High Scores in Hypocrisy: The Real Game Esports Plays With Saudi Money

Pictured: Manahel al-Otaibi before she was arrested and sentenced to 11 years in prison by the Saudi government for speaking out about women's rights. Background Image credit: Qiddiya City Project/Saudi Arabia Government.

Editor’s Note: The following opinion piece is written by James O’Hagan and does not represent the views of The Esports Advocate and its staff.

There’s nothing like a heavy wallet to test the elasticity of one’s principles. In the sprawling, neon-drenched world of esports, where every other tweet trumpets a commitment to equality and inclusivity, the allure of Saudi money has proven irresistible. This isn’t just a minor slip; it’s a headlong plunge into a chasm of hypocrisy.

As Esports World Cup attendees polish their selfie sticks in anticipation of July’s event and companies race to slather brands on the backs and buildings of Riyadh’s Boulevard City, a young woman lies beaten and broken just twenty miles away in al-Malaz prison. Tortured, tried without representation and jailed for 11 years this spring by a secret Saudi tribunal that rebranded her yoga pants, unadorned hair and feminist Snapchat posts as the words and wardrobe of a terrorist, Manahel al-Otaibi spent her 30th birthday last week fighting for her life. As gamers and global grifters descend upon Riyadh to slay digital monsters next month, one wonders why they are showing no interest in fighting diplomatic ones for this young woman’s freedom. Here we stand, or more aptly, here we falter, at a juncture where the professed ideals of the gaming community are revealing themselves to be little more than a mirage under the hot sun— and brutal sons— of the Saudi Arabian regime.

With DreamHack Dallas wrapped up and Pride Month kicking off, the scattered confetti can’t camouflage the reality that we no longer need to wonder at what price we will trade the promise of equality in the industry for shareholder equity. Savvy Games Group, the Saudi government’s puppeteer with strings firmly attached to the Esports World Cup, DreamHack, and ESL FACEIT, washed away the delusion that human dignity wasn’t for sale when it drenched esports in billion dollar promises. Every handshake and grin at these events? Less about sportsmanship, more a silent nod to the Saudis’ flair for laundering their global image through sportswashing, pinkwashing, and femwashing. This not only legitimizes the presence of human rights abusers in the axis around which the industry spins but also casts a shadow over organizations and leaders in our community whose hypocrisy is rotting the foundations of their houses of cards. The esports and gaming community cannot walk forward into the digital frontier professing high ideals while simultaneously playing fiscal footsie under the table with a regime that executes children.

Corporate suits swear up and down that Saudi “hands-off” promises keep the gears grinding as usual, as if our moral compasses could be calibrated with a feisty public relations spin. It’s a smokescreen for a more insidious truth: the Saudis are using the gaming community as digital camouflage, profiting off the very ideals that would land their own citizens in serious legal trouble. How do those who wave the flag of equality reconcile this glaring contradiction? Why do so many self-proclaimed champions of human rights turn a blind eye to one of the planet’s most notorious human rights violators?

There are those who will argue—with a straight face, no less—that the influx of Saudi billions is just what the doctor ordered for the growth-starved corridors of esports. They will paint a picture of a world where the endorsements of the few up in the front row equate to empowerment for the masses in the shadows– where “engagement with problematic regimes” can magically transform centuries of human rights abuses into a rainbow bridge to equality. The audacity of this “engagement” strategy is grotesquely misguided and mislabeled. It ignores the fact that the feeding frenzy around the chum thrown in the prize pool by the Saudis is simply satiating the short-term appetites of tech bros whose unsustainable esports models burn up their funding runways even as the planes land on real ones in Riyadh.

The spectacle of Saudi-backed esports events presents a jarring contradiction to the values ostensibly celebrated within the gaming world. The 20 miles between Boulevard City and Manahel al-Otaibi’s incarceration at al-Malaz Prison is not far from being a metaphor for the malignant performativity spreading through esports in the form of words championing the cause of the month on social media tapped out by leaders who continue to fill chairs of power with straight, white men and turn away from even the most blatant examples of toxicity under their roofs.  Manahel–like so many vulnerable people–exists so close to the halls of power, yet worlds apart.

What we also are not talking about is the very real danger to visiting gamers. With no written penal code, the risks to visitors in general and marginalized communities in particular are stark, spotlighting the gross irresponsibility of those claiming to champion equality. During this high-profile event, Saudi authorities might choose to turn a blind eye to certain norms, showcasing a more lenient face to the global audience. Yet, how can we revel in our virtual escapes, where justice and heroism are the order of the day onscreen, while ignoring the grave injustices endured by individuals like al-Otaibi under such regimes? For those living in the margins of Saudi Arabia, the presence of such events can feel like a cruel paradox, highlighting freedoms they can see but not experience.

Prince Faisal bin Bandar bin Sultan Al Saud, chair of the Saudi Esports Federation, offers platitudes about the safety of marginalized communities. Yet, against the backdrop of Saudi Arabia’s stringent societal norms and punitive laws, such assurances ring hollow. The grim reality for gamers and spectators, especially those from marginalized groups considering attending the Esports World Cup, is dire and warrants not just our attention but our vigorous response. Women can’t interact freely with men, LGBTQ+ expressions can still land you in prison, and criticism of the government can get you publicly flogged or worse.

Imagine the seismic rumble that could have reverberated through the gaming world had every participant, every sponsor, every tweet-happy influencer slated for DreamHack Dallas simply chosen to stay home—unless Manahel al-Otaibi was released from her brutal confines. In the esports arena, politics is more than a sideshow—it’s the main event. The virtual battles waged on-screen bleed into realms of equality, economics, mental health, and entrepreneurialism; to pretend otherwise is to play the fool and akin to entering a chess match with nothing but a pawn.

Many organizations involved in DreamHack, their coffers padded with public funds and tax breaks, owe the public more than just entertainment—they owe transparency and accountability. And yet, we wade through murky waters of half-hearted commitments and nebulous strategies. Are these corporate leaders naive enough to think they can revolutionize human rights, or do they believe we’re too clueless to see through their façade, masking entanglements with dubious regimes?

The esports and gaming industry has made its bed with questionable funding; now it must lie in it and, apparently, about it. We, the greater gaming community, must summon the courage to champion ethical integrity and align ourselves truly with marginalized groups, steering our collective path back towards the values we so loudly profess. The moment for action is now. History will not laud those who remain silent in the face of oppression but will honor those who champion justice, even when it’s inconvenient. The gaming community faces a stark choice: continue down a compromised path or decisively act to reclaim its moral compass. The world watches, and the legacy we forge starts with our actions today.

About the Author: James O’Hagan has spent more than 25 years in education, and believes the power of gaming and esports to transform learning for students. He is a lifelong gamer, and host of The Academy of Esports podcast.