The fall of football’s dictator

For a while it appeared that Sepp Blatter would ride this one out too. Despite FIFA finding itself in the worst corruption case in its 111-year history, its top executives locked up in detention centres and calls for his head from corners as varied as the House of Commons in London to the German government, Blatter had won an unprecedented fifth four-year term as its president. He was his usual brusque self after re-election. “I’m not perfect,” he said in his speech, as the room erupted in applause. “Nobody’s perfect.” But as it turned out, the pressure was too much, even for Blatter. His resignation brought down the curtain on football administration’s perhaps most colourful career—four decades on its governing body and 17 years as president. What makes it possible for a man, soon to turn 80, get through four terms in such a high-profile position? And how does he hang on to power, despite the public denouements, with even his best friends gunning for his chair? Sheer ability to manipulate, some would say.

Blatter was raised in a family of modest means in Visp, a remote Swiss Alpine town. His father worked at the local chemical plant. The brightest of four children, he won a place at Lausanne University. To pay the fees, according to reports, he worked through his holidays at ski resorts, and, for a while, as a singer at weddings. As the story goes, Blatter was known as the king of the playground at the local primary school since he was the only boy who possessed a professional-quality football. After doing his obligatory service in the Swiss military, rising to the rank of colonel, he moved into public relations. It is said that during his employment at the Swiss watchmaker Longines, he became acquainted with Horst Dassler, heir to the Adidas sportswear company. The latter wanted an ally within FIFA and lobbied for Blatter to get the job of technical director in 1975. FIFA was then a shadow of its current self. Housed in a modest building in Zürich, with little resources to go around, Blatter was the organisation’s 12th employee. In a few years, Blatter was general secretary, and by 1998, its president. Within a year of his presidency, however, there were accusations against him. According to reports published a year after he assumed charge, Blatter had spent around $1 million to bribe top officials and secure votes. These allegations of financial malpractice and corruption never really stopped. More recently, FIFA, and in particular Blatter, came under intense criticism for awarding Russia and Qatar the rights to host the 2018 and 2022 World Cups respectively. According to some reports, large amounts of bribes and kickbacks have exchanged hands to make this happen. Various reports have also shown how FIFA’s awarding of Doha the right to host a World Cup is costing the lives of thousands of migrant workers, drawn mainly from South Asia to build roads, skyscrapers and stadiums for the tournament.

Blatter became a much-reviled figure, but continued to rule as football’s virtual head of state. Ever the consummate politician, he won election after election, sometimes unopposed and sometimes trouncing opponents by large margins. It was possible because Blatter had created an empire built on largesse and patronage. In Blatter’s era, the football body grew exponentially, both in revenue and membership. He pushed football beyond the traditional strongholds of Europe and South America into Africa and Asia, awarding both continents the chance to host their first ever World Cups (2002 in Japan and South Korea; 2010 in South Africa). And he ensured that his greedy colleagues got a piece of the pie.

Will he now go as quietly as it appears? There are still around six months for the next election. That’s perhaps enough time for him to settle scores, despatch enemies, and pass the organisation on to a chosen successor. Or will the FBI come for him?

About The Author

Lhendup G Bhutia

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