The air of elation was still palpable on the streets of Doha as the leaders of world football swept in at the start of January 2011. The city had burst into a state of jubilation when Qatar’s victory in the World Cup race was announced – with every street, souk and square packed with revelling crowds waving the national flag, singing and tooting pink vuvuzelas in a blizzard of glittering confetti. Now, a month later, Doha was gearing up to show the football world what it was made of as FIFA’s gilded elite swarmed into town for the Asian Football Confederation’s annual congress ahead of the long-awaited Asian Cup. The giant clock counting down to the Asian tournament on the Corniche had nearly reached zero and now the cheering crowds were out in force again. They lined the streets to greet the trophy that had been flown into Doha and handed ceremoniously to Mohamed bin Hammam that morning, and was now being was held aloft on an open-topped bus tour of the city.
The president of Asian football was basking in the glory of the crowning achievement of his life, but he could not afford to pause. The World Cup that his country had won the rights to host was still 11 years away, and anything could happen in the intervening years. It was essential that he held on to his ruling position within FIFA so that he could continue to guard Qatar’s interests. Bin Hammam had promised back in August that, rather than running for the FIFA presidency this June, he would back Sepp Blatter to remain in office and stand for re-election as head of the AFC instead. With the World Cup safely in the bag, hanging on to the presidency of his confederation was his main focus as the election at the congress on 6 January neared. The urgency of shoring up his position felt increasingly pressing because Blatter’s latest manoeuvres had started to raise his hackles.
The FIFA president, who had once seemed so supportive of Qatar’s World Cup dream, appeared to have been severely discomfited by the country’s improbable victory. Bin Hammam had shown the extent of his power within world football by persuading FIFA’s rulers to send their prized tournament to the desert, and now his advisors were warning that Blatter was on the warpath. The sly old fox had been glad to assure the Emir of his support for an apparently impossible project, so the reasoning went, but Qatar’s eventual victory had caught him completely off guard.
Blatter was an arch pragmatist who could see better than anyone that the tournament in the Gulf was going to be a commercial, popular and sporting flop for FIFA. He wouldn’t like that prospect one bit, but what would stick in his craw more than anything was the fact that Bin Hammam had managed to pull off the impossible stunt right under his nose and, in the end, without his support. If his old Qatari ally was capable of this, he was capable of anything. One close advisor warned Bin Hammam that he may have ‘provoked a death penalty by collecting those fourteen votes’. From now on, his counsellors cautioned, the president would make it his sole mission ‘to destroy Mohamed bin Hammam’.33
The first real sign of trouble came four days before the AFC congress, when Blatter announced unilaterally that he would set up an anti-corruption committee to police world football’s governing body. The ‘World Cup votes for sale’ story in The Sunday Times continued to cast a long shadow over the bidding contest. Blatter had told the Swiss newspaper SonntagsZeitung that the independent committee, which he seemed to have dreamed up on his own over Christmas, would consist of seven to nine members ‘not only from sport but from politics, finance, business and culture’. He said it would ‘strengthen our credibility and give us a new image in terms of transparency,’ adding: ‘I will take care of it personally, to ensure there is no corruption at FIFA.’
Bin Hammam was horrified. What was the president thinking? It was bad enough that he had given the ethics committee oversight of the bidding process and brought in that meddlesome investigator Chris Eaton to stick his nose into everyone else’s business. How dare he announce that he was going to bring in another bunch of strangers to police the running of world football, without even mentioning it to his executive committee in advance, let alone consulting them? Several of FIFA’s rulers were seriously agitated by Blatter’s shock manoeuvre, but no one was more incensed than Bin Hammam.
The Qatari fired a first return salvo on the eve of the AFC congress, saying tersely in a public interview that: ‘Some of FIFA’s acts I do not approve of or agree with.’ He went on: ‘I am a member of the FIFA executive committee and we never discussed this idea inside the executive committee – I read about it in the media. I don’t appreciate that tomorrow we go to a meeting of FIFA and we find already that a committee has been formed, that members have been appointed and the code, or whatever, has been decided . . . If we are serious, there has to be a serious discussion within the executive committee first.’ Never had Bin Hammam spoken such stern words about his master’s deeds in public. He was livid. Blatter was jeopardising everything he had worked so hard to achieve. When asked if he thought the time had come for a change at the highest level of FIFA, he replied darkly: ‘A change is a demand for an improvement really. I cannot be one hundred per cent frank with you, but I think FIFA needs lot of improvement.’
The following morning, Bin Hammam strode into the AFC congress resplendent in a gold-trimmed bisht cape over his ordinary dishdasha. This was a statement. Bishts are the preserve of the loftiest dignitaries in Qatari society, and it was rare to see Bin Hammam in anything grander than his traditional white robe and keffiyeh. Things had changed now he was the man who had achieved the Emir’s dearest wish. He was a national hero in Qatar, and he wanted his friends in world football to know it. When the delegates settled into their chairs, Bin Hammam took the podium to open the congress, addressing the assembly. Speaking slowly and deliberately, he issued a cri de coeur to his supporters across the continent. ‘While Asia has not yet taken over the world, the rumblings of Asia can now be felt,’ he declared. ‘We strongly believe that the future is Asia and we are working very hard towards the future. We must push our limits and challenge the status quo.’
Then it was Blatter’s turn. The 74-year-old bounded up to the lectern to dismiss any suggestion that his beloved FIFA was in need of change, and swat away the scandal which had claimed two members of its executive committee before the World Cup vote. The enemies of world football would be crushed and the leaders of the glorious game would be restored to the respect they deserved, he promised. ‘In 2010 we had some milestones in the history of football, starting with the first World Cup on the African continent, and what a success,’ the president stated. ‘And then the decision of FIFA’s executive committee to go to new destinations in 2018 and 2022.’ His eyes narrowed, and he lowered his tone confidentially. ‘All these successes have created a lot of envy and jealousy in our world because you cannot satisfy everybody,’ he said.
Then Blatter loosened his shoulders and adopted a more avuncular manner. He wanted to quell any fears that such malicious slurs on the reputation of the global game would stick. FIFA’s children needn’t worry: the family was invincible. ‘The success story of FIFA can continue because we are in a comfortable situation, despite the criticism given to FIFA,’ the president assured the delegates. He was resolute. ‘We have the power and the instruments to go against any attacks that are made.’
When it was time for the election, the Asian delegates filed up to the ballot box and slotted in their voting slips while the room hummed with idle chatter. No one was surprised when the announcement came that the man who had just won the right to host the World Cup in Asia had been re-elected unopposed as president. More good news followed quickly when Bin Hammam’s friend and fixer Manilal Fernando rolled to victory, winning a seat at FIFA’s top table for the first time.
But then came a bitter shock. Dr Chung Mong-joon was defeated. The South Korean had been toppled from his treasured perch as Asia’s FIFA vice-president, despite Fernando’s enthusiastic efforts to turn the ballot in his favour. Chung had been slain by Prince Ali bin Al-Hussein of Jordan, an avowed Blatterite whose campaign had benefited from the firm backing of the FIFA president. He became the youngest member of the Exco at just 35. The news sparked celebrations among the Arab delegations at the congress, while Chung stood stiffly and stalked out of the hall, his face set in a blank stare.
Bin Hammam rose to shake Prince Ali’s hand and congratulated him, concealing his disappointment beneath a cool smile. He had worked hard to assist Chung’s AFC re-election campaign after securing his pledge to back Qatar’s World Cup bid when South Korea fell out of the ballot. As a point of personal honour, he hated to have let his new ally down. He would have to find a way of making it up to Chung, he thought, as he watched the back of his friend’s silvered head retreating through the crowds amid the Arab celebrations.
Chung’s defeat was a major boost for Blatter: instantly extinguishing the threat of the South Korean’s challenge to the FIFA presidency. Now Chung had been unseated from world football’s ruling committee, he no longer had a hope of making a successful run for the top job. What’s more, Prince Ali’s backers immediately repaid Blatter for his support, pledging their loyalty in the presidential election that June. ‘I can confirm that the twenty-five people who voted for Prince Ali today will vote for President Blatter at the FIFA congress because Blatter deserves to continue as FIFA president,’ said Sheikh Ahmad Ali Fahad Al Sabah, the head of the Kuwaiti FA. Bin Hammam scowled.
Blatter was in ebullient spirits when the Asian Cup began the next day, bouncing into Khalifa International Stadium in his gold buttoned blazer ready to cause more mischief before the first match had even kicked off. The FIFA president took it upon himself to announce, apropos of nothing, that the Qatar World Cup would have to be held in the winter in order to protect players from the summer heat. ‘I expect it will be held in the winter,’ he opined at a press conference before the match. ‘When you play football, you have to protect the main people: the players.’ Then he dropped in an ominous reminder that FIFA maintained the right to move the goalposts at any moment before 2022. ‘Do not forget there is still eleven years to go, and although we have the basic conditions of their bid for a June and July World Cup, the FIFA executive committee is entitled to change anything that was in the bid,’ he said. Perhaps the renewed promise of uncontested power was making Blatter giddy. Or did he have a more sinister endgame in in mind?
The suggestion that the tournament might be moved caused pandemonium. Shifting the World Cup to winter threatened chaos for European football, which some said would be disrupted for at least three seasons, bringing sponsorship and broadcast deals into jeopardy. Qatar’s bid had sworn it could air-condition its 12 proposed stadiums, five fan parks and 32 training centres with solar-power, to make the tournament playable in the summer, but now the FIFA president was showing the world he had no faith in this promise. Bin Hammam was outraged by the suggestion, on Qatari soil, that his country had won the World Cup race on false pretences. Coming on the heels of the random announcement of a prying anti-corruption committee, this was too much to bear. Why wouldn’t Blatter just keep his mouth shut for five minutes and let Qatar enjoy its big moment?
The Asian Cup was supposed to be an auspicious event. This was Doha’s big chance to show the world just how wonderful a tournament it was capable of hosting, and the local organising committee had worked energetically for four years to get everything into stellar shape. Issa Hayatou had flown in with his wife along with Hany Abo Rida, Worawi Makudi and many of Bin Hammam’s friends in world football, and Amadou Diallo was there to greet the guests.
Mohammed Meshadi had been dispatched to pick up an advance of $100,550 from the AFC debtors’ account34 so there would be no shortage of cash during the happy occasion. Jack Warner had sent apologies for being unable to come, but he included the bank details of his Dr João Havelange Centre of Excellence ‘as requested’. Two days later, he wrote again: ‘President and Brother, I hate to bother you, especially at this time re your Congress, but after two days, I am yet to hear from our friend. I know this is not normal.’ The reminder had the desired effect: within days Najeeb Chirakal had arranged for Kemco to wire Warner $12,500.
Now the first match between Qatar and Uzbekistan was about to kick off and the Khalifa International Stadium was packed to capacity with local men in white robes and women in black abayas. Sadly, the home team did not stand up under the pressure. The Uzbeks were already 1-0 up when Qatar’s Khalfan Ibrahim made a disastrous pass into his own penalty area which allowed the away team to slot in a second goal. The stadium drained of home support before the match had reached its conclusion as the local crowd headed miserably for the exits, with Uzbek drums thundering triumphantly from the away section. The demoralising 2-0 defeat in the opening match was an embarrassing start to a tournament intended to celebrate Qatar’s growing status in world football. ‘The players wanted to give their best but they forgot everything. Today was a very, very bad day,’ the team’s distinguished French coach Bruno Metsu told journalists after the final whistle. ‘The pressure is huge, but sometimes it is very difficult to play the opening game.’
Bin Hammam was stung by Qatar’s defeat, but more than anything he was still spitting feathers about Blatter’s suggestion before the match that his proud country was not capable of delivering on its promise to host the World Cup in the summer. He fired off another volley at the FIFA president live on television. Asked if there was any intention to move the tournament to the winter, as Blatter had suggested, Bin Hammam said: ‘Not at all . . . Our business is to organise a comfortable World Cup in June and July. That’s what we have promised the world. And we are sticking to our promise and we are keeping our promise and that is our final word.’ He went on: ‘I’m really not very impressed by these opinions to . . . change the time from July to January. It’s premature, it’s people’s opinions and they’re just discussing it on no basis or no ground.’
The public shootout between Blatter and Bin Hammam was beginning to overshadow the Asian Cup and some were already calling the tournament a damp squib. No one could claim it wasn’t progressing smoothly: the organisation was flawless, the marketing was slick and every edifice from the gleaming stadiums to the state-of-the-art team facilities seemed to drip with Gulf gold. But the football press were complaining that the stands were half empty and the games lacked atmosphere. After the dispiriting defeat which had sent the home fans packing in the opening game, the locals no longer seemed interested. Qatar’s fortunes had briefly recovered with a win over China, but even the resurgent home team wasn’t able to fill the stadium for the quarter-final match in which it was finally knocked out by Japan.
Bin Hammam was determined to capitalise on his country’s efforts as the tournament drew to a close. ‘It’s been an extremely well organised event by Qatar,’ he insisted. ‘Although it is twelve years [sic] between now and 2022, it was a very good rehearsal for that competition.’ But he couldn’t resist using the publicity ahead of the semi-finals to take aim and fire at Blatter. This time, his comments sent shockwaves through world football. ‘Everybody is going to accuse us today as corrupted people because maybe people see Mr Blatter has stayed a long time in FIFA,’ he told the Associated Press. ‘Thirty-five years in one organisation is quite a long time. No matter how clean you are, honest or how correct you are, still people will attack you. You are going to be defenceless. That is why I believe change is the best thing for the organisation.’
If the world was in any doubt, it was now clear that the once golden friendship between Blatter and his one-time Qatari conspirator was well and truly at an end. Bin Hammam refused to comment on whether he would stand against Blatter in the election that June, now that Chung was no longer a contender, saying stubbornly: ‘I did not make up my mind yet. I would rather wait and see.’ Days later, he used a press conference ahead of the final match between Australia and Japan on 29 January to declare once more that he wanted to see FIFA presidents ejected after two terms. ‘I believe that’s the right way for FIFA to restructure itself,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to answer any questions about the FIFA elections. But I think, and correct me if I’m wrong, that people today are complaining a lot about how FIFA runs itself as a business. It is not just term limits that need to change, but a lot of changes are needed to FIFA practices, its office business. A term limit will facilitate the rotation of power within the organisation.’ There was no backing away from it now. This was all-out war.
No sooner was the FIFA president back in his comfort zone in Zurich than he was preparing to take the biggest pot shot he could at his one-time supporters in Qatar. In an interview with Brian Alexander, a sympathetic BBC journalist whom Blatter would later hire as a FIFA spin doctor, he sensationally revealed that he knew Qatar and Spain had colluded in the World Cup ballot after all. ‘I’ll be honest, there was a bundle of votes between Spain and Qatar,’ he said insouciantly.
This was an astonishing admission from world football’s most powerful official, after FIFA’s own ethics committee had closed the case on collusion between the two countries, citing a lack of evidence. Blatter had just blown the whole thing wide open again. He denied that the deal had decided the outcome of either ballot, insisting: ‘It was a nonsense. It was there but it didn’t work, not for one and not for the other side.’ That wasn’t going to cut much ice, given that the votes from Spain and the three South Americans had clearly sealed Qatar’s victory. There was no going back from this admission. FIFA’s president had just claimed, on camera, that the country which had won the rights to host the World Cup had cheated.35
This could not be borne. The very next day, Chung Mong-joon swung into action. The South Korean had maintained a dignified silence since his shock defeat at the AFC election, but now he took to Twitter to declare a threat to Blatter. He wrote: ‘I had lunch with Bin Hammam’ and ‘it seems he will challenge the FIFA presidential election in June.’ The Qatari refused to comment on Chung’s declaration, but the gauntlet had been thrown down.
Bin Hammam had not forgotten the debt he owed Chung, and he had flown to Seoul soon after the end of the Asian Cup to see what he could do to soothe the pain of defeat for this old foe who had become his friend. When the pair lunched together, Bin Hammam had made Chung a promise. He was sorry that he had been unable to protect the South Korean’s seat on the FIFA Exco, but he wanted to offer the next best thing he could. He would see to it that Chung became an honorary vice-president of world football’s governing body, granting him unassailable status as a FIFA grandee and most of the perks that came with a seat on the ruling committee. Chung was grateful, and accepted the Qatari’s kind offer to make the proposal at the next meeting of the FIFA Exco in Zurich.
The conversation turned next to a dilemma now close to both their hearts: how to stamp out the scourge of Sepp Blatter. Bin Hammam knew how dearly Chung had cherished his own presidential ambitions, so he tiptoed around the subject gingerly. He hadn’t decided for certain yet what he should do in the election that June, but Blatter’s pronouncements on Qatar’s World Cup were increasingly erratic and Bin Hammam felt in his bones that there was only one way to head off the danger. If he did choose to run for the top job in world football, he knew it would be a matter of death or glory, and he would need all the supporters he could get. Bin Hammam was delighted when the South Korean signed up. Chung’s own hopes were dashed, but it would be delicious to see Blatter felled. He would do what he could to help his friend in Qatar.
Bin Hammam wrote to him after the meeting in February to thank him for the ‘fabulous hospitality’ he had received on the visit. ‘I will do my best in Zurich and hope it will be successful,’ he promised. Chung’s assistant, ES Kim, followed up with a letter to Chirakal later that month. ‘During his visit to Korea, President Hammam mentioned . . . that he would propose Dr Chung as honorary FIFA vice-president at the upcoming FIFA Exco meeting and Dr Chung is deeply appreciative of this kind gesture from the AFC president,’ he wrote. ‘In relation to this matter, Dr Chung would like to send a letter to some of the FIFA Exco members, who, in his opinion, would support President Hammam’s proposal. Before sending out such a request letter, Dr Chung would like to sound out the opinion of the AFC president about his plan.’
Kim had already written to Issa Hayatou asking him to back Bin Hammam’s nomination of Chung, and he wanted the Qatari’s permission to send similar letters to Jack Warner, Ángel María Villar Llona, Michel Platini, Michel D’Hooghe, Worawi Makudi, Nicolas Leoz, Marios Lefkaritis, Franz Beckenbauer, Rafael Salguero and Vitaliy Mutko. Bin Hammam agreed and, sure enough, Chung got his wish. He was named FIFA’s only honorary vice-president later that year, a position he still holds today. The debt had been repaid.
Bin Hammam, meanwhile, had a few favours to return to those who had helped Qatar win the World Cup ballot. Since the month of the big vote, the Qatari had been working with his powerful ally Issa Hayatou to arrange private talks between the leaders of their two countries. Paul Biya, the president of Cameroon, was granted a rare private audience with the Emir in early 2011. In February, an email marked ‘Confidential – for President Bin Hammam’ dropped into the Qatari’s inbox from a senior official at CAF. Attached was a private letter addressed to Hayatou from a Cameroonian government minister, dated 24 December 2010 and headed: ‘Visit of the Head of State to Qatar’. It read: ‘I have the honour to ask you to kindly relay to his Excellency the Emir of Qatar, the approval of the President of the Republic regarding this visit, which modalities will be fixed between both parties by diplomatic means.’
Hayatou had clearly played a pivotal role in securing the audience through his relationship with Bin Hammam, and the letter invited him to ‘provide us any useful information on this matter’.36 Biya’s visit to Qatar was arranged secretly and there is no public trace of his meeting with the Emir ever having taken place – or of what the two heads of states discussed if they did come together. But the ability to call in such favours with the ruler of the world’s richest country was clearly a big feather in Hayatou’s cap back in Cameroon – and it was all thanks to his good friend Bin Hammam.
There was another big state visit in the offing for a second key FIFA voter, too, in the months after the World Cup ballot. Michel D’Hooghe, the Belgian Exco member, had emailed Bin Hammam at the end of January to ask him to meet the president of Flanders, Kris Peeters, who was planning a visit to Qatar the following month. ‘Dear Friend,’ D’Hooghe had written. ‘The Minister-President of Flanders [northern part of Belgium] is planning an official visit to Qatar . . . Having knowledge of our friendship and our collegial relationship within the Executive Committee of FIFA, he asked me to examine the possibility of a meeting with you . . . I would really appreciate it if this could be possible. Looking forward to your answer and with kindest regards, Michel.’ Bin Hammam had been eager to help. ‘It’ll be my pleasure to meet the Minister and invite him for a dinner or lunch on 10th of February,’ he responded. ‘Please let me have his itinerary at your earliest.’ Jenny Be had then forwarded the email to Najeeb Chirakal in Bin Hammam’s private office in Doha with a note to remind the president about the engagement.
The meeting between Peeters and Bin Hammam was a big opportunity for Belgium. Chirakal booked the two men a table for lunch at L’wzaar, Doha’s best seafood restaurant, by the long pale stretch of Katara beach. The president of Flanders strode in grinning widely and made his way past the long fish counter heaped with fresh catch to the table where Bin Hammam was waiting. It had already been a good day, and it was about to get better. Peeters had spent the morning with the Emir, and was looking forward to a trip to the Al Shaqab equestrian centre that afternoon to see Qatar’s collection of thoroughbred Arabian horses. But there was no doubt about it: this lunch, arranged for him by Belgium’s FIFA voter, was the highlight of the whole trip. He was there to make a pitch on behalf of a major consortium of Belgian companies for the multi-billion-dollar contracts to help construct the infrastructure for the Qatar World Cup, and Bin Hammam was the man he most wanted to speak to.
The Belgian Sports Technology Club (BSTC) was an umbrella group covering some 70 firms which wanted to compete for a slice of the $50 billion planned infrastructure spending in Doha over the next decade, and Peeters had been enlisted to make their case. The consortium included the Belgian construction giant Besix Group, which had won a $375 million contract to help build the third phase of the passenger terminal at the New Doha International Airport in Qatar the previous summer. Besix saw itself as a major contender to help build the brand new stadiums Qatar would need to have in place by 2022, and the Belgians wanted to steal a march on the competition. That was why Peeters was lunching with Bin Hammam.
After the pair dined together, BSTC proudly briefed the media that Belgium had been the ‘first on the ball’ with Qatar’s 2022 construction plans. ‘Belgian companies were the first to talk with Mohamed bin Hammam, president of the Asian Football Confederation, in view of the organisation of the World Cup in 2022 in Qatar,’ the financial magazine Trends-Tendances reported after a briefing from BTSC. ‘Qatar wants to soon begin preparations for the 2022 World Cup . . . Initial contact has occurred . . . between the BTSC and Mohamed bin Hammam, as part of the visit to the region of Kris Peeters, Flemish Minister-President.’
There was no doubt in the Belgians’ mind that Bin Hammam was the man to come to if you wanted a slice of the World Cup pie, and the contact with the most powerful man in Qatari football was a big boon. A wholly owned subsidiary of Besix, Six Construct Qatar,37 went on to win the multi-million-dollar contract to renovate the Khalifa International Stadium ahead of the World Cup – including by building in innovative cooling technology. There was nothing to suggest that the contract had not been won fair and square, but no one knew that the Belgians’ first foray into Qatar 2022 had been secretly arranged by the country’s FIFA voter thanks to his ‘collegial relationship’ with Bin Hammam.
Indeed, Qatar’s World Cup hero was busily portioning off his own share of the spoils. Bin Hammam had quickly begun lining himself up to win a multi-million-pound contract to supply services to Qatar 2022 days after the vote was won – and the bid’s chief executive Hassan Al-Thawadi was ready to help him set up the deal. Bin Hammam was starting a joint venture with Elie and Mona Yahchouchi, a couple of Lebanese television moguls, to provide information technology services for the tournament.
He first met Elie Yahchouchi during the Asian Cup in Doha on 18 January, a few days after holding discussions with officials from Qatar’s ministry of information and communications technology (ICT). Yahchouchi wrote to Bin Hammam four days later to ‘congratulate you for the great achievement not only for Qatar, but also for the Arab world and Middle East region’ of bringing the World Cup to his country. He continued: ‘We feel privileged, indeed, to be given the opportunity to be part of your vision of what can be achieved to put Qatar at the leading edge, high above the rest, in what it can implement and offer to the world as facilities, services and end to end solution for the Qatar 2022 World Cup.’ Yahchouchi concluded by asking Bin Hammam to convey his ‘gratitude’ to ‘your seniors’ in the Qatari royal family. Bin Hammam responded warmly: ‘It was my pleasure and privilege to meet you and your colleagues. I am looking forward to assist you to achieve your goals with Qatar.’
The two men set about establishing the consultancy firm that would be jointly owned by Bin Hammam and a small consortium of Lebanese businessmen. Yahchouchi emailed Bin Hammam again in February. ‘As discussed and agreed, under your blessing, direction and custody, we will start by establishing an IT consultancy company in Qatar based on the initial business plan presented during our meeting.’ He said his consultancy firm would look for a managing director to be based in Doha, conduct a prospecting exercise in Qatar to identify opportunities and search for international vendors to partner with. His email concluded: ‘Your Excellency, please accept again our gratitude for allowing us the opportunity to be of Service and kindly reiterate our gratitude to your seniors and family as well.’
The documents were soon finalised and, when they were ready to swing into action, Bin Hammam emailed Al-Thawadi asking him to set up a meeting for the Yahchouchis with officials from the government information ministry. The 2022 bid chief quickly ushered Bin Hammam’s new business partners in to see the government’s executive director of ICT development to discuss the deal, and further meetings with the Qatar 2022 bid committee followed. Bin Hammam was already enjoying the status of a national hero in Qatar after pulling off his World Cup victory, and now he was on his way to reaping the financial rewards too.
Everyone wanted a piece of Qatar’s victory. Chris Eaton was already enjoying the fruits of his new friendship with the men from the Gulf and he was keen to take the relationship to the next level. FIFA’s investigator wrote happily to tell a friend that: ‘The emir sent me a wonderful gift following the announcement of Qatar’s success. I am sure it was arranged by Mohamed from his protection squad but it came through the embassy in Zurich with a card from the emir.’
The package that had landed on Eaton’s desk in FIFA headquarters had contained a luxury watch and cufflinks. This was a generous present from the ruler of the country whose bid he had been investigating only months before, and Eaton was eager to show that the goodwill was mutual. He had pocketed the card bearing Qatar’s name that Blatter had pulled out of the envelope at the ceremony in Zurich in December and he intended to turn it into a memento for the country’s ruler. He wrote to a friend: ‘I have a special gift for the emir (in fact I have the original envelope that contained the card that announced Qatar’s success that Sepp Blatter opened on the night – see the picture below). I would like to present it to the emir or someone from his staff while I am in Qatar.’ Eaton later asked an aide to ‘get something really smart done with the 2022 envelope’ and a plan was devised to get it framed with a picture of Blatter declaring the winner.38
At the same time, Eaton was keen to continue his talks with the Qataris about the sports security project they had mooted when he visited Doha the previous autumn. For the sake of decency, he waited until exactly two weeks had passed after the secret ballot before he wrote effusively to Al-Thawadi. ‘Dear Hassan, I have waited a reasonable time before sending you this message of my most sincere congratulations to you and your team for Qatar being selected to host the World Cup. I am very much looking forward to working with you and whoever will be the security chief at the LOC [Local Organising Committee]. When I was in Doha the Minister discussed with me the idea of establishing a Sports Security Academy in Doha. I said at the time that it is a very interesting initiative and could place Qatar in a unique position. There is a very real need for such an international academy. On the next occasion I am in the region I would appreciate the opportunity of further discussing this initiative among of course other security issues that are part and parcel of the World Cup. Again Hassan, Mabrook, and I hope to see you soon.’
Al-Thawadi responded two days later saying: ‘I will mention to the minister the sports academy project and let me know when you will be in town to continue with the discussions.’
By now, Eaton was seriously eyeing a move to Doha. The investigator had stuffed his security team at FIFA with a handful of trusted acolytes, and he called these men together in January to confide that he was pursuing opportunities in Qatar that he hoped would yield a bigger budget, more freedom and much better pay. If it worked out, he wanted them to come with him – but for now their lips were to remain tightly sealed. Shortly afterwards, Eaton discovered that a freelancer who had been brought in to work with his team on a specific project was romantically linked to a senior FIFA official. A stand-up row ensued with his consigliere Terry Steans, in which the investigator raged that his plans had been compromised by the proximity of this interloper to his paymasters at FIFA.
After the argument, Steans wrote an emollient email to Eaton, apologising for losing his temper and assuring his boss that he had not breathed a word about the plan to decamp to Doha to the freelancer. ‘Today was a bad day for personal reasons, no excuse for unprofessional behaviour . . . I had my thumb up my bum and my brain neutral,’ he wrote. ‘I have been at great pains not to speak to [the freelancer] about the plans we have discussed because I understand he is in a difficult position with [his girlfriend] and he is better off not having any information he can share and discuss with her.’
He went on: ‘I have discussed nothing about Qatar or any other potential that presents itself to be capitalised on outside of FIFA as he was not going to be involved in such opportunities. Also if he confided in [his girlfriend] about any such venture you would be compromised . . . What I want from you commercially is exactly what you have planned out for me. I am not going to pass up the chance to build a pension pot as you once said, that would be stupid. Outside of the FIFA entity I want what we have agreed, to find an income stream for [the other members of the investigations team], yourself and me.’ Eaton was pacified, and soon after tasked Steans with getting Qatar’s winning envelope framed, because he was trying to ‘arrange a meeting either with the emir or his staff to give him a special presentation’.
Eaton was planning to travel to Doha in March for the International Sports Security Conference, and he emailed Hassan Al-Thawadi to suggest a meeting to discuss ‘the concept for establishing an international football (or sports more generally) security academy in Qatar’. Shortly after, he received a tip-off that the exciting new sports security project he had discussed in October with Qatar’s interior minister, Sheikh Abdullah bin Nasser Bin Khalifa Al Thani, had come to fruition more quickly than he had expected. He learned that the conference in March would be used by the president of Qatar’s International Academy for Security Studies, Mohammed Hanzab, to announce the creation of a sports security centre based in Doha. These were glad tidings indeed.
Eaton immediately fired off an email to Hanzab, attaching his own curriculum vitae ‘for ease of reference’. He explained: ‘I met with Sheikh Abdullah bin Nasser Bin Khalifa Al Thani during the Interpol general assembly in Doha late last year. At that meeting Sheikh Abdulla [sic] raised the possibility of Qatar developing an International Centre for Sports Security. I said to him at the time, that not only was this an interesting proposal generally, but that should Qatar win the bid for 2022, that on behalf of FIFA I would do my best to promote the concept widely . . . I note that you are giving an address at the Conference that appears to be on this subject.’ Eaton said he was in the process of developing a holistic security plan for FIFA and would be talking to Al-Thawadi later in the year about arrangements for the Qatar World Cup. He concluded ‘I am most anxious to discuss these issues with you when I am in Doha.’
A couple of hours later, he forwarded the same email to Al-Thawadi, along with a short note saying that he hoped they could meet while he was visiting Qatar to ‘discuss issues of mutual importance’. Al-Thawadi responded familiarly: ‘Chris . . . I would very much like to meet with you when you are in Doha.’ He was unavailable during the conference, but Eaton extended his stay so that the pair could meet on the following Sunday morning.
Eaton flew into Doha in March, and watched from the audience as Hanzab unveiled the International Centre for Sports Security to the world. The new organisation had the ambitious aim to ‘to enhance security and safety in the world of sport’, using the Gulf state’s oil and gas riches, as part of the grander scheme to make Qatar a global sporting hub. It was also the perfect enticement for FIFA’s investigator and his entire team.
Two days after the announcement, Eaton typed an excited email to his underlings back in Zurich. ‘I have had a full day with the head of the Qatar Academy for International Security Studies, which has launched the International Centre for Sports Security,’ he wrote. ‘Lots in this for us I think.’ He was right.
Mohamed bin Hammam was an honoured guest at the launch of the International Centre of Security in Doha and he smiled and nodded in all the right places, but his mind was a long way away. After much deliberation and discussion with his friends in the Qatari royal family and the World Cup bid team, he had decided that the time was right to strike Blatter down. Bin Hammam had been waiting to see if another credible contender would emerge after the loss of Chung and had promised to back Michel Platini if he stood, but now the UEFA president had ruled himself out of the running and there was no one to oppose Blatter unless Bin Hammam stepped up to the plate.
The Qataris had lost all confidence that the FIFA president was on their side, and his capricious pronouncements about their prized tournament had left no choice but to go for the jugular. With Bin Hammam at the top of FIFA, their World Cup dream would remain intact. So later the same day that the ICSS was unveiled, Bin Hammam gave his strongest indication yet that he was preparing to run for the FIFA presidency. ‘People have to try change. Change is good,’ he told the Guardian, adding suspensefully: ‘Within ten days I will formally declare whether I will stand or not.’
Behind the scenes, Bin Hammam had already been canvassing for support with the help of Manilal Fernando. The football bosses of Yemen, Sri Lanka, Nepal and Thailand had written to FIFA nominating him as a candidate to oppose Blatter, and the English FA had pledged its support. Junji Ogura of Japan had been asked to back Bin Hammam, and the Qatari had arranged to meet privately with Jack Warner to sound him out, too. Chung had promised South Korea’s backing at lunch in February, but Fernando wanted to be sure. The Sri Lankan wrote to Chung on 9 March asking him whether he would support Bin Hammam and suggesting a private chat to reassess his own future in football. He also asked whether Chung intended to continue ‘the development programme and assistance programme you promissed [sic] for persons in my region’ and whether it would be possible to help Bin Hammam’s ally Ganesh Thapa ‘secure a percentage from the Hyundai Car Agency in Nepal’. History does not relate Chung’s reply.
Thapa, the president of the Nepalese FA, was one of Bin Hammam’s stalwarts in Asia. A total of $115,000 had been paid into his personal bank accounts in the run-up to the World Cup vote, and in the weeks before Bin Hammam announced his presidential campaign, Thapa was busily squeezing more cash out of his contacts in Qatar. He set up a meeting with Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa bin Ahmed Al Thani, the president of the Qatar FA, and emailed Najeeb Chirakal to report back on the meeting on 8 March. ‘He agreed with my proposal for paying US$ 2,00,000 [sic] . . . for 4 years. On this regard he had told me to send you a confidential letter for releasing our 1st year’s payment which amounts US$ 2,00,000,’ Thapa said.
The money, he claimed, was for Nepal’s national league, the ‘total estimated budget’ for which was $800,000, and Qatar had agreed to pick up the whole bill. Thapa followed up with another email on 12 March providing the bank details of the Nepalese FA.39 The association would later claim that it had received only $200,000 from Qatar and accuse Thapa of creaming off the rest of the $800,000 he appeared to have secured. He was suspended and is currently under investigation for allegedly embezzling around $6 million from the association during his 19 years as its president.
As word spread that Bin Hammam was preparing a bid for the presidential crown, requests began to roll in again from his friends across Asia and Africa. The day after his interview with the Guardian, accounts staff at the AFC recorded in their ledger that he had withdrawn $20,000 as a ‘cash advance for Al Musabbir Sadi’, the president of the Bangladesh FA, and a further $40,000 in cash for an unspecified purpose later the same day.
The irrepressible Seedy Kinteh of Gambia was also knocking on his door once more, this time asking for ‘financial assistance’ to pay for the West African Football Union’s extraordinary general congress in Gambia, including five-star accommodation and meals for all the members, the venue, local transport, dinner and cultural entertainment. ‘Please rest assured of our union’s support and solidarity always. Find below is my bank details for transfer,’ he wrote. Najeeb got on the phone to Kinteh to discuss his needs and then quickly arranged for $50,000 to be wired into his personal account from the funds of Bin Hammam’s daughter, Aisha.
It was necessary to shower his supporters in such generosity if he was to have a hope of defeating Sepp Blatter, the ever-bountiful fount of football’s gold. With typically exquisite timing at the start of March, the FIFA president had triumphantly disclosed that the organisation had raked in $4.19 billion income from the latest four-year World Cup cycle, declaring: ‘I am the happiest man. It’s a huge, huge financial success.’ The income was all tax-free thanks to FIFA’s status as a ‘non-profit body existing to invest in football development’. It had ploughed $794 million in that noble cause, and funnelled a further $631 million into its bulging reserves, which Blatter revealed were now standing at a record $1.2 billion, up from just $76 million in 2003. World football’s governing body had lavished $707 million on ‘expenses’ and its wage bill had swelled to $65.3 million, meaning its 387 employees were paid an average of $168,700 each. Football bosses around the globe were waiting eagerly to hear how Blatter would divide up the treasure when he released his manifesto later that spring.
Bin Hammam had scheduled a press conference on 18 March in Kuala Lumpur at which he planned to tell the world that he intended to stand. Blatter, wily as ever, did his best to overshadow the event by jetting in to the Malaysian capital himself the night before on a whistle-stop canvassing tour of Asia. ‘I feel still full of energy and I’ve not yet finished my work in FIFA,’ he told his press pack. ‘I’m now in my thirteenth year of presidency in FIFA, and the thirty-sixth year to work in FIFA, so I’m available to the congress . . . If there is competition there is competition. I have support from different Asian associations, but I must have the support from whole family of FIFA.’
The next morning, Bin Hammam stepped up to the podium in a packed press room at AFC headquarters, spotlessly turned out in a crisp suit, lavender shirt and blue silk tie. Qatar’s national hero was a little longer in the tooth than he had been when he set off into the foothills of his World Cup campaign three years ago. Behind him was a larger-than-life photograph of an airbrushed version of the man at the podium, crouching over a bright yellow football in his shirtsleeves, giving a thumbs-up with a faintly strained smile. The word ‘FUTURE’ was emblazoned in huge white letters overhead. In front of the oversized glossy image of himself, Bin Hammam looked strangely small and shy as he glanced down at the English words his aides had prepared for him to utter. If he hadn’t been clutching the podium so tightly, his hands might have been shaking. It was strange to see such a rich and powerful man look so nervous.
Treason did not come easily. The FIFA president had once been his mentor, and there was a time when Bin Hammam would have walked the length of the desert in a sandstorm if it pleased him. He had even chosen Blatter over his own heir, staying at his side in that first election in 1998 when he thought his son was dying back in Doha. Of course, the ambitious Qatari had always dreamed of taking Blatter’s place, but he had dearly hoped that the president would one day stand aside and offer his blessing to his protégé as a successor. Bin Hammam knew now that would never happen and the old fox must be destroyed for the sake of Qatar’s World Cup dream. Still, it hurt him to thrust his knife into the heart of a man he could honestly say he had once loved.
Bin Hammam spoke in faltering English as he began his 17-minute speech. ‘Armed with my love and passion for football, believing that our game is about fair competition, I have decided to contest the upcoming FIFA presidential election,’ he proclaimed softly. There – now he had said it. With those few words, he had engaged Blatter in a fight to the death. The announcement wasn’t a surprise to the assembled journalists but they knew this was a significant moment: the man addressing them posed the most serious challenge the FIFA president had ever faced. The rustle of paper accompanied the incessant clicking of camera shutters as the reporters flipped through their notebooks hurriedly jotting down his every word.
The Qatari contender did have some surprises in store. The cornerstone of his campaign was a promise to make the bidding process for future World Cups more transparent. It wasn’t fair, he said, that the FIFA executive committee decided such an important matter on their own behind closed doors. It might give the fans the impression that the decision about where to host their beloved tournament was being stitched up improperly.
‘FIFA’s not a corrupted organisation, but the fact that a few people can take a huge decision affecting millions and hundreds of millions of fans, leaves always that sort of doubt and rumours around the members,’ he said. ‘The people who are working within the football community, they need as everybody hearing and listening more cooperation, more transparency, more fair distribution of the revenues. These are the changes which FIFA is needing.’ For the man who had so expertly exploited the secrecy of the World Cup ballot to stack the deck in his own country’s favour, this was an audacious pitch. But Bin Hammam had got what he wanted by wriggling through FIFA’s seamy slipways and he was ready to shut the door behind him.
The speech ranged through Bin Hammam’s driving ‘passion’ for football and his desire to usher in a new era of ‘ethical, democratic and transparent’ governance which would ‘keep FIFA . . . above any suspicions’. He was confident, he said, that he had done all he could to win the loyalty of enough FIFA officials to decide the vote. ‘I hope that Asia is going to be united behind me, but also the other confederations where I enjoy a lot of friendship and relationships, I hope also those people are going to support me. Blatter is an experienced person, he has made significant contribution to football worldwide but I believe there is a time limit for everything.’
The announcement made headlines around the world, and it drew mixed reactions within the FIFA family. Some were withering. Peter Velappan, who had served as the AFC’s general secretary for 29 years until 2007, said: ‘FIFA will be doomed if Hammam became the president. It would be very detrimental.’ The venerable Malaysian official poured scorn on the Qatari’s promise to bring in more democracy and transparency in FIFA. ‘These are the very things he has not done in AFC. There is no democracy in AFC. He is definitely an underdog but you can’t rule out his influence.’
But Bin Hammam had plenty of devoted followers around the world to drown out that sort of naysaying. One was Ismail Bhamjee, the former FIFA Exco member who had inadvertently spilled the beans about corruption in the World Cup bidding race to the undercover reporters from The Sunday Times the year before. Bhamjee’s son Naeem rushed off a rhapsodic email on his father’s behalf. ‘I cannot tell you the scenes in the Bhamjee household when we heard that you will be standing for FIFA Presidential election – we were jumping for joy,’ he typed. ‘Just the thought of you (a man with a heart of gold and the best of characters) leading World football is so exciting.’
Bin Hammam would not have dreamt of taking on the top job in world football without the backing of his beloved Emir and the custodians of his country’s cherished World Cup. In the days before his big announcement, he had discussed his presidential hopes in detail with Hassan Al-Thawadi and the pair had devised a plan. The former bid chief executive, who was now enjoying his elevation to an even loftier perch as secretary general of the Qatar 2022 Supreme Committee, had promised to help Bin Hammam by hiring a top Swiss lawyer to mastermind his campaign.
On 14 March, four days before the press conference, Andrew Longmate, general counsel to Qatar 2022, had followed up on Al-Thawadi’s promise. He sent an email to Najeeb Chirakal recommending a Swiss lawyer ‘as discussed between . . . Bin Hammam and Hassan’. Longmate noted: ‘He has not been formally approached to represent us but we can do so on request.’ The day after Bin Hammam entered the presidential race, Longmate came back to report a small hitch: a professional conflict had prevented the first lawyer he had recommended from working on the project. Instead he proposed ‘our number 2 choice’ – Dr Stephan Netzle, a Zurich-based attorney who he said ‘comes very highly recommended’. He went on: ‘Although we have not discussed specifics with Dr Stephan, it is assumed that his instruction will be directly with . . . Bin Hammam. Dr Stephan charges at CHF450 per hour plus expenses for his time, which we consider to be reasonable.’
Netzle was a highly distinguished Zurich barrister with a bony face, a crop of thick white hair and a grin so toothy it bordered on a grimace. He had decades of experience in commercial sports law, lectured at the University of Zurich and had served for 19 years in the Court of Arbitration for Sport. Al-Thawadi could hardly have made a superior choice, and Bin Hammam was glad to accept his services.
Netzle received a phone call in March from lawyers acting for the Qatar 2022 committee, asking him to write a report on the legal framework for the FIFA presidential campaign. Once he had completed his task, he was introduced to Bin Hammam, and Longmate took a step back. ‘It is probably inefficient for me to sit between you both given the potential dynamic nature of this process, so I would suggest that you communicate directly,’ the bid’s general counsel wrote in an email. He asked the two men to keep the bid’s lawyers ‘in the loop’ and copy them into all correspondence as the campaign progressed.
The Swiss barrister’s engagement letter, sent to Bin Hammam for signature by Longmate, contained a mandate to provide ‘legal advice and assistance related to your candidacy of the next presidency of FIFA’ and, presciently, ‘to represent you before the competent disciplinary bodies . . . eg the Court of Arbitration for Sport in Lausanne’. In the fullness of time, Netzle would find himself doing just that. But his work for Bin Hammam began with an assessment of the ‘legal framework which governs the election of the president of an association under Swiss law’.
On 29 March, Netzle sent Longmate the report he had commissioned, which was passed to Bin Hammam. At the end of seven pages of analysis came an intriguing paragraph. ‘Finally, in Switzerland corruption (eg a bribe payment) in the private sector is not at all part of Swiss criminal law and therefore not generally liable to prosecution,’ Netzle noted. ‘Although there is a provision in the Swiss Unfair Competition Act which prohibits corruption also in the private sector . . . non-profit organisations are not punishable. In documents relating to the respective Swiss legislative procedure FIFA is named as one of those organisations.’ FIFA was incorporated under Swiss law in such a way that would in effect give presidential candidates immunity from prosecution if they were caught paying bribes, according to Netzle.
The lawyer would later insist that his advice was ‘definitely not’ intended to condone corrupt payments by Bin Hammam. He said he had been asked by a Qatar 2022 committee lawyer to examine the law on bribery to see what recourse might be available in case Blatter tried to skew the election with bribes. Still, the document he had produced offered plenty of reassurance for the Qatari contender as he set out to topple Blatter with the same tactics that had won him his World Cup campaign.
The same day as Netzle submitted his report, Bin Hammam sent out his presidential manifesto, including pledges to increase FIFA’s annual grants to member associations from $250,000 to $500,000 and payments from its Goal Programme fund for poor countries from $500,000 to $1 million. His announcement on 18 March, ten weeks before the presidential ballot, had kicked off another frenzied vote-buying campaign. The rules in this election were different from the World Cup ballot: now, the presidents of all FIFA’s 200-plus member associations had a vote, rather than just the men on the executive committee.
While publicly promising to usher in a new era of transparency if he was elected, the Qatari and his band of loyal sidekicks were tearing around the globe on private jets showering scores of these would-be voters with largesse. The electoral methods were familiar – he hosted a junket in Doha, flew football chiefs in business class to secret summits at five-star hotels, dished out bundles of cash and used the same slush funds that had sealed support for Qatar’s World Cup bid. But this time there was a crucial difference. While Bin Hammam’s successful 2022 campaign was underpinned by a careful strategy deftly executed over two years, the presidential bid was thrown together in just over two months.
Bin Hammam ordered dozens of payments from his Kemco slush funds as he travelled the globe with Mohammed Meshadi, Amadou Diallo, Manilal Fernando, Worawi Makudi and Hany Abo Rida on board. The group zipped from country to country on their whirlwind campaign tour, travelling the length and breadth of Africa, and stopping off in cities throughout Europe and Asia, from Paris and Tbilisi to Beijing and Phnom Penh.
The campaign was given a significant boost when Bin Hammam was invited to join Sheikha Al-Mayassa bint Hamad Al Thani, the daughter of the Emir, on the royal jet as she travelled between charity projects in Bangladesh, Indonesia and Cambodia at the start of April. Bin Hammam had already withdrawn $20,000 as a cash advance for the president of the Bangladesh Football Federation, back in March, and after the royal visit he received a heartening email from another Bangladeshi official. ‘I don’t like to take more of your time since your goodself is very busy to turn all stones to win ever the challenge. However, I would like to sincerely pledge my services of any type under your disposal. I would like to acknowledge that I am greatly indebted to your excellency in heart and soul.’
Those who were willing to pledge such unquestioning support were rewarded handsomely. On 1 April, Bin Hammam received an email in which Viphet Sihachakr, president of the Laos Football Federation, provided his personal bank details with the promise: ‘Any support from me please call any time Brother.’ Makudi40 was copied in to the message. Sihachakr had $100,000 paid into his personal bank account, which he would later claim was to pay for a technical centre in Laos. Rahif Alameh, the secretary general of the Lebanese FA, also received $100,000 from a Bin Hammam slush fund. Ganbold Buyannemekh, the president of the Mongolia FA, wrote to enquire whether the Qatari would be kind enough to fund his daughter’s university studies for a third year, and his wish was granted. The round sum of $40,000 was wired to his daughter’s accounts from Kemco.
Asia was Bin Hammam’s heartland, but he knew that Africa was the true battleground. Blatter was campaigning hard across the continent, promising to share the riches FIFA had amassed from the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. First up on the Qatari’s African campaign schedule was a tour of Gambia, Cameroon and Gabon in the west. A jet was required, and Bin Hammam turned to Al-Thawadi to pay the bill of Chapman Freeborn, an air charter company. On 6 April, Royston Lasrado, the finance manager at Qatar 2022, wrote to Bin Hammam’s assistant: ‘Hassan has approved the payment to be processed. We have sent it to the bank this morning and it should be debited from our account this afternoon.’ Later that day he sent a second email: ‘The payment of USD 142,500 towards Chapman Freeborn was processed at the bank.’ The money was sent to Bin Hammam, who later used one of the Kemco slush funds to pay Chapman Freeborn’s bill. The money trail would come back to haunt Al-Thawadi, when he needed to deny any connection with Bin Hammam to shield the World Cup from the taint of scandal.
The African trip was a great success. Seedy Kinteh, the Gambian FA president who had already received $50,000 into his personal bank account from Bin Hammam in March, signed up to help the campaign for the presidential bid after the visit in April. The next month, Chirakal paid $9,000 to fund Kinteh’s business-class travel around west Africa to drum up support for the campaign among the region’s football association presidents. Kinteh wrote: ‘I was notified of the transfer you did to my account by my bank the amount is received with thanks and much appreciation. The money will be used to purchase ticket for my trips to my fellow national association presidents to consolidate on our campaign goals for Mr Bin [sic] to be the next president of FIFA.’
As well as visiting voters in their own countries, Bin Hammam used his favoured lobbying technique of flying African football bosses into the Qatari capital for a junket with luxury accommodation at the Sheraton. On 17 April, a delegation of African football chiefs – including Bin Hammam’s close allies during the World Cup campaign such as John Muinjo of Namibia, David Fani of Botswana, Adam ‘Bomber’ Mthethwa of Swaziland and Kalusha Bwalya of Zambia – were flown in to meet the Qatari. The payments kept flowing. Four days after the junket, Bwalya received $30,000 into his personal account. Said Belkhayat, a top official at the Moroccan FA, also received $100,000. Later that month, Bin Hammam hosted another meeting of football bosses in Nairobi amid the gleaming silver columns of the five-star Panari Hotel lobby. The delegates flew in business class and were told they would have their flight tickets reimbursed by Bin Hammam on arrival.
By the end of April, Sepp Blatter was ready to reveal his hotly anticipated manifesto explaining how he would divvy up FIFA’s bumper World Cup spoils among his followers. He did not disappoint. The FIFA president promised he would plough a record $1.6 billion into the development of football around the world if he was granted a fourth term. That investment over the next four years matched the entire sum he had spent on football development so far during his 13-year reign.
In a four-page letter sent to the 208 FIFA member associations on 20 April, Blatter stated the need for ‘evolution not revolution’ but promised greater transparency in world football. ‘In these challenging times FIFA needs first of all stability, continuity and reliability. We do not need revolution within FIFA but the continuous evolution and improvement of our game and our organisation,’ his letter said. ‘As you all know, today we are living in an insecure and troubled world. After the global financial crises of 2008–09, today we have to cope with other major global challenges including natural and nuclear catastrophes, countries in financial turmoil, the devaluation of leading currencies as well as political instability in many regions. This shows that FIFA as the organiser of global World Cups and world football’s governing body has to be prepared for the unexpected when it occurs.’
If Bin Hammam had his way, nothing would prepare Blatter for the shock he was cooking up. The Qatari was digging for dirt on his old mentor and waiting for the right moment to tarnish his name. He had hired a team of private investigators called Naduhl Sports Intelligence who reported back that they were intercepting phone calls and emails to monitor the FIFA president’s activities.
On 29 April Bin Hammam was sent an encrypted proposal from Naduhl that offered to provide ‘comprehensive intelligence’ on Blatter for a fee of €1.5 million. The package of services included ‘monitoring and protection’ and ‘ad hoc integrity testing’ of ‘promised votes’. A series of intelligence dispatches followed. One reported: ‘We have received information about media preparations aiming to bring BH into disrepute. Such media messages would have associated BH with corruption and even terrorism. This kind of attempts have been neutralised with immediate effect.’ Another claimed: ‘FIFA intends to have the ballots of JB [Joseph Blatter] voters tagged with a certain sign allowing control of election promises. Shortly before the election, the relevant symbol shall be determined and communicated to the relevant community of JB voters.’
Bin Hammam refused to pay the full $1.5 million Naduhl had initially requested and he doubted the credibility of much of the intelligence they provided. But nonetheless he used the private detectives to search for evidence that Blatter was breaking the rules by exploiting FIFA’s resources in his campaign. The Qatari was convinced that Jérôme Valcke, FIFA’s secretary general, was in league with Blatter against him. One report from Naduhl noted: ‘Intercepted phonecalls of the past four days reveal that the FIFA GS spoke to high ranked politicians of two west African states . . . The major issue of both conversations was the upcoming election, when the federations of both states are supposed to vote for JB.’
Netzle was enlisted to help Bin Hammam apply pressure on FIFA not to allow Blatter to use FIFA’s resources for his own campaign. With the lawyer’s advice, Bin Hammam wrote to Valcke: ‘I kindly request you to ensure that none of the candidates use the funds and or resources of FIFA for their electioneering campaign. FIFA staff if they wish to assist Mr Blatter should resign from their positions before taking part in his campaign.’ Netzle and Bin Hammam kept the pressure up throughout the campaign.41
Bin Hammam was also developing another line of attack with the aid of Dr Urs Linsi, a former secretary general of football’s governing body, who had approached the Qatari with what he claimed was explosive evidence of financial wrongdoing at FIFA’s headquarters in Zurich. Linsi had been sacked by Blatter back in 2007 and had walked away after only five years in the post with a payment of $6.8 million dollars which many regarded as hush money. The jowly Swiss official was enlisted to work closely with Netzle on Bin Hammam’s campaign, and the men constructed a plot to deploy his information on the eve of the presidential vote to cause maximum damage to Blatter.
One email from Netzle to Bin Hammam reports: ‘Dr Linsi has disclosed to me certain financial information which is shocking and certainly works in your favour. I agree with Dr Linsi that it is important that the delegates are informed about these figures in advance of the election. However, the current administration of FIFA should not be given too much time to prepare wordy explanations and defence arguments. Your information especially on the financial situation and the misappropriation of funds of FIFA should rather come as a surprise to the delegates.’
But they never got a chance to drop their bombshell. The entire presidential race was about to be derailed by a firestorm of scandal which would threaten to engulf all of world football.