The absence of the World Cup on Lebanese televisions increases political animosity | Tech Reddy

On the third day of the FIFA World Cup, Fadi Alayan looked at a frozen phone screen at his home in Beirut. In the next room, his son was just as upset.

This is not unusual in the capital of Lebanon, but the timing of the Wi-Fi cut – during the second half of the match between France and Australia – was important.

“By the time it came back, France was 2-1 up and I missed the goal,” said Mr Alayan.

Her options for watching the game with her son elsewhere were as unreliable as the Wi-Fi connection.

Despite the efforts of the Minister of Information Ziad Makari, the games are not broadcast by the Lebanese television station, Tele Liban, depriving fans of the opportunity to watch for free.

“This year – it’s like the government is telling us, ‘everyone is on their own’,” said Mr Alayan.

For three years, Lebanese citizens have endured a financial collapse that has resulted in savings being locked up in banks, their wages and pensions reduced to a fraction of what they were once worth, their basic needs – electricity, water, bread and medicine – in short supply. and their future becomes uncertain.

Now, even the biggest football tournament is out of reach.

The political crisis hits home

Again, it is not a matter of money in a cash-strapped nation: the money is there to pay the Qatari broadcaster, Mr Makari said.

“We had a very good deal,” he said. “It is half of the money we paid for broadcasting the World Cup in 2018.

“But because we have an acting government that cannot meet, we cannot pay a private broadcaster without the approval of the Council of Ministers.”

For many, the failure to secure the rights to broadcast the World Cup to Lebanese fans – which will remain the norm – is a troubling sign of political dysfunction in Lebanon.

The country operates without a president and its cabinet is considered resigned, serving only in an acting capacity since parliamentary elections were held on 15 May.

According to the constitution, the acting government does not have the right to meet or make important decisions except when the circumstances justify it. And a new list of government cannot be made without the appointment of a new president – no easy task for a joint parliament that has not been able to agree on a candidate.

The lack of government has resulted in the country being left in a state of paralysis.

Mr Makari acknowledged the message of desperation conveyed by the absence of the World Cup from national TV screens.

“If we had a fully empowered government, this would not have happened,” he said Nation.

“I’m sorry. I wish everyone could watch it for free.”

Pay to watch or don’t watch at all

Inside an internet gaming cafe, a group of young men, all of whom paid a small fee to watch, watched the France-Australia game in silence.

In many parts of Beirut the vibe is muted – not what one would expect on a World Cup night in an Arab country.

“This is like a lesson,” said Tawfic Amayrat, a 25-year-old cafe manager. “I’m not surprised.”

If previous World Cups are any indication, under normal circumstances, cafes would be full of customers and rowdy fans, chants and jeers echoing across the capital.

But on the third day of the World Cup, the streets are eerily quiet.

“Ball,” said Mr. Amayrat sadly as he stood outside the restaurant. “They want to take that away from us.”

He and his customers are lucky the gaming center has an annual subscription to beIN Sports, the Qatari sports channel that broadcasts the World Cup.

While in previous years, football cafes would have a melee of paying and non-paying customers piling on top of each other in anticipation of a goal, this year, centers across the capital charge an entrance fee or set a small fee.

Entry to a cafe can cost anywhere between $3 to $15, depending on the establishment.

Hashem Zoghby, a 21-year-old motorcycle mechanic in the Beirut suburb of Choueifat, said he used to watch World Cup matches with his family at home and would go to a cafe with friends for big matches.

On the first day, Mr. Zoghby and his parents watched the news of the opening ceremony of the World Cup. But without a monthly subscription to beIN Sports, that was as close as they got.

“Even the poorest countries broadcast the World Cup. Everyone except Lebanon – we can’t do that,” he said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

For individuals, the monthly subscription fee for BEIN Sports is $95 — down from $125, but out of reach for many. The salary of a typical Lebanese worker is about $50 to $100 a month.

“I don’t think anyone can afford this unless you have a cafe,” Mr Zoghby said. “For ordinary people like me, it is impossible to get this fee. If they did, that would mean no food for the next month.

“Meanwhile our politicians are in Qatar, watching the games live.”

Inside the cafes

But some cafes and bars that used to broadcast the World Cup could not access it this year because of the sliding prices – depending on location and capacity – set by the Qatari sports channel.

A bar owner in the Hamra area told Nation that the licensed broadcasting company beIN Sports was charging his two centers $7,000 and $4,000 for subscription, respectively.

The rate would be stable in previous years, he said, but with fewer customers able to buy the night, the distribution is no longer profitable.

“The generator bill alone is enough to worry about,” he said, referring to the very expensive generator fees that most people and institutions rely on in the absence of government electricity.

Outside a large, glittering cafe in the center of the capital, a handful of customers are watching the game on big-screen televisions – a handful of valets standing across the street who have a clear line of sight to the game. They watched with interest from the sidelines.

“Okay, we have these TVs to watch,” said Valet Hassan Saffeye.

Mr. Saffeye’s son, meanwhile, is not so lucky.

“I feel bad. I can’t afford him to watch in the cafe every time there is a game,” said Mr. Saffeye disappointed.

Despite this, his view is more pragmatic compared to the younger football fans he talks to Nation: “We are adapting to the situation. There is no other way.”

But Mr. Amayrat, the cafe manager, is even more angry.

“This failed country is our problem. Football was the thing that made us forget and watching it became our problem. Soon they will be doing something as simple as breathing our problem, too.”

Mr. Zoghby goes further, linking the government’s failure to air sports on public television to the future prospects of Lebanon’s youth.

“Lebanon took everything from us. We cannot live comfortably. We cannot get married or build a house. And now we are banned from the World Cup – the least fun – unless we can pay. “

Updated: November 24, 2022, 1:30 AM