Saudi Arabia’s recent high-profile participation at the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA80) shines a spotlight on the Kingdom’s global strategy. When Foreign Minister Prince Faisal bin Farhan led the delegation in New York, flanked by senior officials including Princess Reema bint Bandar, Adel al-Jubeir, and others, the country promised to champion peace, humanitarian aid, and sustainable development.
It even chaired conferences on Palestine, multilateral cooperation, and global security. On the surface, this was a country portraying itself as a responsible actor, ready to take on leadership in international diplomacy.
But beneath the polished diplomatic performance lies a starkly different reality—one where repression, censorship, mass executions, and systemic abuse of migrant workers define the daily experience for many.
The very act of projecting such a positive image at the UN mirrors the logic behind Saudi Arabia’s bid to host the FIFA World Cup 2034. Both arenas—the UNGA stage and the football pitch—are tools for reputation laundering and sportswashing. For this reason, linking Saudi Arabia’s global diplomacy to its sporting ambitions makes the call to boycott the Saudi 2034 World Cup more urgent than ever.
The Gap Between Words and Reality
Saudi Arabia’s UNGA80 participation was presented as a commitment to “support international peace and security” and “advance humanitarian development.” Yet international watchdogs tell a completely different story.
Freedom House, in its 2025 Freedom in the World report, gave Saudi Arabia one of the lowest ratings globally: just 1 out of 40 for political rights and 8 out of 60 for civil liberties. The Kingdom remains “Not Free,” with no national elections and dissent criminalized. Critics who dare to question policies face decades in prison or even the death penalty for nothing more than tweets or peaceful activism.
The repression of free expression has become extreme. Courts have sentenced citizens to decades in prison simply for social media activity. Online platforms are closely monitored, and many Saudis self-censor out of fear of state reprisal. So when Saudi officials speak at the UN of “dialogue” and “cooperation,” the contradiction is glaring.
A Surge in Executions.
Even more troubling is Saudi Arabia’s use of capital punishment. According to data compiled by rights groups and media outlets, the Kingdom executed 345 people in 2024 alone. It is the highest figure in more than three decades. Many of those executed were convicted of nonviolent drug crimes. Disturbingly, foreign nationals make up a large share of those on death row, underscoring how vulnerable migrant workers are to a system with limited fair-trial guarantees.
The contrast is impossible to ignore. At the UN, Saudi officials presented themselves as defenders of peace and humanitarian values. At home, they oversaw a state apparatus that carried out mass executions at record rates. Allowing such a regime to host the world’s largest sporting event in 2034 would hand it a golden stage to distract from these realities.
Migrant Workers and the Hidden Toll
The human cost of Saudi Arabia’s grand projects, particularly those tied to Vision 2030 and mega-construction ventures like NEOM, is staggering. Independent investigations have estimated that more than 21,000 migrant workers have died since construction began on these futuristic developments.
Behind the glossy marketing campaigns are stories of wage theft, excessive overtime, and unsafe conditions. Some workers have reported being forced to work up to 84 hours a week, well above legal limits, with little recourse when wages are withheld or safety is ignored.
Many of these workers come from South Asia, Southeast Asia, and Africa. They are the invisible backbone of Saudi Arabia’s economic ambitions, yet they remain voiceless and unprotected. Hosting the World Cup will inevitably rely on similar exploitative labor systems—echoing the devastating abuses documented in Qatar during the 2022 tournament. To repeat that tragedy on an even larger scale in Saudi Arabia would be unconscionable.
Transnational Repression:
Saudi Arabia’s repression does not stop at its borders. Human Rights Watch has documented how Saudi border guards killed hundreds of Ethiopian migrants attempting to cross from Yemen, in some cases shooting them at close range. Some survivors reported guards asking which body part they preferred to be shot before firing—actions that rights groups have said may amount to crimes against humanity.
The Kingdom also targets its critics abroad, using surveillance, intimidation, and even rendition. The murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in 2018 remains a chilling reminder of how far the regime is willing to go to silence dissent. Against this backdrop, Saudi Arabia’s attempts to present itself as a diplomatic peacemaker at the UN look more like a calculated public relations move than a genuine commitment.
UNGA and the World Cup: Two Sides of the Same Coin
Saudi Arabia’s active diplomacy at UNGA80 is part of a broader strategy: to normalize its image and gain legitimacy on the world stage. By chairing high-level peace conferences and aligning itself with the Sustainable Development Goals, it seeks to be seen as a responsible and modern actor. Hosting the FIFA World Cup in 2034 is simply the sporting extension of this same strategy.
Mega-events like the World Cup provide enormous reputational dividends. They allow host nations to present a polished, carefully managed version of themselves while critical voices are sidelined. For Saudi Arabia, already investing billions into sports, culture, and entertainment, 2034 is less about football and more about cementing its global image as a progressive leader. Without scrutiny, this narrative will overshadow the daily reality of executions, repression, and labor abuse.
Why Boycotting Matters.
Some argue that hosting international events can encourage reform. But the evidence suggests otherwise. Despite promises of improvement, Saudi Arabia’s human rights record has worsened in recent years.
The surge in executions, continued silencing of activists, and deaths of migrant workers show that global engagement has not led to meaningful change. A boycott of Saudi 2034 is therefore essential—not as a symbolic gesture, but as a necessary form of accountability. Refusing to participate in or endorse the tournament would:
- Place pressure on FIFA, sponsors, and teams to demand real reforms.
- Show solidarity with the vulnerable communities most harmed by the regime.
- Prevent Saudi Arabia from using sport as a shield against criticism.
- Send a message that the international community does not reward repression with prestige.
Turning Words into Action:
Saudi Arabia’s performance at UNGA80 and its ambitions for the World Cup 2034 are cut from the same cloth. Both are about presenting an image of peace, progress, and cooperation, while the reality tells a different story: one of repression, executions, censorship, and systemic abuse.
The world cannot afford to look away. FIFA, sponsors, fans, and civil society must recognize that participating in Saudi 2034 would mean endorsing a regime that uses global platforms not to change but to hide.
Boycotting the Saudi 2034 FIFA World Cup is not just about football—it is about ensuring that the world’s most-watched sporting event is not turned into the world’s most elaborate public relations exercise for repression.