The Ugly Game: The Qatari Plot to Buy the World Cup

by Heidi Blake

  ‘I’ve found a whole chain of emails which show that Bin Hammam set up top-level bilateral gas talks between Qatar and Thailand for Worawi Makudi,’ she said, standing over her colleague with her hand on her hip. ‘I thought you might be interested?’ Calvert looked quizzical.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Come and look!’

  Calvert shuffled across the room on his wheelie chair and parked himself in front of his colleague’s computer. He looked shattered. She leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the name Sim Hong Chye in the address line of an email on the screen.

  ‘Look. Bin Hammam is arranging for this guy to go and see Qatar’s deputy prime minister, who’s in charge of energy, to talk about a massive gas deal between Qatar and Thailand. It’s worth tens, hundreds of millions. Maybe billions.’

  ‘But who is he?’ Calvert asked. ‘I don’t recognise the name. What’s he got to do with football?’

  ‘I was confused too, but he usually goes by an alias. This is Joe Sim, Worawi Makudi’s chief advisor at the Thai FA. The guy who owns all the casinos.’ Calvert raised an eyebrow.

  ‘So, Bin Hammam’s setting up gas talks for an associate of a major voter.’ He peered at the screen. ‘And it’s August 2010, so just months before the World Cup vote.’ He wrinkled his nose.

  ‘It’s very smelly. But how do we know what went on in that meeting? For all we know nothing was agreed.’ Calvert had a maddening, but often crucial, habit of zoning straight in on the single gap in a piece of information, without missing a beat. But Blake was prepared.

  ‘Something was agreed. The emails show they’re talking about the sale of liquefied natural gas from Qatar to Thailand. I’ve just checked it out, and at the time Thailand was planning to buy millions of gallons of the stuff, but they were trying to drive Qatar down on the price. And the Qataris agreed – the deal was done, after this meeting.’ Calvert was tugging his bottom lip and nodding slowly. Then he gave half a smile.

  ‘Okay. You’re right. That is big.’

  They agreed it was too late to delve into this now – they needed to come back to it with fresh eyes. It was time to drive back to their hotel and knock themselves out with a few single malts at the bar before sloping back to their rooms and crashing out. They had never slept so deeply as they did during those strange months.

  The next morning, the journalists were back at their screens bright and early, dividing up all the keywords they could think of associated with the deal. There was ‘Brian Teo’, a Singaporean businessman from the gas instruments company ‘Alco’, who accompanied Sim to meetings with two Qataris in charge of the country’s energy sector, ‘Abdulla bin Hamad Al-Attiyah’ and ‘Abdul Aziz bin Ahmad Al Malki’. Then there was ‘Qatargas’, the company selling the gas, and ‘PTT’, the Thai state energy company which wanted to buy it at a lower price. Through their searches, they pieced the deal together. It was suddenly clear that the Qatari plot to buy the World Cup had not just consisted of the bungs Bin Hammam had paid to football officials to drum up a groundswell of support across Africa and Asia, and the direct deals they could see he was doing with the voters on the FIFA Exco. There was a third tier to the strategy: Bin Hammam had apparently arranged for Qatar to use its vast mineral muscle to court FIFA voters through major geopolitical trade deals. The story had just got much bigger.

  Ten

  The Casino King, the Thai Voter and the Gas Deal

  In the south-eastern corner of Thailand, the seabed was being dredged and a small army of workers were beavering away on the shoreline slotting together a giant Meccano set. Cranes heaved huge steel pipes onto a long jetty snaking over the water to a thin strip of reclaimed land where powerful pumps and storage tanks were being assembled. The new terminal in the port of Map Ta Phut would be the first of its kind in the region, and Thailand was very proud of the cutting-edge technology it was introducing to secure its energy supply for the future.

  The terminal was being built at a cost of $880 million to perform a single task: to receive and recondense liquefied natural gas (LNG). In order to transport the largest possible quantities, the gas is cooled and compressed until it becomes a dense liquid, that is then shipped around the world in the holds of enormous supertankers. Map Ta Phut was designed to accommodate these giant vessels, offering a deep harbour and the necessary maze of pipes to bring their precious cargo on shore. Once there, the fluid would be reheated into its original gaseous state to be despatched as much-needed fuel to power Thailand’s burgeoning economy. This industrial landscape could not have been further removed from the playful pursuit of international football but, from more than 3,000 miles away, Mohamed bin Hammam had his sights set on the new port at Map Ta Phut. It would have an important role to play in his relationship with one of the key voters who would decide whether Qatar was to host the 2022 World Cup.

  The supplier of the fuel for the Thai terminal would, of course, be Qatar. While the Gulf state did not have a monopoly in the global export of natural gas, it was the world’s leading producer. It had the stuff in abundance, and the prices it set for hydrocarbon resources could make or break a fragile democracy like Thailand. In the summer of 2010, Thailand also had something that Qatar wanted badly: the vote of Worawi Makudi, its FIFA executive committee member. Bin Hammam didn’t know much about gas, but he knew how to spot an opportunity to make a deal and reward a loyal ally.

  It was a sweltering Sunday evening in Doha in mid-August 2010, and a secret cabal of guests were checking into the Sheraton Hotel on the West Bay waterfront. They had flown in from Egypt, Nigeria and Thailand at short notice for a summit. Each was greeted warmly at the hotel’s reception and placed on Bin Hammam’s charge account. The billionaire was taking care of everything, including the mini-bar. ‘Their charges at hotel for Room, Meals, Laundry and all extras will be settled on our account,’ Najeeb Chirakal had informed the hotel in an email shortly before the arrivals. The first to make his way past the lobby’s indoor palm trees was the short, round figure of Amos Adamu, dressed for the heat in his white African boubou robe.

  The Nigerian FIFA executive committee member had his wife, Muna Alabwaina, at his side, watching as a porter piled their collection of straining suitcases onto a trolley. Bin Hammam had also picked up the bill for Mr and Mrs Adamu’s business-class air tickets from Lagos to the tune of £4,500 return. The Adamus were followed by a robust, balding man in a camel-coloured suit and shades. It was the Egyptian voter Hany Abo Rida, with his own wife on his arm. They had also been treated to first-class flights from Cairo, setting Bin Hammam back £2,500 for their tickets. As the two couples made themselves comfortable in their executive suites and enjoyed a refreshing drink on their balconies overlooking the Persian Gulf, a third member of the cabal came strolling through the hotel’s revolving glass door and past the atrium water feature. It was the squat Thai voter Makudi, flanked by two unfamiliar figures.

  There should have been a fourth executive committee member checking in to the hotel with the others that night. Jacques Anouma had accepted Bin Hammam’s invitation to attend the secret meeting, but he had been forced to pull out at the last minute under orders from his close associate, the country’s bloodthirsty premier Laurent Gbagbo. The presidential elections were looming in the Ivory Coast and Gbagbo had asked Anouma to be at his side as he toured the country during the celebrations for the 50th anniversary of independence. You didn’t say no to a man like Gbagbo, who had a nasty habit of sending out death squads to terrify and murder those who displeased him. So Anouma had been forced to disappoint his friend Bin Hammam. That was a pity, because with less than four months to go before the big vote, the intention had been to bring together four of the staunchest supporters of Bin Hammam’s World Cup campaign for the summit in the hotel that night.

  Adamu, Anouma and Abo Rida were big advocates of Qatar 2022 on the back of Bin Hammam’s efforts in Africa, and Makudi was his most trusted side-kick in Asia. Of all of them, the Thai and Egyptian were by far his most steadfa
st allies. These two were so loyal that they were widely said to have entrusted their 2018 votes to Bin Hammam, so that he could bundle them up to trade with the European bidder who could offer Qatar the most votes in return. Even without Anouma, there would be plenty for the four Exco members to discuss over dinner that evening.

  The other two guests on Bin Hammam’s charge account at the hotel that night were the unfamiliar men who had strode into reception alongside Makudi. Their Qatari host believed in hierarchy, so he had instructed Chirakal to book these two lesser mortals into single rooms rather than the plush suites he bestowed upon his friends from the ranks of FIFA royalty. They were, nonetheless, essential. Makudi’s two companions were in town at Bin Hammam’s invitation to discuss a massive gas deal, whether or not the other men from the Exco knew it.

  The first of the pair was Makudi’s right-hand man, the caddish Sim Hong Chye – known throughout Asia as Joe Sim, the ‘Casino King’. Sim was a self-styled venture capitalist from Singapore who had been given the title of chief advisor to the Thai FA. He was not an obvious choice to give counsel on football matters – and even less so about gas. He was more at home with roulette, blackjack and poker, having earned his nickname running a string of gambling dens in Sri Lanka before fleeing the country during a police crack-down on such establishments. Sim had gone on to become a wheeler-dealer businessman, drumming up investments in various dubious consortiums, proposing leisure complexes and golf courses which often didn’t quite come to fruition. Now that his main business was football, he would impress potential clients by speed-dialling his acquaintance Sir Alex Ferguson, the manager of Manchester United, on his mobile phone. With him was a fellow Singaporean called Thian Sang Teo, though he went by the name of Brian. Teo’s obscure company, Alco, in Singapore sold monitoring equipment to the oil and gas industries but, like Sim, he was new to the world of bilateral trade negotiations.

  Bin Hammam had made special arrangements for this pair to meet one of the most powerful men in the country. The next morning, they would be taken to see Abdullah bin Hamad Al-Attiyah – Qatar’s deputy prime minister, energy minister and chairman of the state-owned Qatargas company. This firm was the commercial entity that made Qatar the biggest LNG exporter in the world, and consequently one of the chief sources of the small nation’s unrivalled per-capita wealth. It boasted on its website that ‘For the Qatari people and Qatari society, [Qatargas] has had a very positive impact on our lives, prosperity and well-being. It affects our economy and the development of our country.’ Perhaps it was a bit of a risk to send two complete novices in to meet so lofty a figure, but whatever others might think of him, Makudi trusted Sim more than anyone. The Casino King was therefore the ideal person to represent Bin Hammam’s friend’s best interests at the talks the following morning.

  The next day Sim and Teo were up early to be chauffeured to the diplomatic district of Doha. The car pulled up outside a vertiginous mirrored building, shaped like a blade to slice through the prevailing Gulf winds. The 52-storey Navigation Tower was home to both the Ministry of Energy and Industry and Qatargas – the twin fountainheads of the Gulf state’s torrential wealth. The businessmen were whooshed straight up to the top floor to meet the man credited by many as the architect of Qatar’s economic success.

  Abdulla bin Hamad Al-Attiyah had pure white hair set against a flawless bronzed complexion which looked buffed by years of exposure to the abrasive desert breeze. At the age of 58, even his lofty title of deputy prime minister failed to convey the true power and influence he had accrued. When Sheikh Hamad had seized control of the country from his father in 1995, Al-Attiyah had already been at the helm of Qatar’s energy policy for more than a decade and he was a wise counsellor. He had formerly led OPEC, the all-powerful oil and petroleum trading bloc, and he was a kindred spirit who shared the Emir’s reforming instincts. So after the coup he was unleashed to make the most of Qatar’s hydrocarbon resources, and he became a trusted friend of Qatar’s ruler. Prosperity quickly followed, but Al-Attiyah kept driving forward with the goal of making his country the world’s biggest supplier of liquefied natural gas. Having achieved that dream, and by some margin, the energy industry was his fiefdom, both at home and abroad: he sat at the head of the international Gas Exporting Countries Forum which controlled the global trade of natural gas. This was a man who could save Thailand billions of dollars at the wave of a hand, if he so chose.

  Al-Attiyah could have been forgiven for thinking that the two men who were ushered into his office on 16 August 2010 – the ‘Casino King’ and sidekick – were a touch out of their depth, but he was as effortlessly polite and gregarious as ever. They were there to discuss a gas deal between Qatar and Thailand and, by meeting them, he was told he was doing a great service to relations between the two countries in the world of football. Perhaps the connection between energy and sport wasn’t immediately obvious – Al-Attiyah wasn’t a great football fan and he didn’t involve himself much in his country’s ambitions on that score. But everyone knew how much this business mattered to his old friend the Emir. He was happy to help.

  Thailand at that time had found itself in a bit of a bind. Its own modest natural gas production capacity wasn’t enough to keep pace with the country’s rapid economic expansion, and the government had laid down plans to secure its energy supply by beginning to import the fuel in the liquefied form. In January 2008, the Thai state energy company PTT announced plans to build the Map Ta Phut port to make the importation of liquefied natural gas possible for the first time. Qatar had quickly emerged as the obvious supplier. Qatargas signed a heads of agreement with PTT in February 2008 to provide one million tons of LNG a year at a fixed price for a decade once the terminal was completed.

  Ten months after the agreement was signed with Qatar, the Thai state energy company had reached for its chequebook and struck a sponsorship deal with the Thai FA amounting to $2.2 million over three years. The latest payment of $750,000 had been made in March 2010, and Makudi was named as the ‘beneficiary representative’ of the Thai FA when the money was signed over. By then, the construction of the Map Ta Phut terminal was well underway, but alarm bells had started to ring. PTT had firmed up the deal to buy its gas in bulk from Qatar at a fixed price over ten years by signing a memorandum of understanding, but the price of the commodity had plummeted by almost half on the international market since the initial agreement was signed. The favourable price they had shaken hands on in 2008 looked like a terrible deal for Thailand by 2010. It would be much cheaper, as things stood, for PTT to take its chances and buy gas piecemeal on the rapidly fluctuating spot-market than to stick to the arrangement with Qatar. But that approach would be riddled with uncertainty. PTT wanted to buy its gas cheap, but it also wanted to ensure the security of the country’s energy supply over the next decade.

  In May 2010, an executive from PTT had broken ranks and briefed journalists that its ten-year agreement with Qatar would lock the company into prices 20 per cent above the current market value. This was clearly a catastrophe. It would mean paying billions of dollars extra over a decade if Map Ta Phut was to move to full capacity as intended. The company sought advice from the Thai government and announced that it would have to buy its initial consignments of gas for the terminal on the open market.

  As the world’s biggest exporter of LNG by a vast margin, Qatar remained the obvious supplier. Thailand was effectively asking the Gulf country to forget the original ten-year deal, and start selling it shipments at the rock-bottom spot price when Map Ta Phut opened in less than a year’s time. It also desperately needed the certainty of a new long-term arrangement with the Gulf state, and that was what the country’s envoys were trying to pressure the men from Qatar into accepting. But importing gas simply didn’t work like that: either you signed up for the long haul, stuck to the agreed price and shielded yourself from the vagaries of the market, or you took the risk on fluctuating costs. Thailand was trying to have its cake and eat it. Why should Qatar yield
to such petulant demands?

  When Sim met with Al-Attiyah, there were therefore two interlinking issues preoccupying Qatar and Thailand. Would Qatar be willing to start selling its gas to PTT at the cheaper spot market price to help get Map Ta Phut up and running? And were the country’s rulers prepared to countenance a new long-term deal at a lower fixed price than had been previously agreed? Neither move looked much in Qatar’s interests. It might have been a tough sell in normal circumstances.

  But the meeting Bin Hammam had set up for Makudi’s lieutenant went well. Ten days later, Sim sent Al-Attiyah an email, copying in Bin Hammam and Makudi. He confirmed that an ‘LNG sale’ had been agreed and that the meeting with Al-Attiyah had done wonders for football relations between Qatar and Thailand. Sim was effusive. ‘Your Excellency,’ he began. ‘It was a great honour for me to have an audience with Your Excellency on 16th Aug 2010. My team, sincerely, would like to thank Your Royal Highness for all your kind supports in promoting the bilateral co-operations in soccer developments and activities between the Qatari FA and Thai FA. With Your Excellency granted permission, I will liaise with the CEO of Qatargas Operation Company Limited for a meeting to conduct all the follow up actions on the LNG sale. Your Excellency, I have the honour to remain Yours humbly, Joe Sim Chairman of Venture Group.’ The chief executive he was referring to was Sheikh Khalid bin Khalifa bin Jassim Al Thani, the young royal who had taken the helm of Qatargas. He was another very powerful ally for the Casino King and his sidekick to make on Thailand’s behalf.

  Sim followed up with a fawning email to Sheikh Khalid himself, again copying in Bin Hammam and Makudi. He wrote: ‘Your Excellency. His Excellency Deputy Premier, Abdulla Bin Hamad Al-Attiya, has directed me to liaise with Your Excellency on the LNG sale. Your Excellency has mentioned next week would be a good time to meet. Please let me know the time and venue for the meeting. Kindly grant me the permission for a meeting for me to discuss follow up actions with Your Excellency and co-coordinating staff appointed by Your Excellency. Your Excellency I have the honour to remain Yours humbly Joe Sim.’