Keir Radnedge
Beckenbauer is ruined
Franz Beckenbauer is the greatest German footballer of all time: captain and then coach of World Cup-winning teams in 1974 and 1990, creator of the attacking sweeper role and an international on 103 occasions.
He later put that reputation to triumphant service as leader of his country’s bid to host the 2006 World Cup, and then as president of the organising committee of the finals.
But, like Icarus, he flew too close to the sun.
He was a compromised member of the corruption-scarred FIFA executive committee which awarded the 2018 and 2022 World Cups to Russia and Qatar. The wax melted, the wings dropped off, and “Der Kaiser” tumbled back down to earth.
In recent weeks Beckenbauer’s shadow has clouded the legal skies over the Swiss Federal Court as it prepared to tackle a 2006 World Cup scandal involving four powerful figures in the international game, a mystery loan, a slush fund and a gala that never was. That was until the coronavirus brought proceedings to an abrupt halt and offered Theo Zwanziger, Horst R Schmidt, Wolfgang Niersbach and Urs Linsi innocent light at the end of their tunnel. A statute of limitation on such fraud cases expires on April 27 and there is no way this trial can conclude by then.
This is far from the only FIFA-linked file in the purview of the Swiss courts. Around 24 further cases bobble along, most arising out of the 2018 and 2022 World Cup awards, and the future of them all is now in question – for reasons other than coronavirus.
The latest case was sparked by events during the 2006 World Cup bidding campaign. Along the way, Beckenbauer had floated the concept of a gala opening ceremony separate from the formal opening match.
Nothing more was heard of the idea until after Germany had won the ballot. Asked about the opening gala, Beckenbauer dismissed the project as having been judged too costly. And that was the end of the matter. Except it was not.
The 2006 finals were a huge success in which Beckenbauer, DFB president Zwanziger, generalsecretary Schmidt, communications chief Niersbach and FIFA generalsecretary Linsi could all bask.
Years later, in autumn 2015, a damning letter emerged from a dusty old DFB file. This revealed that in April 2000 Beckenbauer, on behalf of the bid committee, had obtained a loan of 10.3million Swiss francs from the French-Swiss businessman Robert Louis-Dreyfus. The latter was then CEO of Adidas, whose long-time ambassadors included Beckenbauer.
Niersbach claimed later that the monies had been needed to meet initial organisational costs and had been set against funds due from FIFA.
The German media suspected a slush fund, particularly when it alter emerged that a similar sum had ended up in the hands of Mohamed bin Hammam, the infamous but influential Asian president.
When Louis-Dreyfus demanded his money back it was repaid not directly by the DFB but by FIFA. Niersbach would excuse this as repayment of a cultural event subsidy originally assigned for that non
Like Icarus, Beckenbauer flew too close to the sun. He was a compromised member of the corruption-scarred FIFA executive committee
existent opening gala.
Other complexities arose. These included Beckenbauer’s pay package and unexplained links with a betting company. These issues set the German taxman in hot pursuit of not only Beckenbauer but Zwanziger, Schmidt and Niersbach for what they knew or did not know about bid revenues.
On March 9, the Swiss Federal Court opened the fraud trial of Zwanziger, Schmidt, Niersbach and Linsi relating to the mysterious loan. Beckenbauer was not charged because of his frail health.
However the coronavirus outbreak left judge Sylvia Frei no option but to adjourn the trial indefinitely.
Meanwhile, Zwanziger, Niersbach and Schmidt must still contest tax evasion charges in Germany over their questionable bid committee accounting, while Beckenbauer sits reclusively at home in Austria with his reputation in tatters.