FIFA World Cup Brazil 2014 is in the knockout stages. Brazil’s team is through to the quarter finals, much to the joy and delight of home fans. Yet to what extent can Brazilians actually celebrate? The tournament has come at much social and economic cost.
Before the tournament a string of protests called the Brazilian government to account for misplaced spending due to the World Cup. The government of President Dilma Rousseff's Workers Party has put health, education, anti-poverty and transport spending on the back burner. In one case a stadium was built in an area where there is no locally based team. FIFA was rightly criticised for taking all ticketing and broadcasting revenue, meaning Brazil would find it hard to recoup its costs (some $11.3 Billion US – including what FiveThirtyEight calculates as ‘over $1000 of stadium construction costs per fan in attendance in four years.’) Brazil was simply told to benefit from a short term tourism uptake, only some of which makes its way into government revenue.
Watching on from Australia, we see brilliant players at work. We see stunning goals from Messi, Neymar and Cahill. We see teams striving to bring strategies and formations together. We marvel at the skill of the Dutch, the fall of Spain and the surprise of Costa-Rica. We see coaches trying to pull off a result with well timed substitutions. We see ‘the Beautiful Game’in action.
Between matches, we also see a little cartoon of sorts, where an idealised version of Brazil’s football loving society is presented as it hosts the Cup. There is wonder, hope and harmony. A boy scores a goal, the Amazon is fitted out with stadia, fans are full of a joy which leaps into the heavens. Social injustice and upheaval is out of sight, out of mind.
The disjunct between what we see and what we don’t see echoes a story by Ursula Le Guinn that Moira Rayner referred to in Eureka Street last year. In The Ones Who Walk Away From The Omelas, there is a society where everyone treats each other well, living harmoniously and happily. Yet the glorious city has a secret. Locked in the middle of the city lives a scapegoat child treated oppressively. When citizens come of age, they are given this knowledge. It is a terrible knowledge, calling each person to a fundamental choice about how to respond. The masses agree to keep the society going by choosing acquiescence. A few walk away in conscience.
FIFA is an unaccountable body which commands nations to spend massive amounts of money in order to have the ‘privilege’ of hosting the cup. Poor host nations end up redirecting money away from social programs that benefit those in need. For FIFA, the benefits of hosting are channeled back to head office; whispers of corruption accompany its deliberations; it has one billion dollars in reserve yet is listed as a charitable organisation; its current president Sepp Blatter is seeking his fifth consecutive term. Money rather than justice seems to guide this organisation, making a mockery of the match day slogan “FIFA Fair Play.”
During his World Youth Day trip, Pope Francis last year visited the Varginha favela, one of the many slums of Rio de Janeiro. Francis, by his presence, gave his blessing to the needs of its residents, many of whom had joined the protest movement. It was here that the effects of the last few years’ massive investment in football stadia and associated public works were felt strongly. Anger and discontent were bristling under the surface.
He sought to console those desiring justice, it being so easy to despair. ‘Dear young friends, you have a particular sensitivity toward injustice, but you are often disappointed by facts that speak of corruption on the part of people who put their own interests before the common good. To you and to all, I repeat: Never yield to discouragement, do not lose trust, do not allow your hope to be extinguished.’
The pre-tournament protests were born in righteous anger and a hope that the common good may soon overcome. For as St Augustine said, ‘Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are anger and courage: anger at the way things are and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.’
Let’s enjoy the rest of the World Cup. But let’s also remember it is a show which financially benefits the few at FIFA to the expense of the many in Brazil. The Beautiful Game needs better stewards. Will its current leadership have the courage to listen to their consciences and walk away? With justice, transparency, and leadership, FIFA’s quadrennial World Cups could well be a time of celebration for all.
James O'Brien holds a BA in Politics from Macquarie University. He is currently enrolled in a Diploma in English Literature at Sydney University. Formerly a Jesuit novice, he enjoys writing, football and the cello. He welcomes tweets @jpeob.