that Argentina responded to the challenge and second because I am also South American. We have achieved everything we proposed.”
‘We should not play soccer amid the concentration camps’
In the year and a half leading up to the 1978 World Cup, the United States was moving to a new approach on human rights. The 1976 coup that had overthrown the democratically elected government of Argentina had taken place during the administration of Republican Gerald Ford, and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger advised the junta to act quickly before opposition to human rights violations grew in the United States. He told Argentina’s foreign minister, “If there are things that have to be done, you should do them quickly,” a declassified memo shows.
But President Jimmy Carter, a Democrat who took office in January 1977, made human rights a priority and took a more critical approach to Argentina. In June of that year, his Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, told the Organisation of American States that the US would tie aid to human rights in Latin America.
Vance rejected that ends-justify-the-means calculation. “If terrorism and violence in the name of dissent cannot be condoned, neither can violence that is officially sanctioned. Such action perverts the legal system that alone assures the survival of our traditions,” he said.
After the coup, there were calls to boycott the World Cup, including by a group of French journalists and intellectuals, who declared in a manifesto, “We should not play soccer amid the concentration camps and torture chambers.”
Amnesty International supported the group, warning that the real Argentina of prisons, torture, and repression of political opposition would be masked at the World Cup. But the efforts were unsuccessful, and as the tournament approached, the Argentine military dictatorship took a page from the 1936 Nazi Olympics, using the international sports competition to burnish its image on the world stage.
“Holding the tournament will show the world that Argentina is a trustworthy country, capable of carrying out huge projects,” boasted Admiral Emilio Massera, a member of the ruling junta and one of the leaders of the coup.
“And it will help push back against the criticism that is raining on us from around the world.”
“This event, which draws worldwide attention to the host country every four years, is regarded by Argentina’s military Government as a major test of public relations,” the New York Times wrote in a preview story.
“It is concerned about its reputation as a battleground of extremist violence and brutal repression and is hopeful that the country will be found to be more normal and a friendlier place than it has appeared abroad.” The military junta spent millions of dollars on PR efforts in Europe and the US, the paper reported.
Opponents of the regime sought to take advantage of the international attention of the tournament by highlighting the government’s practice of disappearing dissenters, but these efforts sometimes ended with tragic results.
One of the founding mothers of the human rights group, Azucena Villaflor, was kidnapped by armed men that very night and taken to the Navy Mechanics School. Her remains weren’t identified until nearly 30 years later, after her body had washed up on a beach and been buried in an unmarked grave.
Thousands of police circled the stadium and helicopters hovered overhead, but the regime tried to put on a peaceful face, releasing hundreds of white doves. “We hope these games will contribute to strengthen peace, which we desire for all the world and among all men,” Videla said to a mix of clapping and whistles of disapproval from the upper tier of the stadium, the New York Times reported. The first match ended in an anticlimactic 0-0 draw between West Germany and Poland.
Lisi said that the regime’s main concern was making the tournament look good on TV.
“I think at the time fans didn’t travel with the ease they do now,” he said. “So it really was a made-for-TV event. Basically it was a fresh coat of paint on everything, they spruced up their stadiums. Because they knew it would serve as a distraction, but it could also be an effective propaganda tool to solidify their power.”
And Argentina’s success in the World Cup helped unify the country. “This must be the happiest city in the world,” The Washington Post reported after Argentina beat Peru 6-0 to make the final. “Imagine carnival in Rio, Mardis Gras in New Orleans or the end of World War II in New York City and you have an idea what Buenos Aires is like. . . . Argentines are wild about soccer. They love it more than their husbands, their wives, their children – or so it seems.”
Kissinger attended the World Cup as a guest of the Argentine regime, but he was causing headaches for the Carter administration. A June 27, 1978, declassified cable from the US ambassador to Argentina at the time summarised Kissinger’s meeting with Videla, the Argentine president, writing that he was concerned that “Kissinger’s repeated high praise for Argentina’s action in wiping out terrorism and his stress on the importance of Argentina may have gone to some considerable extent to his hosts’ heads.”
‘The beginning of this trouble’
The tournament couldn’t have gone better for the ruling junta. Argentina went on to win the championship, defeating the Netherlands, 3-1. Videla took a victory lap not just for the title but in securing a propaganda coup as well, thanking Fifa for allowing his nation to host the World Cup and giving “the Argentine people a chance to show what it is capable of.” He called the World Cup “the symbol of peace.”
During that championship game, a few prisoners at the Navy Mechanics School got the chance to watch the game on a small black-and-white TV. After Argentina won, the guards took some of the prisoners on a drive to observe the mass celebrations.
Some Argentine players later expressed regret for allowing themselves to be exploited by the regime.
“There is no doubt that we were used politically,” player Ricky Villa said years later.
Argentina wasn’t shy about using the victory to strut on the international stage – and to push back on criticism from the United States on its human rights record. In August 1978, about six weeks after the final, the State Department’s top human rights official condemned the government for using “systematic torture” and “summary executions.”
