Ugly truths behind the glitter of mega sporting events

The drama and excitement of the World Cup with last minute goals and unexpected outcomes had gripped millions. ‘Second countries’ were adopted as one’s own, sports pages were devoured every morning and exotic names like Mbappe, Akinfeev and De Bruyne were rolling off Indian tongues as though they are our own.

I have been as washed along in FIFA fever as the next person. But every now and then, in all this football frenzy, I remember a South African professor I met in a conference a few years ago. She told me about the devastating effects that the World Cup held in her native Johannesburg — on the poorer populations of the city. When South Africa won the bid to host the World Cup in 2010, it seemed that the mega event presented the country with a unique opportunity to fast-track its urban development. The event was supposed to be a catalyst for improving the lives of the historically disadvantaged in the apartheid city. 

Underdeveloped and peripheral areas were to be renewed and linked to the rest of the city through new transport connections. Very little of that eventually happened, if at all. The only change was that food, transport and property became costlier as rich tourists trooped in, making life even tougher for the poor.

When developing countries choose to bid for international sporting events, invariably there is opposition as the marginalised and powerless communities gain little (material benefit) from such events. The argument of the protestors is that these events are no more than public relations ventures benefiting a few rich men and a bunch of global corporations associated with the event. They often exacerbate the city’s urban problems and challenges.

Beautifying the city invariably means pushing away those who don’t quite fit into the local authority’s idea of a ‘beautiful, world class city’. Slums, unauthorised colonies, the homeless and other “eyesores” are tucked away somewhere in the periphery. It has been estimated that the 1988 Seoul Olympics resulted in the eviction of 700,000 people and 300,000 have been displaced for the Beijing Olympics. The displaced are never accommodated back again because they were unauthorised to begin with. These households then lose their access to jobs and schools that they were managing to get by locating themselves in the center.

There is widespread agreement among researchers that the urban poor derive no benefit from huge sports infrastructure like stadiums. This is true even in the developed world. In Atlanta, after the 1996 Olympics, there was no improvement in the living conditions of the urban residents. Existing housing gaps increased in Sydney, Barcelona and London, soon after the Olympics as real estate prices, especially of those properties that were located close to the stadiums, skyrocketed. Any employment that is created is ephemeral and is over when the event is.

Closer home, a book called Sellotape Legacy: Delhi and the Commonwealth Games asks some blunt questions about who exactly benefited from ‘all the digging and window dressing’ that happened in the run up to the Commonwealth Games held in 2010. Anyone who lived in the capital at that time and saw the hasty renovations and desperate redevelopment that happened in various localities would agree that these are questions worth pondering over. Ecologically-sensitive green areas in south Delhi were cleared up to build luxury hotels and malls. Homes and workplaces of thousands of urban squatters and migrants were demolished in a bid to make Delhi ‘world-class’.

In Greater Noida, in 2011, the first Formula One racing event was held. The Jaypee Group built a racing track called Buddh International Centre, to rival the one in Milan and Monaco. There was much excitement in the run up to the event. International music stars and the big guns of Bollywood were present. Poor little Greater Noida, still only half urbanised, had never seen so much action. Soon after that, I was speaking to residents of villages bordering the racing track as part of the research for my book. 

They were distressed on various counts. A huge wall had been built between the village and the track, affecting their access to Dadri, the nearest town; they had not got their monetary compensation for the intrusion into their land; they were fighting legal cases with a giant corporate and were overwhelmed with all the disruption in their lives. At the 2012 Grand Prix, I found that the stands were half empty. The event has not been held since 2013, following tax disputes between the FI body and the Uttar Pradesh government. Now the race track lies forlorn except for some occasional vintage car rallies.

After the mega event is over, no one (except a few academics) analyses the impact, as the organisers disband and governments focus their attention on other activities. The big sporting event is transient, but its impact on the city’s social and economic life as well as physical structure is long lasting and devastating for many. 

The writer is the author of the book Urban Villager: Life in an Indian satellite town. Views expressed are personal.