Modern slavery and its place at heart of next World Cup

Not every slave owner can be found on a plinth in the town square, erected in a previous century. Some of them walk among us, even now — and FIFA keep awarding them World Cups.

Roughly 100 migrant workers at the Al Bayt Stadium in Qatar have not been paid for up to seven months. Hard work, in searing heat, under dangerous conditions, for no money. that’s modern slavery.

Nobody gets stolen from their homeland, or is tipped heartlessly into the sea when no longer of use, yet still it exists. Aren’t we meant to know better now?

A construction company called Qatar Meta Coats are in charge of the project at Al Bayt, a 60,000capacity venue roughly 28 miles from Doha. Like most infrastructure development in the region, the manual labour is mainly from South Asian areas including India, the Philippines and Nepal.

there have been regular controversies over pay and working conditions and significant fatalities. Qatar won the right to host in December 2010 and by June 2015 the International trade Union Confederation claimed 1,200 lives had been lost on projects relating to the World Cup.

the official figure differed slightly. It was zero. Now it stands at 34.

Again there is a discrepancy with alternate reckonings. In 2019, the Nepalese government placed deaths among its citizenry in Qatar since 2010 at 1,426. there are more than two million migrant workers in Qatar, of which 30,000 are directly involved in World Cup construction projects.

When these developments began the kafala system was still in place. Employers controlled many aspects of migrant workers’ lives, retaining passports to stop them leaving the country.

Living conditions and rations remain poor and many are too impoverished to even call home to report ill treatment.

As a result of external pressures — human rights groups and investigations in the media, more than FIFA — kafala sponsorships are meant to have been eradicated.

Amnesty International remains extremely sceptical about the enforcement of this, however. Delays in salary payments by Qatar Meta Coats were known to World Cup organisers since last July, without resolution.

Slavery wasn’t just an abomination committed several centuries ago by white men in wigs and frock coats.

Many of Qatar Meta Coats’ migrant workers received no pay at all between September 2019 and March 2020. Workers who took the company to a labour tribunal in January received promises that were not kept. others were told outstanding pay was conditional on ending contracts early and going home. those who refused were prevented from coming to work.

Many are now in Qatar without residence permits, which can only be provided by their employers, and face fines or imprisonment.

And they paid up to £1,500 for this privilege — the money handed to recruitment agencies finding work in Qatar in the belief it would be lucrative and help support their families.

Does this eclipse the abhorrence of Britain’s historical slave trade? No. But it is a crime against humanity, happening in the here and now. It is not a statue, it is not a relic.

It is every bit as relevant as police brutality in Minneapolis, or prejudice as experienced in any European city. It matters. And yet there is never a mention, not even a consideration that direct action might be taken to stop this. Boycott Qatar 2022? Apply a little pressure for change? What, and tick off the sponsors? Not so much as a murmur.

Lewis Hamilton supported the pitching of a monument to Edward Colston — a 17th century slave trader, whose enormous wealth helped build Bristol — into the River Avon. He called it a racist symbol. He has a

point. Given what we know of Colston, his presence has long been problematic. He is part of the history of the city, no doubt; but whether it is a history to be openly revered in this century is another matter.

If he is now consigned to a museum, and given context, that is the best place for him.

Yet Hamilton (left) is without public qualms about competing in China, Bahrain, Abu Dhabi and, from 2023, Saudi Arabia; all countries where, to quote Gil Scott- Heron’s mighty

Johannesburg, freedom ain’t nothing but a word.

Addressing slavery goes further than the removal of some troublesome bronzes and marbles. In 2011, Mark Webber stood alone among F1 drivers in opposing the Grand Prix in Bahrain, where a civil rights movement had been brutally put down by government forces.

By the time the race was called off amid a backdrop of demonstration, 31 protestors were dead, punishment beatings had been administered with nail- embedded planks and it was reported dissident doctors and nurses had been forced to eat faeces.

Asked about then racing in Bahrain, Hamilton said: ‘We want to, not just for the benefit of ourselves but for the benefit of others.’ No doubt some of the protesters will have almost choked on their faeces in surprise at such generosity.

WHAt must also be acknowledged, however, is that Hamilton is one voice inside Formula One. If he did take a stand against some of his sport’s most dubious hosts, there would be others willing to stay silent and inherit his place in the cockpit of the best car.

Anthony Joshua, and his relationship with Saudi Arabia, is different because he is his own man and chooses to fight there despite many options. And football and Qatar? Let nobody pretend its protagonists are powerless. Gareth Southgate spoke this week of his enormous pride in England’s players and their capacity to stand up for and affect change.

Yet what if those same players took on modern slavery, and its place at the heart of the next World Cup? What if they persuaded their club-mates from other nations to confront this issue, too, so the black lives that now mattered were those whose sweat was helping FIFA construct its next gruesome jamboree?

What if Raheem Sterling or Jadon Sancho could influence others in Africa, or France, or Brazil? Not just black players — white players, all players.

Footballers are not isolated in their industry, like Hamilton. there are enough politically conscious, aware individuals to represent real action, and real change. Colston died in 1721. there is little anyone can do about him now.

But we can change 2020; unless, in football, Gil’s right and freedom really is nothing but a word.