As FIFA prepares for the 2034 World Cup in Saudi Arabia, football fans worldwide are beginning to imagine what the tournament will look like under the kingdom’s firm cultural and religious framework. One significant decision, made early and without ambiguity, has already marked this World Cup as a departure from tradition: there will be no alcohol in or around stadiums. It’s a rare moment of clarity in an event often shaped by last-minute concessions and backroom negotiations. Where Qatar stumbled in 2022, Saudi Arabia has stood resolutely, ensuring local customs precede global expectations.
The ban, at first glance, feels like a continuation of Saudi Arabia’s long-standing alcohol prohibition, enforced since 1952. There are no licensed bars in Riyadh, no discreet pub culture, and no quiet nods to indulgence. Alcohol remains tightly restricted, embedded in the kingdom’s social and legal framework. Its leaders are unapologetic about applying those principles to one of the world’s most lucrative and visible sporting events.
Prince Abdulaziz bin Turki Al-Faisal, the Sports Minister, was clear when addressing the decision two years ago during the Qatar World Cup. Visitors, he said, are welcome but must respect the rules. The message is clear for those unwilling to comply: “do not come.”
Here’s Prince Abdulaziz bin Turki Al-Faisal’s warning in full: “The World Cup is for everyone. If you are against that, and you don’t feel like you’re going to enjoy your time coming, and you can’t respect that rule, then don’t come. It’s as simple as that.”
Football traditions meet strict Saudi rules
The decision contrasts sharply with Qatar’s handling of alcohol restrictions during the 2022 World Cup. After initially promising alcohol access, Qatari officials reversed course just days before kickoff. The fallout forced FIFA to compensate Budweiser, its major sponsor, to the tune of $51 million. Saudi Arabia’s transparency, while refreshing, also signals a tournament shaped not by compromise but by cultural absolutism. For FIFA, the lesson from Qatar is clear: do not expect flexibility.
Not all fans are pleased. Online forums and comment sections have captured widespread frustration. Some mourn the erosion of football’s beer-soaked traditions, while others question the wisdom of hosting consecutive World Cups in a region with restrictive social policies. LGBTQ+ fans, in particular, have voiced fears about safety in a country where their identities could put them at risk. Critics argue that FIFA, once again, has prioritized oil wealth over ethical considerations.
Saudi Arabia is not without experience in hosting international sports. Events like the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix and the Club World Cup have attracted millions of fans, and celebrations, devoid of alcohol, have proceeded smoothly. At the Grand Prix, rose water replaces champagne in podium celebrations—an adaptation that reflects the kingdom’s ability to infuse its customs into global events. However, scaling this model to a World Cup raises larger questions about infrastructure, fan experience, and inclusivity.
Beneath the alcohol ban lies a deeper tension. The World Cup is more than a tournament; it is a global economy, a carnival of fans and sponsors, and a spectacle. For Budweiser, FIFA’s partner since 1986, beer is not just a product but a symbol of football culture: its rituals, messiness, and camaraderie. With beer sales off the table, sponsors must adapt. Saudi Aramco already signed a $406 million agreement with FIFA, underscoring the kingdom’s financial muscle.
This financial influence has only sharpened scrutiny of FIFA’s motives. Critics ask why nations like Australia or the United Kingdom, with ready infrastructure and deep football traditions, were overlooked. Iconic venues like Wembley, Old Trafford, and Anfield are tournament-ready. By contrast, Saudi Arabia faces questions about building 15 new stadiums, with concerns about migrant labor conditions already emerging.
With over a decade to go, the alcohol ban is only the first chapter. Saudi Arabia has clarified that the world must adapt to its rules, not vice versa. Whether this represents a cultural reckoning or alienates fans remains to be seen. What is certain is that football’s biggest stage will look and feel different in 2034.
