The country preparing to host the 2022 World Cup is in the news again. Qatar’s treatment of foreign construction workers, hired to build the infrastructure for the event, has shocked FIFA, the UEFA president, the International Labour Organisation, the International TUC and even the British government (The Guardian, 3/10/2013). The Nepalese government claims that 70 Nepalese died in Qatar since the beginning of 2012, and The Guardian reports: “Hundreds more are thought to have been injured in falls and accidents with machinery and vehicles.” The paper’s investigation suggests a worse situation: it found that “44 Nepalese workers had died in Qatar between 4 June and 8 August this year”. Undeterred, the Qatar government is ploughing on towards more exploitation: as unions predict 4,000 deaths “before a ball is kicked”, Qatar “is expected to bring in at least 500,000 more workers on top of the 1.2 million, including 340,000 from Nepal and more from India.”

One of the names appearing among all this is that of former French footballer Zinedine Zidane. He was once an icon among the “beurs” of the poor French “suburbs” – the banlieues; “beurs” are, like him, descendants of Arab immigrant parents. The Qatar story is a reminder of how he lost his iconic status.

To begin at the beginning. In the summer of 1998 there were claims that France had entered a new phase in its history, when it would be able to see itself as a diverse society, “a France”, in the words of anti-racist campaigner Harlem Désir, “rich in all its children whatever their origin.” France’s multi-ethnic football team had won the World Cup (Zinedine scored two out of the three goals against Brazil) and it seemed that the country had experienced a catharsis. President Chirac and prime minister Jospin watched the match in the stadium and, on Bastille Day two days later, Chirac “hailed his country’s victorious team … as a beautiful image of France and of the strength of its multiracial society.” Discrimination, division and racism belonged to the past.

However, the catharsis turned out to be little more than an emotional spasm and France’s social harmony has proved very fragile indeed. Le Pen came second in the first round of the 2002 presidential elections and in 2005 rioting broke out in the banlieues. The riots began in Clichy-sous-Bois when two boys, aged 15 and 17, died climbing an electrified fence while fleeing the police. They spread throughout France, with petrol bombs being thrown and cars set on fire. Interior minister Nicolas Sarkozy called the protesters “scum”, but it became clear that Clichy was a catalyst for protesters with a range of grievances about discrimination, marginalisation, racism and inequality. “It’s unfortunate”, Nadir, from Aubervilliers, told the newspaper Le Monde, “but we have no choice.”  According to sociologist Eric Macé, among the causes of the riots were “the highest unemployment rates in Europe, racist discrimination and growing urban marginalisation and, since the beginning of the 1990s, a stigmatisation of the youth of the working-class suburbs which makes them appear foreign to French society and constructs them as a menace …”

The fleeting hopes of 1998 seem foolish in this light. By 2006 Zinedine was no longer an icon to beurs. He came from the Marseilles bidonville (shanty town) of La Castellane but in 2006 one of the fans of the Paris-Saint-Germain (PSG) football team told Le Monde,

“His image is too pure. He is afraid to say what he is, that he is a beur … like the rest of us. And to tell the truth about what it is like to be an Arab in this society.”

The stands at PSG’s ground were the scenes of what Le Monde called a

“civil war … between two sets of supporters. These are the predominantly white “Boulogne Boys” of the Boulogne Stand (who are alleged to have far-right links) and the mixed-race and Arab fans … who gather on the Auteuil terraces.”

Football did not heal the social divisions of France.

Today Qatar is thought to have paid close to £2m pounds to get Zinedine as bid ambassador for the country and Zinedine has earned his keep. Ignoring the lessons of post-1998 France he declared his faith in football’s ability to build bridges and inspire hope. “When I think of all the youth of the Middle East”, he said, “what they’re missing is an event like the World Cup.”

No, Zinedine, wrong answer. They actually need a number of other things first. Just like the people of the banlieues in 2005 – and, come to that, today – they need an end to poverty, unemployment, marginalisation and discrimination. Together with the Nepalese and other workers, hired to build prestigious sports palaces in Qatar and make profits for the already-rich, they need trade union rights and protection from murderous employers. And after that, do they need the World Cup? Not really. They will no doubt need football, but the World Cup is run by the rich to profit the rich.

What they can do without is a celebrity who has forgotten his roots to tell them what they’re “missing”.