LIV Golf & Peak Sportswashing
The linkages between autocratic politics and iconic sports brands have never been more pronounced
Last month, golfer Matt Fitzpatrick edged out world number one Scottie Scheffler and a rapidly ascending Will Zalatoris to clinch his first major championship at the US Open hosted by The Country Club in Brookline, MA. This was not the story, however, as the event was overshadowed by the emergence of LIV Golf. The Saudi-backed venture, which is splashing around mind-boggling sums of money to peel off both marquee names and lesser-known pros, now poses a direct threat to the incumbent PGA Tour.
Immediately following the US Open, four-time major champion Brooks Koepka became LIV’s latest high-profile “get,” joining the likes of Phil Mickelson, Dustin Johnson, Bryson DeChambeau, Sergio Garcia, and Kevin Na in defecting from the PGA. LIV’s first North American event, held in Oregon, wrapped up last weekend.
The backlash against LIV has been swift and severe—not least from PGA grandee Rory McIlroy:
I’ll concede that it’s plausible LIV Golf helps revitalize the sport and expands its appeal outside Europe and North America. The new format—three rounds, team play, no cuts, shotgun start—offers a genuine overhaul of the existing system. It could just as easily prove to be a gimmicky flop that never gains traction; dispensing massive player paydays before fizzling out altogether. Listening to prominent LIV players speak on the record, it’s hard to escape the conclusion that greed was the primary motivator behind their decisions to chart a new course.
Of course, this is only part of the story. For many critics of LIV Golf, the backlash is less about the specter of a diluted PGA talent pool or mercenary players than it is about the unsavory source of LIV’s funding: Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund (PIF) has plowed an estimated $2bn into the new venture.
Saudi Arabia is an absolute monarchy and a deeply conservative/traditional society. The country’s treatment of migrant workers, record on LGBTQ and gender issues, extensive use of capital punishment, and severe restrictions on independent media and freedom of expression place it near the bottom of virtually every global human rights ranking.
The Kingdom is also a key US security partner and one of the world’s leading oil producers and refiners. Despite periodic bouts of criticism, the US-Saudi relationship remains underpinned by decades of staunch bipartisan support from both Congress and the White House.
Over the past few years, however, the backlash against Saudi Arabia’s draconian style of governance has both amplified and increasingly been directed at the singular figure of Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS). Appointed crown prince in 2017, MBS has asserted his power within the country and throughout the region via a number of dramatic “strongman” actions:
Methodically centralizing power while sidelining political rivals within the royal family under the guise of an extensive “anti-corruption” campaign.
Overseeing the notorious Tiger Squad—a group whose “mission is to covertly assassinate Saudi dissidents, inside the kingdom and on foreign soil, in a way that goes unnoticed by the media, the international community and politicians.” The Tiger Squad drew significant international attention following revelations of their role in the gruesome murder of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi.
Personally orchestrating Saudi Arabia’s extensive bombing campaign of neighboring Yemen; an operation that’s significantly exacerbated the country’s ongoing humanitarian crisis and food insecurity woes.
MBS serves as chairman of the Public Investment Fund.
The moral complications of LIV Golf’s funding source were not lost on Mickelson, who unloaded this stunningly frank assessment when speaking with Fire Pit Collective earlier this year:
He didn’t pretend to be excited about hitching his fortunes to Saudi Arabia, admitting the SGL was nothing more than what he called “sportswashing” by a brutally repressive regime. “They’re scary motherfuckers to get involved with,” he said. “We know they killed [Washington Post reporter and U.S. resident Jamal] Khashoggi and have a horrible record on human rights. They execute people over there for being gay. Knowing all of this, why would I even consider it? Because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to reshape how the PGA Tour operates.”
Peak Sportswashing
Sportswashing can aptly be described as “the use of sports to present a sanitized, friendlier version of a political regime or operation.” The goal is image management. Affiliation with beloved, high-profile athletes, teams, leagues, and mass-scale events draws attention away from human rights abuses or geopolitical rivalry and fosters positive associations between a regime and a sports brand.
This is hardly a new phenomenon: both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union placed great stock in showcasing their superiority by successfully staging Olympic Games and out-competing Western rivals in the medal count.
While sportswashing is nothing new, I maintain we’ve entered a golden age of intermingled athletics and autocracy that now encompasses LIV Golf, the NBA China’s multi-billion-dollar footprint, the Gulf ownership groups behind PSG, Manchester City, and Newcastle United, Qatar’s highly controversial hosting of the World Cup later this year, and the 2022 Beijing Olympic Games.
FIFA boss Gianni Infantino (World Cup), Brooklyn Nets owner Joe Tsai (NBA), and freestyle skier Eileen Gu (Olympics)—much like Mickelson, Koepka, and the rest of the LIV brigade—have all recently come under withering criticism over acting as high-profile apologists for autocratic abuse.
I think there are two key points to be made regarding how we got here.
First, the driving force behind the golden age of sportswashing is globalization itself:
The global trading system has generated staggering levels of wealth for autocratic manufacturing powerhouses (China, Vietnam) and commodities exporters (Saudi Arabia, UAE, Russia) alike without bringing about tangible improvements in human rights or democratic reform. Every one of those societies is less free now than a decade ago.
Economic development plus vastly greater levels of physical and digital connectivity breeds a common cultural language between citizens of autocracies and democracies. This common cultural language is firmly rooted in the globalized spheres of sport, cinema, music, art, pop culture, international travel and leisure, and elite educational institutions.
The relatively unimpeded flow of capital across national borders allows powerful state-run and state-linked investment funds and holding companies to scoop up trophy sporting assets across the West.
Extensive socialization between Western commercial and political elites and their Riyadh, Moscow, Shanghai, and Beijing-based counterparts helps iron out complications and lubricate complex dealmaking.
Second, as I mentioned in Zero-COVID & "The Narrative", autocracy has evolved in response to globalization, social change, urbanization, and the data/information revolution. The post-Cold War triumph of the US-led liberal international order, coupled with the emergence of a transnational human rights movement, exerts constant pressure on authoritarians to moderate abusive behavior.
As the costs of political violence—both internally and externally—have risen, and physical and digital barriers have become more porous, these regimes must place a greater emphasis on public relations and opinion management to legitimize themselves. Plugging into the hyper-popular global sports scene offers an appealing avenue to do just that.
The irony to all of this is that we live in an age of heightened awareness of and concern for the plight of others. Yes, globalization has turbocharged sportswashing (and myriad other forms of reputation laundering) but it’s also widened the circle of empathy for those outside our immediate family, community, country, or ethnic group.
Unprecedented connectivity—underpinned by powerful digital technologies—allows us to quickly gather on-the-ground information, spotlight corruption and abuse of power in countries thousands of miles away, and mobilize fellow citizens to pressure complicit commercial actors and petition our governments to ratchet up the pressure on offending regimes.
These two dynamics—sportswashing, widespread perceptions of total elite impunity, and resurgent autocracy versus a widening circle of empathy and an omnipresent transnational human rights movement—sit in uneasy tension with one another.
Sports are an integral part of modern societies. Prominent athletes, teams, leagues, and events are truly global in their appeal and a major driver of our shared cultural language. For decades, the prevailing metaphor around athletics is that of a bridge allowing us to move past our differences and locate a common humanity.
I think that narrative is (mostly) true, however, it’s also the case that we’re entering a period increasingly marked by rising authoritarianism, anti-globalization, populism, tribalism, and renewed great power competition. The White House frames the defining challenge of our age as competition between democracy and autocracy.
Athletics (unsurprisingly!) are not immune to the larger social, political, and geopolitical forces at play. At various points over the past few years, the NBA, NFL, MMA, and Nascar have all found themselves at the epicenter of America’s culture war. Decisions over World Cup and Olympic hosting and sponsorship, the banning of Russian athletes from participating in international competitions, LIV Golf, or the sale of a beloved sports franchise to a foreign buyer are now closely bound up in our zero-sum cultural, political, and geostrategic conflicts. It’s a reality that the WTA took to heart last year; pulling all of its events out of China for 2022 (costing the tour untold millions) to register its frustration over the country’s handling of the Peng Shui incident.
While 2022—marked by the sterile/restrictive Beijing Winter Olympics, a Qatar-hosted World Cup marred by allegations of mass bribery and extensive slave labor, and the floundering rationalizations of assorted LIV Golfers—embodies sportswashing at its absolute zenith, the reputational costs of associating with autocrats—across every facet of our culture—are also rising.