Editor’s note: Abdurrahman is currently working for Doing Business Right project at the Asser Institute as an intern. He received his LL.M. International and European Law from Tilburg University and currently he is a Research Master student at the same university.

The collapse of the Rana Plaza attracted public attention from various parts of the world. As a result, the demand to ensure that businesses do not contribute to or commit human rights violations, particularly multinational enterprises (MNEs) which can easily engage in forum shopping between states with lax regulations, started to make itself heard. This increased public interest drove national governments to start addressing this issue in an attempt to prevent MNEs from getting involved in human rights abuses along their supply chains.  In this respect, to deal with the human rights abuses committed by MNEs in the ready-made garment (RMG) sector and beyond, numerous transnational and national initiatives have emerged in different forms since the Rana Plaza disaster. These initiatives include agreements (e.g. the Bangladesh Accord on Fire and Building Safety)  with binding commitments, traditional voluntary CSR-based multi-stakeholder initiatives (e.g. the Alliance for Bangladesh Worker Safety), domestic legal (e.g. the UK Modern Slavery Act and the French law on the duty of vigilance), administrative measures (e.g. the reform of the Department of Inspections for Factories and Establishments in Bangladesh for better factory and labour inspections) or agreements between governmental bodies, businesses and some other stakeholders (e.g. the German Partnership for Sustainable Textiles and the Dutch Agreement on Sustainable Garment and Textile).

These concerted efforts, to ensure responsible business conduct show an extreme variety in terms of their scope, approaches and parties involved.  In particular, the French law on the duty of vigilance and the Dutch agreement on sustainable garment will be the focus on this blog since while the adoption of the former was accelerated by the disaster, the latter was an indirect response to it. It is crucial to scrutinise the implementation of these initiatives and whether or not they positively transform the business-as-usual in the RMG sector. In this blog, after brief explanations of the French and Dutch initiatives, some of the concerns and problems, which may be encountered in their implementation process, will be presented.

The French Duty of Vigilance Law

The French law, also known as ‘the French Duty of Vigilance Law’, entered into force after a lengthy legislative process on 27 March 2017.[1] Although the law was proposed at first during the presidential campaign in 2012, French MPs did not bring the legislative proposal to the table for a while.[2] However, the Rana Plaza disaster turned the tide and gave a decisive push to the legislative procedure, and that is also the reason why the law is unofficially called ‘Rana Plaza Law’.[3] Since the emergence of the first version, the bill encountered a lot of opposition, particularly from business lobby groups, and underwent many changes until it was finally adopted. After the definitive adoption of the law by the National Assembly, some MPs appealed to the Constitutional Council, contesting every paragraph of the law. Finally, the Council, partially, validated the law on 23 March 2017. In doing so, it scrapped the possibility to impose a civil fine to companies, which do not put in place a vigilance plan in line with the law. It censored the payment of a civil fine, which is a criminal sanction in France, because some concepts of the law such as “reasonable vigilance measures” and “adapted risk mitigation actions” were deemed not specific enough to meet the principle of legality of criminal sanctions.^[4]

The final version of the bill is expected to affect around 150-200 companies and covers every business sector. The law is applicable to two different types of companies:

• Companies employing at least five thousand employees in France, or
• Companies employing at least ten thousand employees worldwide

The companies concerned are requested to prepare effective vigilance plans covering their environmental and human rights impacts. The activities of a parent company, its direct or indirect subsidiaries, and the subcontractors, and suppliers with an established business relationship with the companies fall within the scope of the law. Although the burden of proof is on the claimant, NGOs working on human rights and the protection of the environment, trade unions and the victims will be able to bring a case before French courts on the basis of the law. The vigilance plan should include measures aimed at risk identification and prevention of serious human rights violations resulting from the company’s operations, measures to monitor and assess the impacts of the actions implemented and procedures to regularly assess the operations of its subsidiaries, subcontractors or suppliers. Thus, the expected vigilance plan is not an ex-post reporting, rather an ex-ante prevention plan. This is supposed to be in line with the idea of human rights due diligence enshrined in the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, stating that a company should initiate its due diligence as early as possible in the development of a business relationship and identify and assess actual or potential adverse human rights impacts of their operations and business ties.^[5] However, the obligation for companies is not to prevent human rights violations but instead to prepare, publish and enforce a vigilance plan. If a company fails to do so, even after a formal notice by a concerned party, a judge may force the company to adopt a complete vigilance plan and impose a daily fine until it complies with this obligation. If the operations of a non-compliant company result in human rights violations, the victims will be able to seek civil redress in French courts.

At first glance, the law might seem an ambitious effort, particularly in terms of its material scope as it is not restricted to a specific economic sector. Similarly, the scope of the rights that companies should observe is broad, namely every human rights, when compared to other national legislations aimed at preventing specific business-related human rights abuses, such as the Modern Slavery Act or the draft Dutch legislation on child labour due diligence. While, these other national legislations focus on a limited range of human rights, the French law expects the companies to exercise due diligence related to an extremely broad range of human rights, namely for “the prevention of severe violations of human rights and fundamental freedoms, serious bodily injury or environmental damage or health risks resulting directly or indirectly from the operations of the company and of the companies it controls.”[6] Yet, there are many open questions related to the content and implementation of the vigilance plan. What should a vigilance plan concretely entail to comply with the French law? Should it include specific local investigations far upstream in the supply chains of the companies? What types of actions are expected from a company when it identifies a specific human rights risk? When is a specific human rights violation sufficiently connected to a failed vigilance plan to trigger civil liability? In practice, the law does not distinguish between different grounds for liability such as causation, contribution or link to the adverse impact.[7] Considering the complexity of the global supply chains and numerous factors that can cause human rights violations independent from a company subject to the French law, it will always be very difficult to attribute a specific violation to a specific company. Lastly, a concern expressed by some academics is that formal requirements divert the attention from substance, and risk turning compliance into a box ticking exercise. This could very well be the case with the due diligence requirements introduced by the French law as companies may try to reduce the financial impact of introducing and implementing a vigilance plan.[8] Bearing all this in mind, it is probably fair to say that the implementation of the French law will raise many issues which will define its final effects/impacts and which could still bitterly disappoint the wave of hope triggered by its initial adoption.

The Dutch Agreement on Sustainable Garments and Textile

For its part, the Dutch Agreement on Sustainable Garment and Textile^[9] (Agreement) was negotiated and agreed under the auspices of the Social and Economic Research Council of the Netherlands (SER). It was one of the first examples of an initiative undertaken at the national level to promote international responsible business conduct in the garment and textile sector following the Rana Plaza collapse. It is one of several sectoral multi-stakeholder Agreements on International Responsible Business Conduct (IRBC Agreements) and, as such, provides for a framework by which companies work with government and other stakeholders to tackle specific problems and achieve improvements on substantial risks within a specified time frame, as well as elaborate shared solutions to problems.^[10] The Agreement was signed in July 2016, by a coalition comprising, the Dutch government, 55 business and their representative organisations (then constituting about 30% of the garment sector in the Netherlands), various non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and two Dutch trade unions.^[11] As of October 2017, 67 companies had signed the agreement;^[12] the Agreement aims to reach 50% of market share by 2018 and 80% by 2020.^[13]

The Agreement, expressly aims to build upon and give effect to the United Nations Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (UNGPs), the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, as well as implement the sector-specific OECD Due Diligence Guidance for Responsible Supply Chains in the Garment and Footwear Sector (OECD Guidance). Various commitments are included in the Agreement with respect to the enterprises' due diligence obligations, such as, creating annual action plans, complying with the Agreement’s dispute settlement mechanisms and authorising the Secretariat of the Agreement to monitor and assess the compliance with the Agreement. The Agreement introduces a dispute resolution system which solves disputes between a company and the Secretariat over the assessment of an action plan and, as such, is limited to the review of actions plans rather than operationalised due diligence processes (with an independent Complaints and Disputes Committee adjudicating whether, in view of its action plan, a company is acting in accordance with the Agreement).  The system also includes a complaint procedure, which contemplates the submission of grievances by any stakeholder, whether a party to the Agreement or not, suffering injury, loss or damage by any company party to the Agreement. The parties are expected to exercise due diligence in a variety of nine themes, ranging from labour rights, such as, discrimination at work, forced labour and child labour to environmental issues like water pollution, use of chemicals and animal welfare.[14] Lastly, compared to the French law, the personal scope of the Agreement is much broader. Whereas the French law covers approximately 150-200 French companies with huge number of employees, since the Agreement was intended to be applied to the entire Dutch garment and textiles sector, small and medium-sized enterprises are also incentivized to become a party to the Dutch agreement by developing an adjusted due diligence guide and providing assistance to enable them to exercise due diligence effectively.[15]

Some characteristics of the Agreement could have a negative impact on its successful implementation. In terms of the commitments of the parties, Duval and Partiti note their broad range (going beyond the scope of the UNGPs with respect to value chain risks) and ostensible alignment with the OECD Guidance in certain respects, while extending beyond it in others, particularly with respect to the form of the "action plans" envisaged under the architecture of the Agreement.^[16] However, the breadth of the commitments under the nine themes may raise some questions concerning the knowledge, capacity, and willingness of companies to exercise due diligence in all these nine themes. It may not be realistic to expect that all the parties to the Agreement, regardless of their sources and size, will conduct due diligence and identify measures to address issues in all of the themes. Thus, Theeuws and Overeem of SOMO are skeptical of the Agreement's ability to benefit garment workers in the supply chain.  With reference to the first annual report of the Agreement in December 2017, theynote that the majority of participating businesses do not know the human rights risks in their supply chains and have no plan of action to address abuses. Another point about the Agreement that might raise questions, is related to the transparency of its operation and effectiveness of its dispute resolution mechanism. Duval and Partiti stress that the Agreement takes an "opaque" approach to information-sharing and action plans are not made public in a disaggregated form.^[17] It also remains unclear to what extent operationalised due diligence processes will actually be the subject of review, and scope for transparency in the review process is limited; the Agreement thus "risks falling short of the UNGPs’ strive for the transparency and public disclosure of the due diligence commitments of companies, as enshrined in Principle 21".^[18] Furthermore, there are some clouds over the accessibility of the Agreement’s complaint mechanism for external stakeholders, which Duval and Partiti further emphasize.[19] Namely, not every stakeholder can use the complaint mechanism, but only those stakeholders, to whom the issue is of material significance. Yet, there is uncertainty as to the meaning of material significance as it is open to different interpretations. Likewise, if there is another equivalent mechanism, that can receive the complaint to which the attacked company is a party, the complaint will be referred to that mechanism. Although elements of equivalence can be found in the Agreement,[20] there is no clarity as to how different stakeholders around the globe will be informed about the existence of an equivalent grievance mechanism.  If the aims of the Agreement are to reduce the adverse human rights impacts of the garment and textile industry and to assist businesses to address them,[21] then the breadth of the commitments, the lack of transparency on some aspects and some legitimate concerns with respect to the accessibility of the dispute settlement mechanism might detrimentally affect the success of its implementation.

Conclusion

The number of national initiatives aimed at addressing the problem of human rights violations   inside transnational supply chains (in the RMG sector in particular) soared dramatically after the Rana Plaza collapse. In that regard, national states can also play an important role. Some enacted legislations and many more became involved in multi-stakeholder initiatives to prevent or discourage enterprises domiciled or headquartered in their jurisdictions from committing human rights violations abroad. Two of these national initiatives are the French Law on Duty of Vigilance and the Dutch Agreement on Sustainable Garments and Textile discussed in my blog. While the French law is a traditional hard law instrument, the Dutch initiative is a voluntary agreement, which contains binding commitments. Unlike the Dutch agreement, which specifically focusses on the garment and textiles, the French law has a wider scope.

As to dealing with the human rights violations in the RMG sector, national initiatives are not irrelevant they can effectively complement (and sometimes supplement) transnational ones. For instance, drafting an international treaty is a lengthy procedure and will be displeased, when asked to rely on the unlikely support of many national government, it’s an uphill battle. This is clearly visible in the difficulties faced by the working group on transnational corporations. Considering that a potential treaty, after its tabling, will have to be ratified by states, it becomes clear that there is still a long way to go. However, national initiatives, be they hard or soft, can be put in place relatively quickly, since the number and diversity of parties involved tends to be lower. Moreover, they can, as is the case of the French law, rely on the support of existing judicial institutions, without the need to engage in challenging institution building, on an international level. However, if they can have some advantages in comparison to international initiatives, they might also have some shortcomings. They do not escape the implementation challenge. Lofty commitments on paper can turn into paper tigers if they are not concretized ex post by strong institutions responsible for their enforcement and interpreting the rules in a strict manner. As to the mandatory French law, for instance, the possibility that the obligation of having a vigilance plan in place be implemented as a box ticking exercise might prove problematic. For its part, the quality of the implementation of the voluntary Dutch agreement is difficult to assess in light of the limited degree of transparency of its operation. Furthermore, the weaknesses with regard to the dispute resolution mechanism are also worrying. This dynamism and the great variety of different initiatives, both transnational and national, do not necessarily translate into the best outcomes, and they might fall short in realizing their, sometimes, ambitious goals.  In the end, the proof of the pudding will be in the eating and the devil will be in the implementation. It is how national mechanisms are implemented, rather than just their formal voluntary/mandatory nature, that will determine their success.

[1] Friends of the Earth France and ActionAid France, End of the Road for Transnational Corporations? Human rights and environment: from a groundbreaking French law to a UN treaty (October 2017), 4-5.

[2] ibid., 6.

[3] Madeleine Cuff, France Duty of Vigilance Law one year on: What's changed for French corporates? (Business Green, 2018).

[4] Sandra Cossart, Jerome Chaplier and Tiphaine Beau de Lomenie, “The French Law on Duty of Care: A Historic Step Towards Making Globalization Work for All” (2017) 2(2) Business and Human Rights Journal 317, 321.

[5] UN Human Rights Council, Protect, respect and remedy: a framework for business and human rights: report of the Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the Issue of Human Rights and Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises (7 April 2008), 17-20.

[6] loi n° 2017-399 du 27 mars 2017 relative au devoir de vigilance des sociétés mères et des entreprises donneuses d'ordre (FR) Article 1.

[7] Stéphane Brabant and Elsa Savourey, A Closer Look at the Penalties Faced by Companies (2017) 3.

[8] Cuff (n 3).

[9] Social and Economic Council of the Netherlands, Agreement on Sustainable Garment and Textile (2016).

[10] Social and Economic Council of the Netherlands, Agreements on International Responsible Business Conduct, Advisory Report 14/04 (2014).

[11] Social and Economic Council of the Netherlands, 75 Signatures Endorse Sustainable Garment and Textile Sector agreement (4 July 2016).

[12] See "About this Agreement".

[13] Agreement on Sustainable Garment and Textile (n 9), 6.

[14] ibid., 15.

[15] ibid., 17.

[16] Antoine Duval and Enrico Partiti, "The UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights in (National) Action: The Dutch Agreement on Sustainable Garment and Textile" (forthcoming in Netherlands Yearbook of International Law 2018), T.M.C. Asser Institute for International & European Law, Asser Research Paper Series 2018-02, 13-16.

[17] ibid., 18.

[18] ibid., 24.

[19] ibid., 22-23.

[20] Agreement on Sustainable Garment and Textile (n 9), 12.

[21] ibid.,4.

Editor’s note: Tomáš Grell holds an LL.M. in Public International Law from Leiden University. He contributes to the work of the ASSER International Sports Law Centre as a research intern.

Concerns about adverse human rights impacts related to FIFA's activities have intensified ever since its late 2010 decision to award the 2018 and 2022 World Cup to Russia and Qatar respectively. However, until recently, the world's governing body of football had done little to eliminate these concerns, thereby encouraging human rights advocates to exercise their critical eye on FIFA. 

In response to growing criticism, the Extraordinary FIFA Congress, held in February 2016, decided to include an explicit human rights commitment in the revised FIFA Statutes which came into force in April 2016. This commitment is encapsulated in Article 3 which reads as follows: ''FIFA is committed to respecting all internationally recognized human rights and shall strive to promote the protection of these rights''. At around the same time, Professor John Ruggie, the author of the United Nations Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights ('UN Guiding Principles') presented in his report 25 specific recommendations for FIFA on how to further embed respect for human rights across its global operations. While praising the decision to make a human rights commitment part of the organization's constituent document, Ruggie concluded that ''FIFA does not have yet adequate systems in place enabling it to know and show that it respects human rights in practice''.[1]

With the 2018 World Cup in Russia less than a year away, the time is ripe to look at whether Ruggie's statement about FIFA's inability to respect human rights still holds true today. This blog outlines the most salient human rights risks related to FIFA's activities and offers a general overview of what the world's governing body of football did over the past twelve months to mitigate these risks. Information about FIFA's human rights activities is collected primarily from its Activity Update on Human Rights published alongside FIFA's Human Rights Policy in June 2017.

The most salient human rights risks

FIFA faces human rights risks through its events, commercial subsidiaries and business partners, member associations or other parties. This section identifies sources of human rights risks that are most often associated with FIFA's activities.

Bidding and selection

Allegations of corruption have cast a shadow over FIFA's decision to organize the 2018 and 2022 World Cup in Russia and Qatar respectively.[2] If these allegations were proven to be true, it would be conceivable that financial incentives provided by the successful candidates helped them not only to secure the right to stage the tournament, but also to evade certain requirements, including those related to human rights. As Ruggie puts it, ''lack of financial integrity […] is a foundational source of human rights risks''.[3]

Moreover, in the past, countries bidding to host FIFA's tournaments have not been required to present a strategy addressing human rights risks that may arise in connection with the tournament’s organization. This allowed Qatar to win the bidding contest for the 2022 World Cup without explaining how it plans to protect migrant workers from the adverse impacts of the kafala system. Another example is Papua New Guinea that was awarded the 2016 U-20 Women's World Cup despite the country's high rate of sexual violence against women.

Construction

FIFA delegates the organization of the World Cup to the Local Organizing Committee ('LOC'), a separate legal entity created by the government and the national football association of the Host Country. The LOC is responsible, inter alia, for the delivery of World Cup-related infrastructure. In order to meet their deadlines, contractors hired by the LOC may ignore safety standards or force their employees to work overtime. Other reported practices include, for instance, appalling living and working conditions, non-payment of salaries, withholding identity documents or restrictions on the freedom of association.

In March 2017, Norwegian football magazine Josimar uncovered a series of human rights abuses faced by North Korean men working at Zenit Arena in Saint Petersburg. As recently as 14 June 2017, Human Rights Watch documented the mistreatment of construction workers at five other World Cup stadium construction sites in Russia. As the situation in Qatar has not been much better,[4] the Netherlands Trade Union Confederation filed in December 2016 a lawsuit with the Commercial Court of the Canton of Zürich, asking the court to find FIFA responsible for alleged human rights violations of migrant workers. The court dismissed the lawsuit on jurisdictional grounds in January 2017 (for a detailed analysis, see our blogs here and here).

Discrimination

Article 4 of the FIFA Statutes prohibits ''discrimination of any kind against a country, private person, or group of people on account of race, skin colour, ethnic, national or social origin, gender, disability, language, religion, political opinion or any other opinion, wealth, birth, or any other status, sexual orientation or any other reason''. In practice, FIFA must enforce this provision by taking further action to tackle issues such as anti-gay legislation in countries where its tournaments are staged, homophobic chants by fans or gender discrimination in the world of association football. 

Players' rights 

In January 2017, the international players' association FIFPro published a Global Employment Report on working conditions in men's professional football. Out of nearly 14,000 players interviewed, 41% reported having experienced delayed salary payments over the past two seasons. Players who lodge a formal complaint against their club put themselves at risk of being excluded from the squad or subjected to violence and harassment. FIFPro strongly condemned these practices and called upon FIFA to reform its Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players ('RSTP') to ''provide stronger protections of players against material breaches of contracts by clubs''.[5] Another issue that merits closer attention is human trafficking in football, especially as it often involves minors.[6]

Other 

In addition to the above, FIFA could better address human rights abuses that may occur (i) in the supply chains of its licensees; (ii) in the process of land acquisition for stadiums and event-related infrastructure; or (iii) in connection with event-related security measures.

Overview of the measures taken by FIFA

First and foremost, FIFA strengthened its internal capacity to deal with human rights risks. In 2016, FIFA established the Governance Committee which provides, via its Human Rights Working Group, strategic guidance to the FIFA Council on human rights-related matters. At the operational level, the overall responsibility for the implementation of FIFA's human rights commitment rests with the Secretary General who delegates the day-to-day management of human rights-related work to the Sustainability and Diversity Department. In September 2016, FIFA employed a Human Rights Manager to work within this department. Moreover, in March 2017, FIFA appointed an independent Human Rights Advisory Board with the view of accelerating its efforts to embed respect for human rights. Composed of experts from the United Nations, trade unions, civil society and business, the Advisory Board is scheduled to meet at least twice a year. It has already contributed to the development of FIFA's Human Rights Policy, a landmark document clarifying FIFA's approach to the implementation of its human rights commitment in accordance with the UN Guiding Principles.

The rest of this section looks at the most significant steps taken by FIFA in each of the areas outlined above.

Bidding and selection

The FIFA Council has recently agreed that, as of the 2026 World Cup, human rights requirements will feature in the bidding procedure. This is of paramount importance as it means that countries failing to present an effective human rights strategy should not be allowed to host the World Cup. In other words, the protection of human rights will constitute a material factor in the bid evaluation. Had such requirements existed at the time of the bidding procedure for the 2022 World Cup, Qatar would arguably never have been selected.

The bidding procedure for the 2026 World Cup, the first to feature 48 teams, is currently in an early stage, and therefore bidding requirements are not yet available. The Host Country of the 2026 World Cup will be announced in 2020 at the latest.

Construction

As part of the implementation of the Sustainability Strategy for the 2018 World Cup, FIFA and the Russia 2018 LOC have launched a Decent Work Monitoring System aimed at detecting non-compliance with labour standards at World Cup stadium construction sites. Under this system, two-day on-site inspections are conducted on a quarterly basis by the Klinsky Institute of Labour Protection and Working Conditions, at times accompanied by the Building and Wood Workers' International ('BWI') and the Russian Building Workers Union ('RBWU').[7] After each inspection, companies are provided with a report containing recommendations for further improvement of working conditions. This report is forwarded to FIFA and the Russia 2018 LOC, and, in cases where the health or safety of workers are seriously threatened, also to the competent Russian authorities. As of 14 June 2017, a total of 58 inspections have been carried out.[8]

In Qatar, the Supreme Committee for Delivery and Legacy ('Supreme Committee'), an entity tasked with the delivery of World Cup-related infrastructure,[9] has developed a comprehensive set of Workers' Welfare Standards ('WWS'). Inspired by international labour standards, the WWS are mandatory for all contractors working on World Cup-related construction projects. To see whether contractors are adhering to these standards, the Supreme Committee has designed a four-tier monitoring system which comprises due diligence conducted by the Supreme Committee, the British company Impactt Ltd.,[10] the Qatari Ministry of Labour and contractors themselves. As of February 2017, the implementation of the WWS is further monitored via on-site inspections carried out jointly by the Supreme Committee and the BWI.[11]

Discrimination 

Establishment of the Anti-Discrimination Monitoring System in May 2015 is regarded as the most significant step taken by FIFA to combat discrimination in the world of football. This system uses independent observers who are present at matches identified as involving heightened risks of discriminatory incidents. Based on the reports provided by these observers, FIFA may open disciplinary proceedings and eventually impose sanctions on member associations. For instance, several Latin American associations have been sanctioned for homophobic chants by spectators during the 2018 World Cup qualifying matches.

Internally, FIFA promotes gender equality by requiring each of the six confederations to reserve at least one seat in the FIFA Council for women.[12]

Players' rights

As far as the protection of players' rights is concerned, FIFA informs that it has introduced certain measures intended to preserve confidentiality of the data available in the Transfer Matching System.[13] Furthermore, on 1 March 2015, FIFA modified the RTSP so as to put in place 'fast-track' proceedings for disputes concerning overdue payable claims (for a detailed analysis, see our blogs here and here).[14]

Other

In addition to contractors working on World Cup-related construction projects, other companies having business relationships with FIFA are now required to strengthen their human rights compliance. These include the suppliers of FIFA-licensed balls, artificial turf and technology used in games. Before a license agreement is entered into between FIFA and the supplier, FIFA must satisfy itself that both the supplier and its manufacturer are in compliance with the World Federation of the Sporting Goods Industry ('WFSGI') Code of Conduct, whose purpose is ''to guide WFSGI members in the standards and practices expected in the workplaces that they operate or contract from''.[15] Should FIFA-licensees cease to comply with the standards laid down in the WFSGI Code of Conduct, FIFA may decide to withdraw its license.

Concluding Remarks

The aforementioned report on human rights violations of World Cup-related construction workers in Russia, published by Human Rights Watch in June 2017, came as a major setback to the otherwise encouraging measures taken by FIFA in respect of human rights compliance. This and similar reports demonstrate that FIFA's human rights activities have not yet produced their desired effect. To increase the efficiency of its human rights activities in the future, FIFA should probably engage in a tougher discussion with the competent authorities of the Host Country. This is important because event-related human rights abuses often flow from inadequate domestic legislation and administrative practices of the Host Country.[16] Examples from the past show that FIFA is able to exert pressure on the future Host Country to modify its domestic legislation when it is in the interest of FIFA's sponsors.[17] At the risk of stating the obvious, it is hard to understand why FIFA's sponsors should be prioritized over thousands of people facing human rights abuses in connection with the organization of the World Cup. Thus, a lot will depend on FIFA's amendment of the bidding requirements for the 2026 World Cup. Though it may sound optimistic and far-fetched, if FIFA were to award the World Cup taking into account human rights compliance of the potential Host Countries, it could become a strong force in spreading the human rights gospel across the globe.

[1]    John G. Ruggie, 'For the Game. For the World. FIFA and Human Rights' (April 2016) p. 19.

[2]    Jonathan Calvert and Heidi Blake, 'Plot to Buy the World Cup' (The Sunday Times, 1 June 2014). See also David Conn, 'France Investigates Votes for 2018 and 2022 World Cups and Questions Blatter' (The Guardian, 27 April 2017).

[3]    See Ruggie's report (n 1) p. 21.

[4]    Amnesty International, 'The Ugly Side of the Beautiful Game: Exploitation of Migrant Workers on a Qatar 2022 World Cup Site' (30 March 2016).

[5]    FIFPro, '2016 FIFPro Global Employment Report: Working Conditions in Professional Football' (January 2017) p. 30.

[6]    See Ruggie's report (n 1) p. 25.

[7]    In August 2016, the BWI and the RBWU signed a memorandum of understanding with FIFA and the 2018 World Cup LOC.

[8]    FIFA, 'Statement on Human Rights Watch Report on Russia' (14 June 2017).

[9]    The Supreme Committee works closely with the Qatar 2022 LOC.

[10]   In April 2017, Impactt Ltd. published its first report.

[11]   The Supreme Committee and the BWI signed a memorandum of understanding in November 2016.

[12]   FIFA Statutes, Article 33(5). See also FIFA, '2016 Reform Committee Report' (2 December 2015) p. 9.

[13]   RSTP, Definitions.

[14]   RSTP, Article 12bis.

[15]   WFSGI Code of Conduct, Introduction.

[16]   It should be noted that, in December 2016, the Qatari government introduced certain reforms to its labour laws. However, Amnesty International asserted that these reforms ''barely scratch the surface of labour exploitation''.

[17]   One such example is the well-known 'Budweiser Law' – a law enacted by Brazil in the run-up to the 2014 World Cup allowing beer sales at match venues despite the fact that the sale of alcohol had been prohibited in Brazil's stadiums for almost ten years.