It has been fascinating to watch the conversation move on. At the Centurion Club in Hertfordshire in the summer of 2022, the former White House press secretary Ari Fleischer had to withstand a shout of whether he was “accepting blood money” through his association with LIV Golf. Household names in European golf sat on a podium – uncomfortably – while having to defend their defections to a tour funded by Saudi Arabia.
The same issues swirled around St James’ Park as Saudi’s Public Investment Fund bought a controlling stake in the club in late 2021. As fans whooped and hollered at the curtailment of the Mike Ashley era, there was discomfort elsewhere at a British sporting institution falling under the spell of an autocratic regime which has been intrinsically linked to the butchering of Jamal Khashoggi.
Jon Rahm appeared under LIV branding last month. If you scratched seriously hard, you might have found analysis of what the Masters champion’s exorbitant deal meant in moral terms. Last June, the PGA and DP World Tours announced they would kiss and make up with the Saudis; a financial necessity rather than some mutual epiphany. With this news, golf seemed to collectively decide Rahm or anybody else who takes the Saudi dollar could do so with a clear conscience.
The PGA Tour is working desperately to conclude a deal with the PIF which will allow marquee events to have the presence of Rahm et al again. If golf’s grand plan collapses, LIV will continue to stand in lucrative opposition to the status quo. The narrative is of sport and business; human rights, once the automatic reference point for all things Saudi, are barely an afterthought. Golfers may reconcile the source of their pay day in their own minds but they no longer face public scrutiny over the same.
In Newcastle, discourse surrounds whether Eddie Howe can retain his job or whether an injury crisis and the demands associated with Champions League football mean the manager has legitimately extenuating circumstances for a Premier League position of 10th. Just as well for Howe he isn’t dealing with ruthless overlords. Newcastle’s followers are audibly frustrated that financial fair play rules prevent the club from throwing even more money at players. Not even the Saudis can circumvent that.
Rafael Nadal has agreed to become an ambassador for Saudi Arabia’s tennis federation. The inaugural Riyadh Season World Masters of Snooker will take place in March. Presumably snooker halls will simultaneously fly up all over the kingdom. Back in golf, the R&A has confirmed discussions about funding projects in the kingdom with the clear subtext that if there are fortunes flying about, the governing body rather wants a piece. Jordan Henderson’s switch to Ajax was a minor embarrassment to the Saudi Pro League – plus a bigger embarrassment to the England midfielder – but this will pale into insignificance when the next big name trundles along for £30m per year. The 2034 World Cup seems secure, by which time a teenager sentenced to 18 years in jail for voicing support for political prisoners will still have more than a third of her sentence to run.
Recent days served as another timely reminder of what precisely sport may have got itself into. It is not merely linked to Saudi Arabia but in certain cases beholden. Saudi Arabia is estimated to have spent more than $6bn on sports deals. This has always looked a dangerous dance.
Yasir al-Rumayyan is the chairman of Newcastle United. He is the man who has almost single-handedly revolutionised elite golf by deciding Saudi’s PIF could take on the establishment. Rumayyan also reportedly faces a £58m lawsuit in Canada for “having carried out the instructions” of Saudi Arabia’s crown prince, Mohammad bin Salman, with “malicious intent”. The money is irrelevant; the potential reputational cost to umpteen sports should this case rumble on is not.
LIV and Newcastle have diverted questions on the story to PIF, which has thus far had nothing to say. The claims allege that Rumayyan acted with the aim of “harming, silencing and ultimately destroying” the family of Dr Saad Aljabri, the kingdom’s former intelligence chief. The claimants allege Rumayyan was “directly involved” in a campaign lasting more than three years against Aljabri. This is hardly toy-town stuff. Neither is it surprising; even recent history dictated the goose laying sport’s golden egg was highly likely to attract interest for all the wrong reasons. If people were sufficiently willing to pay attention, of course.
The Premier League insisted it had “legally binding assurances” the kingdom of Saudi Arabia would not control Newcastle. Before peace broke out in golf, the Saudis argued Rumayyan and the fund he controls should be spared the giving of evidence during legal wrangling on the basis of sovereign immunity. Eyebrows were raised among some Premier League clubs but, in keeping to form, the matter basically disappeared. Let’s focus on VAR.
The website reprieve.org reports at least 172 people were executed in Saudi Arabia in 2023. Is this a fair trade off for sporting prowess? Amnesty International continues to raise concerns. Its UK head of priority campaigns and individuals at risk, Felix Jakens, says: “If the sheer relentlessness of Saudi sportswashing has meant that human rights issues have recently taken a back seat to the big-name signings and the prestigious events, our assessment is that this is a relatively volatile situation and the pendulum can quickly swing back.
“We’ve recently seen very disturbing reports about the alleged involvement of the chair of Newcastle United and LIV Golf in serious human rights violations, something which is currently being investigated. Beneath the glitz of sporting photo-ops and carefully stage-managed events in Riyadh and elsewhere, the human rights situation is still dire in the country. With the human rights situation in Saudi Arabia still deteriorating, it’s almost certainly no coincidence that the Saudi sportswashing machine has recently been operating at ever-greater levels of intensity.”
Aha, sportswashing. It was once a live thing. Rumayyan’s latest spell in the spotlight dictates it may have been seriously unwise to look the other way. Sport may just be in too deep.
