<p>In recent years, several Gulf nations, most notably Saudi Arabia and Qatar, have spent staggering sums to bring some of the world’s biggest sporting events to their respective countries. Qatar alone have hosted the FIFA World Cup in 2022, the Club World Cup in 2019 and 2020, the Arab Cup in 2021 and the FIFA Intercontinental Cup in 2024. Add to that the World Athletics Championships in 2019, the World Indoor Championships in 2010, and annual fixtures like Formula 1 and major tennis events. The ambition does not stop there. Qatar are now preparing a bid for the 2036 Olympics.</p><p>Saudi Arabia have been just as aggressive. They have already secured the hosting rights for the 2034 FIFA World Cup and made global headlines with the launch of LIV Golf, a breakaway league that lured top players from the PGA Tour with hard-to-refuse offers. The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, the Dakar Rally and even the Spanish Super Cup are now regular fixtures in the country while cricket firmly remains in their radar.</p><p>For both nations, the motivation goes beyond sport. The belief is that staging flawless, high-profile events can soften global perceptions and help repair reputations long tarnished for poor human rights records, particularly when it comes to women and gender minorities. This strategy has a name: sportswashing, a blend of “sports” and “whitewash”, aimed at masking uncomfortable realities. In many ways, Qatar and Saudi Arabia have made it work.</p><p><strong>Spreading soft power</strong></p><p>India, too, seem to be attempting something similar; they may not have any poor human rights records to gloss over, but the purpose of conducting sports events remains the same — spreading the country's soft power. They are, however, doing it without the planning or intent to pull it off convincingly. The result has been messy and, at times, embarrassing. Over the past few months, three international events have left Indian sports fans angry and red-faced, but largely powerless.</p>.Nepal sports minister Bablu Gupta resigns to contest elections.<p>There were reports of multiple stray dog-biting incidents during the World Para Athletics Championships in Delhi. A T20 international between India and South Africa in Lucknow had to be abandoned because of a thick blanket of smog. Then came the India Open badminton tournament in Delhi, where foreign players openly complained about poor arrangements and avoidable inconveniences. All three events were played on the global stage, and all three brought the wrong kind of attention.</p><p><strong>So, what is going wrong? Is it a lack of pride, or plain indifference?</strong></p><p>According to former India hockey goalkeeper Ashish Ballal, the answer is far more basic.</p><p>“No, because our administrators do not have the experience or the expertise to organise a sports event,” he tells DHoS. “They neither hire event managers nor do they have dedicated people who run an event. These people think they can do everything, so nothing changes. It used to be the same situation 25 years back.”</p><p><strong>Role crisis</strong></p><p>Ballal believes the root of the problem is a complete misunderstanding of roles.</p><p>“The problem is these administrators, and it’s the same across all sports, don’t know what their job is. Conducting a sports event is not at all their business. It should be left to domain experts. Why have we still not come to understand that a tournament has to be organised by professionals? As an administrator, your duty is to get money for the sport and see that sports grow at the grassroots so that more and more people take up sports.”</p><p>There is also a patronising sense among most sports administrators. Conducting a sporting event or prioritising athletes' welfare is seen as an act of favour rather than an obligation. </p><p>Until that distinction is understood and acted upon, India risks hosting more events that promise prestige but deliver only disappointment.</p>
<p>In recent years, several Gulf nations, most notably Saudi Arabia and Qatar, have spent staggering sums to bring some of the world’s biggest sporting events to their respective countries. Qatar alone have hosted the FIFA World Cup in 2022, the Club World Cup in 2019 and 2020, the Arab Cup in 2021 and the FIFA Intercontinental Cup in 2024. Add to that the World Athletics Championships in 2019, the World Indoor Championships in 2010, and annual fixtures like Formula 1 and major tennis events. The ambition does not stop there. Qatar are now preparing a bid for the 2036 Olympics.</p><p>Saudi Arabia have been just as aggressive. They have already secured the hosting rights for the 2034 FIFA World Cup and made global headlines with the launch of LIV Golf, a breakaway league that lured top players from the PGA Tour with hard-to-refuse offers. The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, the Dakar Rally and even the Spanish Super Cup are now regular fixtures in the country while cricket firmly remains in their radar.</p><p>For both nations, the motivation goes beyond sport. The belief is that staging flawless, high-profile events can soften global perceptions and help repair reputations long tarnished for poor human rights records, particularly when it comes to women and gender minorities. This strategy has a name: sportswashing, a blend of “sports” and “whitewash”, aimed at masking uncomfortable realities. In many ways, Qatar and Saudi Arabia have made it work.</p><p><strong>Spreading soft power</strong></p><p>India, too, seem to be attempting something similar; they may not have any poor human rights records to gloss over, but the purpose of conducting sports events remains the same — spreading the country's soft power. They are, however, doing it without the planning or intent to pull it off convincingly. The result has been messy and, at times, embarrassing. Over the past few months, three international events have left Indian sports fans angry and red-faced, but largely powerless.</p>.Nepal sports minister Bablu Gupta resigns to contest elections.<p>There were reports of multiple stray dog-biting incidents during the World Para Athletics Championships in Delhi. A T20 international between India and South Africa in Lucknow had to be abandoned because of a thick blanket of smog. Then came the India Open badminton tournament in Delhi, where foreign players openly complained about poor arrangements and avoidable inconveniences. All three events were played on the global stage, and all three brought the wrong kind of attention.</p><p><strong>So, what is going wrong? Is it a lack of pride, or plain indifference?</strong></p><p>According to former India hockey goalkeeper Ashish Ballal, the answer is far more basic.</p><p>“No, because our administrators do not have the experience or the expertise to organise a sports event,” he tells DHoS. “They neither hire event managers nor do they have dedicated people who run an event. These people think they can do everything, so nothing changes. It used to be the same situation 25 years back.”</p><p><strong>Role crisis</strong></p><p>Ballal believes the root of the problem is a complete misunderstanding of roles.</p><p>“The problem is these administrators, and it’s the same across all sports, don’t know what their job is. Conducting a sports event is not at all their business. It should be left to domain experts. Why have we still not come to understand that a tournament has to be organised by professionals? As an administrator, your duty is to get money for the sport and see that sports grow at the grassroots so that more and more people take up sports.”</p><p>There is also a patronising sense among most sports administrators. Conducting a sporting event or prioritising athletes' welfare is seen as an act of favour rather than an obligation. </p><p>Until that distinction is understood and acted upon, India risks hosting more events that promise prestige but deliver only disappointment.</p>