Feminist insights on the World Cup: football and gender oppression

During the World Cup, the soccer field is no longer just a space for a huge sporting event, but rather turns into one of the most prominent manifestations of global capitalism, which not only transformed football into an industry that generates billions, but also reproduced gender roles and harnessed them to serve the market.

The game, which has historically been associated with popular neighborhoods and the working classes, is no longer immune to the logic of monopoly and commodification. As broadcasting rights become fiercely guarded, and both ticket and subscription fees skyrocket, until the pleasure of following football itself has become more of a class privilege than a common public right.

In this context, the opportunistic nature of global capital is not limited to the commodification of the game itself. Stereotypes and positions of power within sports space are also reproduced in a way that serves the logic of profit. Men are placed at the center of heroism, effectiveness, and sovereignty, while the presence of women is reduced to marginal roles, whether as invisible labor or as an existence measured by its consumer value.

However, this picture is not that simple. Behind the flags, chants and festive atmosphere, other, less tumultuous questions arise regarding the status of women within the world of football and the limits of their presence in it. Why is a woman’s passion for the game still sometimes questioned and ridiculed? Why does its existence sometimes turn into a consumer image or an unsafe experience? Does the world’s most popular game solely reflect prevailing gender roles, or does capitalism that regulates and surrounds it also contribute to its production and re-establishment?

From the “offsides” joke to virtual stadiums: civil conflict and commodification

The joke of “explaining the offsides law to women” was not just casual in football culture. Over time, it turned into one of the most common tools for reproducing an imaginary hierarchy, portraying women as being unable to comprehend football tactics, as if they are merely strange visitors to a space supposedly reserved for men. At its core, this joke reflects nothing more than an ongoing attempt to protect the monopoly on football knowledge and keep the legitimacy of talking about the game a male privilege.

During the weeks of the World Cup, this cultural exclusion translates into commercial practices that limit the role of women to a purely consumer and domestic sphere. The “World Cup” advertisements reproduce traditional roles by always portraying women as responsible for cleaning up the mess after viewing evenings, or preparing snacks that facilitate men’s pleasure.

Nevertheless, when women decide to leave this domestic sphere and occupy the stadium, the media reproduces their role by reducing them to a purely visual dimension. The stadiums of the “World Cup” turn into an arena for commodification by focusing the cameras of TV channels and directors on specific categories of female fans, who possess stereotypical characteristics similar to “beauty queens.” 

These directorial choices do not convey football passion or true belonging as much as they turn women into a visual attraction attached to the tournament. The matter is not limited to the image alone, but sometimes extends to the media discourse itself, when some comments and coverage turn into a space to flirt with female fans and comment on their appearance and attractiveness, transferring attention from their presence as fans to their bodies as an item for display or objectification.

Thus, it is ingrained in the collective consciousness that a woman’s presence on the field remains conditional on her suitability to the stereotype that reduces her to a sexually objectifiable body and a commodifiable element, making her presence subject to the male gaze rather than an expression of an authentic football passion.

This siege does not end at the boundaries of the real stadium, but today extends to the “virtual stadium” created by social media platforms. As soon as a woman expresses a tactical opinion, gives a reading of a match, or celebrates her favorite team, she finds herself facing a torrent of ridicule, skepticism, and cyberbullying, as if the old “offsides” joke has decided to be reborn in digital form.

What sometimes seems like a casual joke hides a constant attempt to draw invisible boundaries that determine who has the right to speak, who is given the legitimacy to interpret the game, and who is recognized as a “real” fan. Thus, digital platforms are becoming a new extension of the real arena, and the same old battle over the monopoly of football knowledge and the legitimacy of belonging to the world of football is being transferred to them.

Yet, today this multi-layered reduction faces a different reality imposed by millions of women who follow football, understand its tactical details, and are connected to their teams by the same passion and belonging. This increasing presence constitutes a practical dismantling of the view that has long treated football as a closed male space, and confirms that women do not stand on the sidelines of the game, but rather at its heart.

Who owns the stadium? Gender and safety in the sports space

Behind the festive atmosphere of the World Cup, a recurring and almost constant structural pattern unfolds across different versions and continents, where massive mass influx and excessive alcohol consumption are interconnected with the seasonal revival of commercial sexual exploitation networks and the prostitution market, entrenching the view of women as an objectifiable body and an element attached to the economy of exploitation that flourishes on the sidelines of the tournament.

Some editions of the tournament provide clear examples of this pattern. In Europe, specifically in the 2006 World Cup in Germany, the organization of the tournament sparked widespread controversy after legalizing the construction of so-called temporary “service complexes” near stadiums, such as the Manhattan complex in Berlin.

These complexes attracted tens of thousands of women, especially from Eastern European countries, who were suffering from fragile economic conditions, to feed the networks of prostitution and commercial sexual exploitation that flourished in conjunction with the event.

This pattern did not change when moving to the African continent. In the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, human rights warnings about the activity of cross-border organized crime networks targeting women were repeated locally and regionally in conjunction with the tournament.

Meanwhile, in Latin America, during the 2014 World Cup in Brazil, the same dilemma emerged when commercial networks exploited the difficult economic conditions of women in marginal neighborhoods to engage them in this exploitative commercial sector.

Added to this commercial dimension is the transformation of the spaces surrounding the stadiums in these editions, historically, into high-risk environments due to high rates of sexual harassment, which prompted a segment of female fans to withdraw into the home sphere or deal with the public experience with caution to avoid verbal or physical threats. This withdrawal was not a reflection of a lack of football passion, but rather a result of a varying sense of security within the public space.

In contrast to this deep-rooted pattern, the Qatar 2022 World Cup experience was a procedural example proving that the architecture of public space is subject to change. The adoption of strict regulatory policies, most notably prohibiting the sale, circulation, and drinking of alcohol in the vicinity of stadiums and fan spaces, has reduced the traditional climate that has often been associated with harassment and mass violence. 

The precise security control system also contributed to creating a more stable and safe environment, which was reflected in the experience of many female fans who described the tournament as one of the most comfortable and safe versions of the World Cup for them. This organizational model has allowed female fans to be freely and safely present within the sports space, demonstrating that women’s sense of security is not linked to chance or individual behavior alone, but is also influenced by the structural policies and organizational choices adopted by the host country.

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Thus, the World Cup experience reveals that women’s right to occupy the stadiums is not determined by their individual courage or endurance, but by how public space is designed and by whom. Stadiums, like other public spaces, are not neutral spaces, but rather determine who feels safe and who is forced to retreat. Therefore, women’s battle for recognition as full fans is inseparable from their right to exist freely and safely within the sporting space itself.

The world of football and its relationship to class, labor and immigration 

While the world’s eyes turn to the stars, matches and historic moments, much of the work that makes the World Cup possible remains out of the limelight. Behind the festive scene, thousands of women work in the hospitality, service, cleaning and care sectors, many of whom are immigrants or migrant workers from countries of the Global South. At this level, gender roles intersect not only with football, but with global class and economic disparities that make women more present in lower-paying, less visible and less recognized jobs.

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This paradox may reveal that the world of football, like other fields, is shaped not only by gender relations, but also by relations of class, work, and immigration. While players, stars and stadiums occupy the forefront of the scene, a large part of the work that ensures the continuation of this global event remains based on invisible efforts that do not receive the same attention. Therefore, looking at the World Cup through feminist eyes is not limited to questioning the position of women in the stadiums or in front of the cameras, but also extends to questioning who works in the background, who is recognized, and whose presence remains necessary, even if it remains less visible.

Hallah Abdullah is the Managing Editor of Taqadoom Platform.