Infantino’s FIFA: Ten years of power, politics, and so-called ethics

Let me take you back to a moment when world football stood on the edge of collapse.

In the early hours of May 27, 2015, Swiss police entered the Baur au Lac hotel in Zurich, where FIFA officials were staying ahead of the annual congress. The operation was carried out at the request of the U.S. Department of Justice, the FBI, and the IRS Criminal Investigation. At almost the same time, the FBI raided CONCACAF’s headquarters in Miami Beach.

Seven senior football officials were arrested in Zurich, and fourteen FIFA officials and associates were charged by U.S authorities.

The charges included racketeering, wire fraud, money laundering, and large-scale bribery schemes designed to enrich football officials through the corruption of international football. The sums initially exceeded 150 million US dollars and later rose above 200 million US dollars.

For many, the arrests felt dramatic and sudden.

In reality, it had been years in the making.

As early as 2009, U.S. authorities had begun building their case. At the centre was a man named Chuck Blazer: a FIFA Executive Committee member, general secretary of CONCACAF, and executive vice president of the U.S. Soccer Federation.

Faced with overwhelming evidence of tax crimes and hidden income, Blazer agreed to cooperate. He became an undercover informant for the FBI and U.S. Department of Justice, and secretly recorded conversations with football leaders using a hidden recording device.

These recordings, combined with years of investigative work, revealed in remarkable detail how money, influence, and decision-making worked at the highest levels of world football.

Blazer later pleaded guilty in 2013 to bribery, money laundering, and tax evasion, and was banned for life from football.

For Play the Game, this investigation also became a small but meaningful moment of recognition. We later learned that two of the lead U.S. investigators had used our website as a source when they began studying FIFA and international sports politics around 2010.

I mention that not to overstate our role, but because it reflects the atmosphere at the time. For years, the type of information and criticism promoted by Play the Game had been dismissed by sports leaders as negative or unhelpful. Yet when investigators sought to understand football politics, this was exactly the kind of material they turned to.

Journalists were key in chasing the bad men

None of this would have been possible without the journalists, and their role can’t be overstated. Over many years, they had uncovered the flow of money, exposed the underlying networks, and documented how wrongdoing and corruption were structurally embedded in the system at FIFA.

Among the journalists who spent years documenting this system, one stands out: Andrew Jennings.

For decades, Jennings investigated corruption within both the International Olympic Committee and FIFA. He was often dismissed, ridiculed, and ignored by those in power.

But over time, his work proved to be accurate.

Jennings described his work in very simple terms. When his children asked what he did, he answered: “I’m chasing the bad men.”

He confronted football leaders directly – following them, challenging them in public, and refusing to accept silence or evasion as answers.

One moment captures Andrew Jennings particularly well. It took place at the Play the Game conference in 2011. Jens Sejer Andersen, the founder of Play the Game, has told me this story many times, and the exchange is in fact on video, so I went back and watched it before coming here.

Jennings had just delivered one of his characteristically uncompromising presentations, arguing that FIFA had come to display traits that were comparable to organised crime – a mafia gang.

In the audience sat FIFA’s newly appointed communications director, Walter de Gregorio.

At one point, Andrew Jennings spotted Walter de Gregorio in the room and called him out directly. In that unmistakable Jennings style, he asked: “How much are they paying you to come in and spin for Blatter?”

Blatter was the FIFA president at the time. Walter de Gregorio pushed back strongly and rejected the comparison between FIFA and the mafia, arguing that the mafia was something else entirely, something linked to violence and death, and that it was disrespectful both to victims and to FIFA to make such a comparison.

Two different understandings of accountability

That moment crystallised a deeper question that would become central in the following years and one that still matters today: Was FIFA a legitimate institution damaged by a few corrupt individuals – or was corruption embedded in the system itself?

It also exposed two very different understandings of accountability. One insisting that those in power must be challenged directly and publicly, the other believing criticism could be spun away, managed, or dismissed.

But Jennings did more than just write about FIFA and criticise their leaders in public. He also literally went after the people who embodied its power.

One of those he returned to again and again was Jack Warner – then FIFA vice-president, CONCACAF president, and one of the most powerful men in the game.

According to the U.S. authorities, he was central to networks involving bribery, racketeering, wire fraud, money laundering, and World Cup votes.

And Jennings pursued and confronted him repeatedly.

Let me show you a brief clip.

When I watch that clip and revisit the history, what stands out to me is what it reveals about the wider culture in FIFA: a football elite that did not expect to be questioned. A culture of impunity. A system where scrutiny was treated as an intrusion rather than as a democratic necessity.

Fortunately, persistent journalists continued their work. Over time, the reporting by Andrew Jennings and others, such as Thomas Kistner, Jens Weinreich, Philippe Auclair, Jean-François Tanda, Lasana Liburd, Nick Harris, and whistleblower Bonita Merciades, and many more, helped shift the debate.

A new president with the same cash incentives 

At the top of FIFA stood Sepp Blatter, FIFA president since 1998.

For years, Blatter managed to survive criticism and allegations through political skill, alliances, and a system built on rewarding loyalty. Even in May 2015, in the immediate aftermath of the arrests in Zurich, he was re-elected to his fifth term as president of FIFA.

However, this time the situation was different.

The scale of the crisis made his position untenable. Just days after his re-election, Blatter announced he would step down and call a new election.

Later, he became the subject of a criminal investigation in Switzerland and was banned from football. Michel Platini, then UEFA president and clear favourite to succeed Blatter, was also brought down and banned.

By then, much of FIFA’s top leadership was either under investigation, suspended, or removed.

This was the FIFA that emerged into full public view in 2015: an organisation exposed, deeply embedded in corruption, with a collapsing leadership and severely damaged legitimacy.

It was in this context of crisis and a sudden vacuum of leadership that Gianni Infantino emerged as a candidate for the FIFA presidency.

At the time, UEFA’s general secretary, Infantino, positioned himself as a reform candidate –  speaking about the need for transparency, democracy, term limits, and stronger governance structures.

Initially, many saw him as a temporary figure. Infantino himself even confirmed that in the early days of his campaign, saying that his candidacy was “not in opposition to Michel,” and that if Michel Platini was cleared to run, he would step aside in “a simple principle of loyalty,” as he put it.

As the February 2016 election approached, however, it became clear that his candidacy was anything but temporary. He launched his campaign in London, joined at Wembley Stadium by former star players such as Luis Figo and Roberto Carlos, as well as high-profile coaches Jose Mourinho and Fabio Capello. It was an early signal of his reach into football’s elite and his willingness to leverage and display those connections.

But what appears to have resonated most with FIFA’s member associations, however, was not his pledge to integrity and to “clean” FIFA, but money. He told the member associations that “the money of FIFA is your money,” and he pledged to increase distributions significantly. And he delivered this message in his speech at the FIFA Congress just before they were about to cast their votes.

It was a message he ran again when he was re-elected in 2019: “FIFA’s money is your money,” he said. “Your money, for the development of football.”

These promises were part of a broader vision: expand tournaments, generate more revenue, and then distribute more money through the system.

And in that sense, there was continuity with the past.

Sepp Blatter had also combined reform rhetoric with financial promises to member associations, like in 2011, when he pledged to distribute more than 1 billion US dollars in development funding to member associations.

Infantino promised a new FIFA but understood one of Blatter’s enduring truths: In FIFA, reform rhetoric may matter – but money builds loyalty.

And when the votes were counted, Infantino stood as the new president of FIFA and delivered the now-famous quote: "We will restore the image of FIFA and the respect of FIFA, and everyone in the world will applaud us and will applaud all of you for what we'll do in FIFA in the future.”

It was actually something many wanted to believe.

Key figures in FIFA's reform structure were removed

But the new era with Infantino did not begin in an atmosphere of unambiguous renewal.

Barely a month into his presidency, his name appeared in reporting linked to the Panama Papers, about contracts signed during his UEFA years with an offshore company. Infantino said he was “dismayed” and that he would not accept having his integrity doubted.

In 2016, only months after his election, he also came under scrutiny in an investigation by FIFA’s own ethics committee.

The issues included:

- potential conflicts of interest linked to the use of private jets arranged by World Cup host countries 

- questions about appointments to senior positions without checking people's eligibility, including the new FIFA secretary general, Fatma Samoura

- and a series of personal expenses billed to FIFA, including mattresses, flowers, an exercise machine, and personal laundry.

Now, these allegations were either dismissed or did not lead to sanctions.

But that is not the key point.

The key point is that the new FIFA president – elected on a platform of reform – was already under scrutiny by FIFA’s own ethics system.

And more would follow.

But by 2017, the tension between reform and control had become intense.

According to reporting at the time, Cornel Borbély – chair of FIFA’s ethics committee investigatory chamber – had begun examining complaints involving Gianni Infantino.

Among the issues under consideration were allegations that Infantino and FIFA’s general secretary, Fatma Samoura, had sought to influence the election of the president of the Confederation of African Football in favour of their preferred candidate, Ahmad Ahmad.

That same Ahmad Ahmad later became associated with misuse of funds, including financing a pilgrimage trip to Mecca and Medina for a group of African football leaders financed with thousands of dollars intended for football development.

What matters here is the timing.

Because at the very moment scrutiny was moving into politically sensitive areas, key figures at the heart of FIFA’s reform structure were removed.

At the FIFA Congress in Bahrain in 2017, Cornel Borbély and Hans-Joachim Eckert, the chair of the ethics committee’s adjudicatory chamber, were pushed out. Both were part of FIFA’s post-2015 reform process and described their removal as “political”.

At the same time, Miguel Maduro was also pushed out.

As chairman of FIFA’s governance committee, Maduro had been tasked with ensuring independent oversight. He had already made decisions that touched on sensitive political interests, including ruling Russian sports minister Vitaly Mutko ineligible for the FIFA Council. Considering that Russia was due to host the FIFA World Cup the following year, in 2018, this was a highly sensitive issue for FIFA.

Maduro later drew a striking conclusion.

FIFA, he argued, had a “systemic problem” – an inability to accept the independence that meaningful reform requires.

Speaking at Play the Game in 2019, he put it very clearly: FIFA, he said, is dominated by two fundamental problems – a political cartel with a high concentration of power, and the absence of effective independent scrutiny. And for that reason, he argued, FIFA cannot truly reform itself from within.

This was a defining moment in Infantino’s presidency.

Because very early on, he signalled that while the language of reform could remain, the independence behind it was far more fragile.

A criminal investigation into meetings with the Swiss Attorney General

But the questions did not disappear.

In 2020, Swiss authorities opened a criminal investigation into undisclosed meetings held in 2016 and 2017 between Gianni Infantino and the Swiss Attorney General, Michael Lauber.

At the time, Lauber was overseeing several FIFA-related investigations, including a case concerning Sepp Blatter’s alleged transfer of around 2 million Swiss francs to Michel Platini in 2011.

The case raised serious questions about transparency, conflicts of interest, and the integrity of ongoing FIFA investigations – and one can only wonder why neither Michael Lauber nor Infantino was able to recall key details of those meetings – and why no official minutes existed of discussions between a sitting FIFA president and the prosecutor responsible for investigating FIFA matters.

Three years later, though, in 2023, the proceedings were closed without charges.

But whatever legal outcome one chooses to emphasise, the broader point remains: Infantino’s presidency did not begin in clean air. It began under the banner of reform, while questions about power, privilege, access, and accountability persisted.

Infantino's friendship with Russia and Putin

And this is where the story moves from internal governance to external politics – from Zurich to Moscow.

In 2010, Russia was awarded the 2018 FIFA World Cup.

It became the first World Cup under Infantino’s leadership, and it offered an early indication of the governing style that I believe has since come to define him: maintaining close relations with political leaders, keeping them satisfied, and deflecting criticism.

In December 2017, six months before the 2018 World Cup in Russia, Infantino warned against what he called a Western tendency to “paint with a dark paint, everything that comes from the East – Russia or the Arab world.”

That was a striking intervention.

Because, let me remind you: this was a host nation led by a president who had invaded Georgia in 2008 during the Olympics, annexed Crimea following the Sochi Games in 2014, and was behind the most extensive state-run doping system in modern sports history, as exposed by the courageous Russian whistleblowers Yuliya and Vitaly Stepanov in cooperation with German journalist Hajo Seppelt.

At the same time, the Russian hosts also faced serious criticism ahead of the World Cup – including human rights abuses and treatment of workers, racism in Russian football, and anti-LGBTQ+ laws. More broadly, this was a state that, under Putin’s rule, had long used sport for political purposes and propaganda.

Despite this, Infantino consistently defended the host nation.

He also actively embraced the political symbolism surrounding the tournament.

Before, during and after the World Cup, Infantino was repeatedly seen in the company of President Putin – at matches, at official events, and in highly symbolic and politically public appearances.

In 2019, Infantino returned to Moscow to meet Vladimir Putin in the Kremlin, where the Russian president informed him that he had signed an executive order awarding him the Order of Friendship of the Russian Federation.

Infantino thanked Putin, calling it “an incredible, unbelievable honour”. Infantino – as many times before – described Russia 2018 as “the best World Cup ever” and praised Russia for disproving what he called the “negative prejudice that existed” surrounding Russia.

A few months later, Infantino returned to Moscow to formally receive the Order of Friendship of the Russian Federation from President Vladimir Putin.

Infantino's extraordinary steps to defend Qatar

If Russia 2018 was the beginning of something, the image below shows where it was heading next.

By this point, a pattern had become visible. It was no longer about a single tournament or host nation. It reflected a broader approach where Gianni Infantino, as FIFA’s president, engaged more closely with political leaders and was moving ever more comfortably within circles of state power.

From Moscow to Doha.

From Vladimir Putin to the Emir of Qatar.

And, as we would later see, increasingly beyond that.

And that brings us to Qatar in 2022.

From the beginning, this World Cup was different.

It was the first held in the Middle East, the first played in winter, and it became the most politically debated World Cup in modern history.

The tournament was surrounded by a wide range of well-documented concerns about labour rights, migrant workers, freedom of expression, LGBTQ+ rights, and, more broadly, the relationship between sport and political legitimacy.

FIFA’s response followed a familiar script.

Football should unite.
Football should not be politicised.
Football should focus on the game.

Infantino was clearly aware of the political sensitivity. From 2021, he spent an extended time in Qatar. He relocated parts of his private life there, rented a house in the capital of Qatar, and had two of his children enrolled in school there.

Infantino defended the move by arguing that the World Cup in Qatar would be a historic event both for the region and for FIFA, and that it was worth the greatest effort. FIFA, for its part, explained that his presence in Qatar was necessary to help organise the tournament.

As with Russia, Infantino consistently defended Qatar, pointing to what he described as Qatar’s progress on human rights.

Then, on the eve of the tournament, came a moment that stood out – one that, quite frankly, surprised everyone, including both Infantino’s supporters and his harshest critics.

In a press conference lasting nearly an hour, he delivered what became known as the “I feel…” speech.

Let’s look at a brief clip of the most discussed part.

It remains one of the most extraordinary public performances of Infantino’s presidency – by any sports leader in fact.

Through the repeated “I feel…” statements, he sought to identify personally with experiences of exclusion and discrimination. He referred to his background as the son of migrant workers in Switzerland and to being bullied as a boy because he had “red hair and freckles”.

By positioning himself in this way, he shifted the focus from Qatar’s appalling human rights record to the alleged hypocrisy of its critics.

He then broadened his argument into a defence of Qatar and a wider critique of what he framed as Western hypocrisy and double standards – something that would be echoed by many academics from the region.

In doing so, he tried to reframe the entire debate surrounding the tournament, and once again demonstrated his willingness and ability to do whatever it takes to defend a host nation under pressure.

Controlling criticism and those who speak out

As with FIFA under Blatter, FIFA under Infantino also pushed back against critical journalists.

At the 73rd FIFA Congress in Rwanda in 2023, in response to growing scrutiny, he lashed out at journalists, asking: “Why some of you are you so mean?”

It was a revealing moment because it echoed something familiar from the era of Sepp Blatter and Andrew Jennings.

The same underlying tension between those who ask difficult questions and those who would rather not answer them.

While Infantino questioned journalists’ motives and tone, many reporters covering FIFA and Qatar 2022 had themselves come under sustained criticism – something I experienced firsthand during those years.

They were labelled biased.

Accused of being orientalist.

In some cases, they were even called racist.

Despite this, many continued their work – documenting conditions, raising questions, and insisting on scrutiny. They did what journalists do best: holding those in power to account.

And for some, there may even have been a small moment of recognition – perhaps even validation – when they later heard the brave Abdullah Ibhais speak at Play the Game in 2025.

Abdullah Ibhais had been part of the system.

He worked for Qatar’s Supreme Committee as a media manager for the World Cup – until he refused to downplay the mistreatment of migrant workers and became a whistleblower.

When he took the stage at Play the Game 2025, he revealed and summarised Qatar’s strategy in three words:

“Deflect. Discredit. Deny.”

He exposed the realities behind the World Cup project and delivered a powerful and chilling testimony about how journalists were monitored, profiled, and managed to shape a flawless global image of Qatar.

He described how media access became a tool of manipulation – how they were rewarding “friendly” reporters with exclusives, while sidelining or surveilling those who dared to be critical. They had profiles for journalists, he explained: who was friendly, who was supportive, who was easy-going, who was critical, and who was problematic. And they had a strategy to handle each and every one of them.

Abdullah Ibhais paid a heavy price for speaking out. He was arrested in 2019, imprisoned for more than three years, and separated from his family.

And yet, standing on that stage, his message was not one of bitterness, but encouragement:

“Do not despair and do not stop,” he said. Because, as he explained, critical reporting was the only thing that kept them on their toes. “They were always worried about the next negative piece that would come,” he said.

Whistleblowers rarely see themselves as heroes. But without their courage, the truth about corruption, abuse, and manipulation in sport would remain hidden.

As Jens Sejer Andersen also reminded us at Play the Game 2025:

“These people do not attract attention to themselves by making irritating noise. They provide essential documentation that enlightens us about how sport works behind the glossy surface.”

The price they pay is often severe – loss of career, reputation, freedom, and sometimes even personal safety. Yet without them, sport would remain blind to its own failures.

That’s why, at Play the Game, we continue to give space to those who risk everything to defend honesty, human dignity, and freedom of expression in sport.

But you have heard nothing about this from FIFA and Infantino. Instead, he has continued to engage closely with Qatar, visiting the country regularly and praising the Qatar 2022 World Cup. He has even awarded Qatar the hosting rights for the FIFA U-17 World Cup from 2025 to 2029.

So much for a “new FIFA.” So much for the promise that everyone in the world “will applaud” FIFA.

And if this is how criticism was managed in Qatar, what happens if this model becomes even more deeply embedded in FIFA’s future?

Saudi Arabia and the consolidation of power

Because now, we are also looking ahead to the 2034 FIFA World Cup in Saudi Arabia.

In many ways, placing the world cup in Saudi Arabia was not the result of an open and competitive bidding process. It was a tournament effectively served on a plate for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

And once again, football is being tied to a host nation with severe human rights abuses – something the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, FIFA, and its member associations have shown little appetite to discuss.

Saudi Arabia has indeed introduced some reforms, but the overall human rights situation remains deeply troubling.

Journalists, critics, and activists continue to face repression – including arbitrary arrests and torture.

Women’s rights also remain restricted.

And those who speak out and have pushed for reform – such as Loujain Alhathloul – have been silenced and have paid a high price.

According to Amnesty International, she has been subjected to torture, sexual abuse, and other forms of mistreatment, all while being denied access to her family and legal counsel.

At the same time, migrant workers – who will also help build the infrastructure and stadiums for the 2034 World Cup – continue to face horrific working conditions, wage theft, and abuse.

So once again, FIFA is aligning itself with an autocratic regime marked by serious human rights abuses – some of them directly connected to 2034 World Cup itself.

In October 2023, a decisive step was taken when FIFA announced the framework that effectively paved the way for Saudi Arabia to secure the 2034 World Cup.

Once the 2030 World Cup was allocated elsewhere, and due to FIFA’s principle of confederation rotation, only countries from Asia and Oceania were eligible. And potential bidders were given less than a month to submit their bids.

Just 81 minutes after FIFA’s announcement, Saudi Arabia declared its intention to bid.

And as the deadline approached, Australia, the only realistic alternative, decided to withdraw.

From that moment, the outcome was no longer in doubt.

But Infantino had more to come.

In October 2024, FIFA revealed that the decisions for both the 2030 and 2034 World Cups would be made en bloc.

That means instead of voting on each host separately, member associations were asked to cast a single yes-or-no vote for both tournaments at once.

And in the end, there was actually no formal vote at all. No real contest and no meaningful open debate.

The decision was approved by acclamation during a virtual FIFA session.

So, when we speak about Saudi Arabia hosting the 2034 World Cup, we are also speaking about a process that Infantino’s FIFA made possible.

And if there were any doubts about FIFA’s and Infantino’s position, they were quickly removed.

FIFA’s own evaluation report of Saudi Arabia’s 2034 bid did not treat human rights issues as a fundamental risk. Instead, the report framed the tournament as an opportunity and suggested it could act as a catalyst for reforms and “positive human rights outcomes”.

That reasoning is familiar.

We have heard it before: the idea that awarding major sporting events to authoritarian states will somehow drive reform.

But time and again, FIFA has shown far more willingness to trust such promises than to confront the underlying realities.

And from a governance perspective, there is another troubling point.

FIFA’s evaluation relied heavily on a so-called independent human rights assessment produced by Clifford Chance – a law firm with longstanding ties to the Saudi state.

Already when their report was released in July 2024, Play the Game highlighted significant conflicts of interest that raised serious doubts about the report’s independence.

Fahad Abuhimed, a partner at Clifford Chance, was particularly noteworthy. He has served as a board member of the government-owned Riyadh Airports Company, as deputy minister for Laws and Regulations, and as an advisor for various high-profile state activities like Neom and Saudi Arabia’s sovereign wealth fund.

So, what was presented as independent scrutiny appears, in reality, to be the complete opposite, and more like controlled validation.

A presidency defined by proximity to power

Just as we saw with Vladimir Putin and with the leadership in Qatar, Gianni Infantino has built a close and visible relationship with Saudi Arabia’s leadership – especially Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.

They have met repeatedly.

At official meetings.
At events.
And at other sporting events hosted in the Kingdom.

And it is something that is actively communicated.

Most recently, just a few days ago, Infantino met once again with Mohammed bin Salman.

And afterwards, he publicly thanked the Crown Prince on his Instagram for his support and described the 2034 World Cup as a tournament that will be “spectacular” and “bring the world together.”

What we are seeing is sustained political proximity to especially autocratic leaders – something Gianni Infantino has cultivated over time.

A June 2023 investigation by journalist Anders Dehn for the Norwegian magazine Josimar showed that Infantino consistently presents himself alongside political leaders and disproportionately with authoritarian ones. Nearly three times as many of his public images feature authoritarian-leaning leaders compared to democratic ones.

And in recent years, no relationship has been more visible than with one of the leaders connected to the upcoming World Cup in 2026.

A World Cup hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico – but increasingly shaped by the political presence of Donald Trump.

Infantino has met Trump on numerous occasions and has increasingly acted less like the president of a global sports body and more like a loyal political guest.

He has praised Trump publicly, aligned himself with his initiatives, and placed FIFA ever more comfortably within Trump’s orbit.

Infantino even presented Donald Trump with a newly created FIFA Peace Prize with no formal nomination process and no transparent criteria.

And he has worn a “red cap” marked with ‘USA’ and ‘45-47’ – a clear reference to Trump’s non-consecutive presidencies. He wore it while he attended the inaugural meeting of The Board of Peace, which was established by Donald Trump.

Back where it all began

And there is a final irony in this story – something that connects FIFA, Infantino, and Trump to the old days of FIFA.

Do you remember Chuck Blazer? The FIFA executive who became an FBI informant and helped expose FIFA and bring down the leadership of FIFA in 2015.

Blazer lived in Trump Tower in New York. In fact, he had two apartments, one for himself and one for his cats.

Fast forward to July 2025,  and FIFA opens a new office in Trump Tower.

So after ten years of Infantino as president, we find ourselves back where this story began. And that brings me to the conclusion of this talk.

What kind of FIFA has Gianni Infantino actually built? He came to power in a moment of deep crisis. He promised reform, he promised transparency, and he promised a new FIFA that the world would applaud.

My conclusion is this:

He surely delivered. He did reshape FIFA – just not necessarily in the way many had hoped for in 2016.