BRICS And The Business Of Sport

The West’s economic dominance has always been reflected in sports. Mining, manufacturing, even diplomacy, were contested terrain, but cricket tournaments, football clubs, golf tours, and motorsports were supposed to reflect the dominance of a Western-led global order.  

This has already changed. The economic rise of the BRICS powers has seen China host Olympic Games, South Africa dominate rugby, and India rule cricket, while the Gulf monarchies compete to purchase football clubs and host Formula One races. Ownership, sponsorship, broadcasting rights, success on the pitch, and athlete migration all tell the same story.

Although perfectly normal today, Abramovich’s takeover of Chelsea in 2003 was a landmark development. A Russian oligarch had purchased a London football club, transforming the way teams raise capital to fund player purchases. It demonstrated that private capital could convert a middling club into a serial winner and football has never been the same since.

Manchester City’s acquisition in 2008 by Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan of Abu Dhabi came next. However, this was no longer about a single wealthy individual indulging a passion, but a sovereign-ruler building a globally recognisable brand. Football clubs have subsequently become investments which generate political capital rather than financial returns.

Saudi Arabia soon joined the party with its enormous Public Investment Fund (PIF) acquiring Newcastle United. This was followed by the signing of Cristiano Ronaldo to Al-Nassr in the Saudi league, reinforcing the point that money had become more important than tradition.

Economic power has shifted and even countries that do not have an established heritage in a particular sport can buy their way in. Qatar hosting a World Cup was equally contentious and Saudi Arabia is set to host the 2034 edition, further reinforcing this trend.  

Golf has been similarly co-opted. The European Tour was rebranded the DP World Tour, named after the title sponsor, a Dubai-based logistics giant, while the launch of LIV Golf made clear the extent to which the US fears the loss of prestige associated with a decline in economic power.

LIV Golf’s strategy was unapologetically disruptive. Vast prize pools and guaranteed contracts lured major champions away from the well-stablished tournaments of the PGA Tour. The South African players enjoyed early success, underscoring the competitive quality of the new format. Nevertheless, the launch of a rival league resulted in bitter acrimony, litigation and hypocritical accusations of sportswashing.

While those who claimed LIV Golf was unsustainable have been vindicated as the PIF withdraws funding, the moral outrage was curiously selective. The PIF had long sponsored PGA Tour events and the US government still maintains close ties with Saudi Arabia. As such, the notion that pro golfers bear a unique ethical burden to avoid doing business with the Saudis rings hollow.

The real discomfort lies elsewhere. LIV Golf exposed the vulnerability of a Western sporting institution to a well-funded rival. Golfers had always played in America because that is where the biggest prize purses were. If they could earn more playing somewhere else, it hinted at the possibility of a relative decline in American economic power.

The United States desperately needs allies like Saudi Arabia to sell oil in dollars and then use those dollars to purchase US made weapons and US Treasuries. The fact that Americans were so upset about some golf tournaments indicates the importance patriots attach to sports and the national prestige associated with producing winners and hosting major events.

British Golf has not been immune to these disruptions. Wentworth, long regarded as the most prestigious private club in the United Kingdom, was acquired by Chinese billionaire Chanchai Ruayrungruang in 2014. Wentworth is not merely real estate, it is a social institution, deeply entwined with Britain’s corporate and sporting elite. Its sale to a foreign investor signalled that even the most exclusive bastions of Western sports culture are subject to global capital flows.

India’s competitive and commercial cricketing success is another excellent example of how a sporting code can impact national prestige. While LIV Golf’s government funded, single owner model failed to sustainably disrupt golf, the private sector led Indian Premier League, with its multiple franchise owners, has successfully redefined the economics of modern cricket.

Embracing a shorter and more entertaining 20 over format while incorporating colourful kits and cheerleaders, the IPL revolutionized the game with broadcast deals, franchise valuations and sponsorship revenues dwarfing the combined revenues of all other cricketing nations. Cricket boards around the world now structure their international calendars around a domestic league.

The implications for the game have been profound. Players can establish global reputations before ever making their international debuts. Domestic leagues such as South Africa’s SA20 exist largely as satellites of the IPL ecosystem. A historically English sport has been taken over by one of its former colonial subjects. You are not just watching cricket matches, but history.

Motorsport offers further examples of how sporting geography follows capital. Formula One, formerly British but now under American ownership, has expanded aggressively beyond its traditional European roots. Races in Bahrain, Abu Dhabi and Saudi Arabia are regular fixtures, underwritten by state investment and sponsorship from companies such as Aramco.

Meanwhile, traditional European race tracks have quietly disappeared from the calendar with the absence of a German Grand Prix having previously been unthinkable. The recent expansion into the US market and Middle East has been notable after Malaysia (1999), China (2004), and Singapore (2008) were added to the calendar, coinciding with the rising economic prestige of host countries who pay tens of millions of dollars just for the rights to host a race.

Taken together, these developments across various sporting codes reveal a consistent pattern. The BRICS and their aligned partners are not simply buying assets and hosting events, they are acquiring influence in industries that shape global attention and cultural legitimacy. Sport offers visibility that infrastructure or manufacturing rarely can. Sport delivers soft power at scale.

The Western response has been revealing. The money is welcomed, often eagerly, but the loss of narrative control provokes unease. Moral arguments are deployed inconsistently, and usually after the fact. What is rarely acknowledged is that sport now reflects a multipolar economic reality. Influence follows capital, and capital is no longer solely concentrated in the West.

The question is not whether this shift can be reversed. The question is whether Westerners can psychologically adapt to a world in which power is shared, contested, and increasingly shaped by emerging markets. Sport has always mirrored the global order. Today, that mirror reflects a world that is far bigger, richer, and less Western than at any point in modern sporting history.