Sport and Human Rights: Are International Federations Accountable Without Law?” International Sports Law, Human Rights

International sport is governed not by international courts or treaties, but rather autonomous federations that pride themselves on their neutrality. Though they are private entities with no legal obligations, evolving norms and soft law principles indicate that there is growing pressure on these organisations to assume accountability and uphold international human rights standards. But as international tournaments become increasingly tainted by human rights abuses – from gender exclusion to forced labour – the question remains: Can these federations be held accountable when fundamental rights are violated?

Ultimately, this depends on whether there is a concept of ‘international sports law’, as opposed to ‘global sports law’. Whilst the former can be enforced in national courts, the latter implies some immunity from national law. As legal scholar Ken Foster notes, the current system offers “a cloak for continued self-regulation” and espouses customs and practices that do not align with international standards of law. Foster proposes two essential reforms: first, that the International Olympic Committee (IOC) act as an overarching authority over international sport, as most federations still have a monopoly over their own sport. Moreover, he calls for a unique set of norms to be established – Lex Sportiva – governing sport independently yet in alignment with universal legal principles.

The need for such reform is patently illustrated by FIFA’s decision to stage the Men’s World Cup in Qatar in 2022. Despite a well-documented neglect for human rights, especially regarding the treatment of migrant workers, the nation was chosen to host the tournament. The decision was widely criticised, especially after it was revealed that thousands of migrant workers died whilst constructing stadiums for the World Cup. FIFA itself created a human rights policy in 2017, which references the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, but has no clear enforcement tool or will to compel change. This case highlights the legal vacuum in which international sport operates, whereby FIFA – while publicly committed to human rights – is not legally accountable to international standards of law.

The reforms Qatar eventually adopted, including a minimum wage and new labour courts, were largely driven by public pressure from media, governments, and NGOs. Moreover, reports by Amnesty International and the ILO suggest that many reforms have not been enforced or sustained since the tournament. As global attention has faded, Qatar has weakened labour inspections, removed protections, and wage abuses have subsequently reemerged. This highlights the reactive and disingenuous nature of these changes, exposing the limits of a legal environment which relies on accountability driven by public pressure.

It is also not an isolated decision, the World Cup was awarded to Russia (2018) and will be held in Saudi Arabia (2034), both nations with questionable human rights records. This clearly exposes the limits of the current legal environment, its ability to protect rights, and the need for clear legal accountability in sports governance. Qatar and FIFA’s response to human rights abuse allegations – though imperfect – demonstrated how international pressure, in the absence of binding legislation, can trigger reform when the country in question has something to gain: global prestige, tourism, and legitimacy through sport.

In contrast, Afghanistan’s engagement with international cricket following the Taliban takeover has exposed the limits of this dynamic. Despite the Taliban’s total ban on women playing sport, the ICC (International Cricket Council) has taken no disciplinary action. Under its own constitution, full membership – held by only twelve nations - requires that a country field both a men’s and women’s team. Yet, since 2021, the Afghan men’s team has continued to participate in international tournaments and tours, despite significant backlash, including political pressure from the UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer and more than two hundred MPs. Although the Afghan Cricket Board is nominally independent, its chairman was initially chosen by the regime, and is thus operating under Taliban influence.

Unlike Qatar however, Afghanistan’s regime is not seeking international validation through sport – it is opposed to the very idea of inclusion and is thus less reactive to international pressure. Meanwhile, the ICC has no human rights obligations and limited enforcement mechanisms. As a result of this legal vacuum, the exclusion of women from playing cricket has gone unchallenged, and any political efforts directed at the ICC have been ineffectual.

There is a precedent for this, in the 1970s the South African national team was banned from playing international cricket in response to the country’s apartheid regime. In this case, action was led by the ICC and players representing other nations, which came almost fifteen years before the UN’s International Convention against Apartheid in Sports. Punishing the players would however be a counterproductive resolution in the case of Afghanistan, as the team has vocalised its efforts to use sport to influence change in the country. The women’s team meanwhile has been consistently neglected by the ICC, illustrating how when international federations lack legal obligation and political will, even flagrant human rights abuses may go unaddressed.

This is not just a failure of moral courage, it is a legal blind spot that is exploited by international sports federations and authoritarian states alike. The legal limbo that these federations operate under, is completely self-regulated legal order that exists outside national courts and international law. As legal scholar Tom Serby observes, it serves as “a cloak for continued self-regulation”, shielding these federations from external accountability and scrutiny. Without binding law, these bodies act only when it is in their interest to do so, often when their commercial interest or reputation is at risk. Accountability and action will thus remain selective, whether it’s the silence on Afghanistan, or the reactive reforms in Qatar, the result of a legal system which responds to pressure rather than principle.

If global sport is to have moral legitimacy, its legal architecture must evolve. Conditioning participation and hosting rights to enforceable human rights standards may bridge some of this gap, whilst a ‘Sports Human Rights Charter’, led by federations and civil society could be a mechanism for reform. Ultimately without a significant shift in sports governance, the gap between sport’s ideals and its governance will only grow.