Jesper Møller, it’s fair to say, is not a natural rebel. The Danish football federation is one of the more progressive authorities, but its president is a conservative with, and let’s be kind here, a healthy sense of his own interests. Last November, though, at the height of the World Cup’s rainbow armband affair, Møller did – briefly – hint at an unexpected radicalism.
Might Denmark consider quitting Fifa, he was asked, and replied: “It is not a decision that has been made now … We have been discussing it in the Nordic region since August … I have to think about the question of how to restore confidence in Fifa. We must evaluate what has happened, and then we must create a strategy – also with our Nordic colleagues.”
The following day, the suggestion was quickly quashed: a “misunderstanding”. Of course nobody was talking about quitting football’s world body. Except Møller had said just that.
Which leads to two questions: first, have there really been discussions about a European exodus from Fifa or was he just saying what he thought the Danish public wanted to hear? And second, what would happen if countries did withdraw? Or to put it another way: does football need Fifa? What is it for?
Fifa was not born of innocence. It was founded in 1904 to standardise the laws and facilitate international competition, but also so the association that represented each country could declare itself official – which is why Robert Guérin, the treasurer of the USFSA, one of three rival bodies that organised football in France, took the lead.
It was under another Frenchman, Jules Rimet, that Fifa organised the first World Cup as “a place of brotherhood and of peace between nations”. Rimet genuinely did have a romantic view of football’s place in the world, although that vision was difficult to sustain during Mussolini’s hijacking of the 1934 tournament to promote fascism.
Since when, what? Stanley Rous, with his colonial attitude and naive belief politics could be kept out of sport that led him to oppose the sporting ban on apartheid South Africa? João Havelange, the arms dealer’s son who led Fifa into its modern era of commercialism and corruption? Sepp Blatter, under whom the corruption became institutional?
And now Gianni Infantino, with his moral myopia and populist vacuity, only ever speaking for the moment. Sometimes – telling mourning Brazilians that every country should name a stadium after Pelé – his naked need for approval is laughable. But often – as with the claim the Qatar World Cup would be carbon neutral – the consequences are more serious.
At least Blatter, with his desire to take the World Cup beyond Europe and the Americas, gave some sense of seeing football as a universal good. Infantino appears to have no obvious concern beyond revenue generation and the protection of his own position. The expanded World Cup and Club World Cup were presented without consultation. Scrutiny is not something Infantino, as a thoroughly modern leader, can tolerate; the removal of 11 of the 13 members of the Ethics Commission in 2017 is not a sign of a functioning regulatory system.
Bloated tournaments means more games means more money means more to distribute to federations who are then more likely to vote for Infantino. More places at the World Cup means more chance to qualify for the African, Asian and Concacaf federations who represent Infantino’s base. Which, were the interests of the federations and football in their countries always aligned, could be a useful corrective to the historical dominance of Europe and South America.
But they are not: frequently the actual sport is forgotten in all the politicking, especially since Issa Hayatou was ousted as president of the Confederation of African Football and replaced by an Infantino loyalist in Patrice Motsepe. That additional games may place an intolerable burden on players, may dilute the quality and reduce the spectacle, seems barely to be a concern at all. There has been no obvious debate within Fifa, no thought given to the football issues involved.
The African Super League, Infantino’s grand plan to elevate club football on the continent, for instance, had been scheduled to begin in August with 24 sides, but instead looks likely to start in October 2024 with eight, bankrolled by Saudi Arabia. Nobody seems able to say how clubs will qualify, how the prize money will be distributed or how the competition will fit around existing domestic and confederation tournaments. As to why Saudi Arabia, which is bidding to host the 2030 World Cup, would want to pump money into African football, who can say?
For Infantino, Gulf money is extremely useful in his power struggle with Uefa. That means, at times, shameful compromise – such as Fifa being willing to overlook Article 4 of its own statutes, which prohibits discrimination on the grounds of ethnicity, gender, religion or sexual orientation, to take the World Cup to Qatar.
While Infantino has the votes, Uefa still has the power, which was demonstrated when the European body faced down the proposals for a biennial World Cup. Fifa needs the Uefa nations and in that regard the close relationship between Uefa and Conmebol, the South American confederation, is hugely significant. The proposal, now mothballed, for South American sides to join the Nations League in 2024-25 seemed a warning shot.
Whatever the substance behind Møller’s comment, he hinted at a vital truth. If the big European nations ever tire of Infantino ruling in effect by fiat, of expanding tournaments or even, implausible as it may seem, on ethical grounds, they could rebel; if the major Conmebol nations could be persuaded to join them, Fifa would have a problem: a World Cup without Argentina, Brazil, France, Germany, Spain or England would not be much of a World Cup at all.
The ruptures would be seismic and, given Uefa’s recent cravenness in the face of the major clubs and state owners, there is no great reason to suppose a new body could be trusted to prioritise anything beyond cash. It’s certainly not a step to be taken lightly. But the possibility for a breakaway nevertheless exists. At the very least it’s a threat that could be used to shape Fifa policy if anybody has the moral fibre to do so.
