Inside Lusail Stadium, the grass is verdant, vibrantly colored, and moist. The pitch is still irrigated daily and mowed weekly by a 30-person team 100 days after the World Cup final. Empty white seats glare from stands that once housed swaying, jubilant Argentina supporters. An unseasonable wind howls beneath the canopy that once contained their chants. The adjacent boulevard, where Lionel Messi and his victorious teammates paraded into the December night, is almost deserted, save for groups of south Asian laborers who are filling the spaces between paving stones with fresh cement.
Even though the circus has moved on, there is still work to be done here. Qatar’s partly successful labour reforms leave many at risk of exploitation and abuse, despite its efforts to hide them. Qatar revealed these measures in August 2020, a decade after winning the World Cup, and Fifa called them “groundbreaking.”
The Qataris asserted they were a “significant advance.” According to the UN, they signified a “new era.” Even Qatar’s harshest critics greeted them with caution.
The dismantling of the much-criticized kafala system, which prevented workers from switching jobs, and the introduction of a minimum wage raised hopes that, after years of criticism for the abusive conditions endured by the vast majority of its low-wage migrant workforce, Qatar had finally turned the corner.
Since the implementation of the reforms, Qatari authorities estimate that approximately 400,000 workers have been able to switch employment, and 280,000 workers have seen their pay increase by the minimum wage. Yet, interviews with dozens of employees and experts conducted three months after the “best World Cup ever” indicates that the promises of change have been largely unfulfilled. Fifa’s claim that the World Cup would leave a lasting legacy of improved worker rights in the host nation rings hollow to employees who say they continue to be forced to pay illegal recruitment fees, are underpaid or not paid at all, and have difficulty changing employment or gaining access to justice. Their message is that the reforms “only exist on paper.”
“No human liberties exist here. They simply take advantage of you, says Majid* from Ghana. After the World Cup, they do whatever they want.
Illegal recruitment expenses
The parkkeepers at Al Bayt Stadium, which has held three England matches, have changed little.
The Supreme Committee for Delivery and Legacy (SC) established a voluntary scheme. Whereby companies with contracts on World Cup sites would partially reimburse these fees to their employees. But the Al Bayt gardeners claim they have not yet received any reimbursement.
Prakash, under a tree, says he arrived last year after paying an agent $1,235. He borrowed the money because he could not afford such a fee upfront. Six months later, he still owes more than £600.
This is partial because, like many of his coworkers, he is paid a minimum wage of £1 per hour.
It is a tale repeated across Qatar’s gleaming venues in various grim variations. Stephen*, a security officer who continues to work daily at one of the World Cup stadiums, used a loan to pay a fee of £1,080 to an agent in his native Kenya. He signed a two-year SC-supervised deal in Doha before the World Cup. Each salary pays off £110 in debt and sends £110 to his wife and daughter at home. After that, there’s little food left until October, when he thinks the loan will be paid off.
The voluntary repayment scheme is news to him; he has not received an offer, and despite mounting pressure on Qatar to make such compensation obligatory, there are few signs that this will occur soon. He counts the days until he can start saving while sitting in a remote building site post. Only one stadium employee, a Bangladeshi worker at Stadium 974 who said half of his eye-popping £2,700 fee had been reimbursed, had benefited from the initiative, according to interviews conducted by The Guardian.
The SC’s position is that not all stadium workers are covered by SC contracts. However, all of the afflicted employees were on duty at World Cup stadiums.
According to the Qatari government that it is illegal for businesses in Qatar to levy recruitment fees. Workers should never arrive in Qatar with outstanding recruitment debt.” In 2022, it struck down 45 recruitment agencies for noncompliance with the law. Although it is believed that this is only the tip of the iceberg in terms of lawbreakers.
Prakash and his Al Bayt peers know that kafala reforms will allow them to work elsewhere. However, stadium employees assert that it remains extremely difficult or impossible to do so. “After two years, you can attempt this, but if the company finds out, there will be problems,” says one.
Their accommodation is the only thing that has altered. Following the Guardian’s expose, the men were relocated to a better facility from their filthy, overcrowded camp. After the World Cup, they will move to a compound at least an hour from the arena.
Qatar’s labor reforms resulted from a 2014 complaint submitted by trade unions with the International Labour Organisation (ILO) accusing Qatar of not doing enough to combat forced labor in the country. To avoid the negative publicity that the investigation would generate, the Qataris eventually agreed to a partnership with the ILO to reform their labor system in exchange for dropping the complaint. Several prominent trade unions, including the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC), which had been a vocal opponent of the reforms up until that point, consented to collaborate with Qatar in support of the reforms.
Fifa and the Qataris utilized these partnerships as evidence of their commitment to change throughout the subsequent years.
But as evidence of inconsistent reform implementation grows and the World Cup’s prominence fades, these partnerships appear to be disintegrating.
A coalition of eight global federation unions issued a stinging rebuke earlier this month, stating that since the World Cup, labor reforms have stalled, employers are flouting the law, and cooperation with some unions has “stopped abruptly.”
Ambet Yuson, general secretary of Building and Wood Workers’ International, one of the unions that published the statement, “Legacy? What heritage? They made numerous assurances that they would address issues after the World Cup, but nothing has been done. Their assurances are hollow. As the tournament departed town, so did migrant workers’ hopes.”
Even the ITUC, which under its former president Sharan Burrow had been a vocal supporter of the Qataris, issued a statement this month expressing concern that the Fifa World Cup will leave “no positive and lasting legacy.”
Some of this fury has been directed at the ILO’s Doha office, which has consistently viewed Qatar’s reforms favorably.
The Qatari-funded ILO branch supported a £1 minimum wage. This rate has remained the same for the past two years. The figure was set in the immediate aftermath of the three-year diplomatic crisis that resulted in Qatar’s blockade by its nearest geographical neighbor, a period that had a significant impact on local businesses, according to data from sources close to the situation.
The Covid-19 pandemic is also frequently cited as a factor that decreased leverage, as is the alleged stability of contracted employment relative to the more informal labor economies of south Asia in particular. In a country where a comfortable standard of living comes at a price. However, this job security proves all too often to be illusory, and its monetary value is manifestly insufficient.
There is also no assurance that an employee will receive his entire salary.
After six months, his company deducted £75 from his salary to cover these services.
Since the World Cup, Moses’ working hours have primarily remained consistent at eight hours per day. The focus appears to have shifted elsewhere. While World Cup visitors strolled along the Corniche, dined in the retail malls, and admired the arts and beachside atmosphere at Doha’s impressive Katara cultural center, eagle eyes were vigilant to ensure that nothing was out of the ordinary.
Police asked Katara security if they were following the eight-hour working limit throughout the four weeks. A site employee told that there has been no such concern since the conclusion of the tournament. In general, their hours have remained stable, but now that scrutiny has subsided, this is not always the case. Many mall staff work 12-hour shifts, and overtime abuse means they get the worst deals.
Long-term observers continue to be perplexed by the lack of implementation. Mustafa Qadri, the director of Equidem, an organization that has been highly critical of Qatar’s record on workers’ rights, stated, “Does Qatar’s conduct have no limits? “Is the goal to maintain a partnership or to reach a certain level of compliance?”
Work dwindling
In addition to lax enforcement of laws, a culture of impunity among some employers, and a perception that the world is no longer observing, low-wage workers currently appear to be especially vulnerable. A source with over ten years of building experience said the industry has “fallen off a cliff” since the World Cup.
Construction companies that flourished during the decade-long construction boom preceding the World Cup now face a very different environment as government contracts – “the country’s only client” – have dried up. “Every significant construction company in Qatar is on the verge of bankruptcy at present. As long as work was present and proceeding well, they all lived their best lives. “They believed it would never end, but suddenly it did,” said the source.
Thus, employers are delaying or not paying laborers, middle, and upper management for months. The courts are “overwhelmed” with cases involving employees attempting to secure their wages and end-of-service benefits, according to the source.
Paul and his two Kenyan food delivery drivers back this bleak assessment. Sitting in a park in Doha, they giggle even though their situation is not amusing.
Food delivery firms hired more workers before the World Cup, but demand did not rise. Everyone was observing the World Cup supporters.
But ultimately, there were too many riders and so many roadways were blocked that it became more difficult than ever to make money,” says Paul.
Before Paul could deliver his first order, he owed approximately $1,800. When he arrived at work, the company informed him that he would also have to pay for training to obtain a motorcycle license and a phone to receive orders. During the instruction period of two months, he earned nothing.
Eleven months later, after working 10-hour days for up to 28 days per month, he has only saved approximately £150. He needs £270 per month to pay for food and lodging, according to his pay stubs. “Here, there is no escape. You must labor. You are a captive,” says Paul.
In the aftermath of the World Cup, an investigation by the human rights organization FairSquare revealed that 160 motorcyclists employed by Talabat, but employed by labor supply companies, had not been paid for up to eight months. FairSquare discovered that some of the drivers who submitted complaints were ultimately deported. Talabat informed FairSquare that it was “extremely shocked and astonished” by the allegations that it had not paid its employees and that it was investigating the allegations.
Nick McGeehan, director of FairSquare, stated that the case “demonstrates how simple it is for employers to circumvent wage payment regulations and demonstrates once again that Qatar’s kafala system is alive and well in practice.”
In response to the broader issue of compensating exploited workers, the government stated, “We have a proven track record of compensating wronged workers, and hundreds of thousands of Qatari workers and their families have already benefited from the mechanisms in place.” Qatar’s Employee Support and Insurance Fund has paid workers $350 million (£285 million) since 2018.
