Middle East Influence on English Football: Power, Perception and the Future of Control
By Tahmid Habib
Fifteen years ago, Middle Eastern ownership in English football was treated as a curiosity, an ambitious attempt by Abu Dhabi to transform Manchester City from a mid-table Premier League outfit into a European contender. At the time, few believed investment from the Gulf would do more than fund a few expensive signings. Today, that takeover is widely recognised as the beginning of a seismic shift in the balance of power over the sport
Manchester City’s sale to Abu Dhabi’s City Football Group in 2008 did not simply change a club. It changed football’s economic logic. City Football Group did not just buy a team; they built a network. Manchester became the centre of a global football project that spans Europe, the United States, Brazil, India and Japan. It created a system in which talent, sponsorships and influence could move around the world but ultimately reinforce one club. Money stopped being an advantage. It became a weapon.
When Newcastle United was acquired in 2021 by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund, the landscape had already changed. The deal was not about nostalgia for English football or a wealthy owner wanting a pet project. It fit within a much wider attempt to reshape Saudi Arabia’s global image, part of the same momentum that pushed huge investments into boxing, Formula 1 and the Saudi Pro League. Football was no longer just a sport. It became a tool of national reputation, a vehicle for soft power.
Qatar understood this long before anyone else. Paris Saint Germain, Qatar Airways sponsorships and the 2022 World Cup formed a strategy built on visibility. Where traditional diplomacy relies on meetings and policy, football speaks to the world emotionally. Football becomes the message.
These developments have pushed the Premier League into unfamiliar territory. Clubs were once owned by local businessmen or unpredictable billionaires. Now some are backed, financially and legally, by entire states. The Premier League has become a marketplace where global politics and sporting ambition collide.
Nothing highlighted the tension more than February 2023, when the Premier League charged Manchester City with 115 alleged breaches of financial regulations over a nine-year period. The accusations involve revenue reporting, sponsorship valuations and how managerial salaries were declared. Manchester City deny all wrongdoing. The details will play out in legal chambers, not newspaper headlines. But the bigger story isn’t the paperwork, it’s the power dynamic. For the first time, a domestic league is attempting to regulate a club supported by the resources of a state. It raises an uncomfortable question. Can football’s rules withstand the power of a government?
While that legal battle unfolds, a different conversation echoes across stadiums and fan forums: the belief that influence may extend, even subtly, into officiating. The Premier League and the refereeing body PGMOL insist that refereeing decisions remain completely independent. There is no evidence of interference. But football has always existed on the line between what we know and what we feel. Every controversial VAR decision involving Manchester City or Newcastle fuels speculation. Not because supporters believe referees are corrupted, but because they believe the system now protects commercial value.
When state money funds clubs, their success becomes part of the league’s global brand. The Premier League sells unpredictability, but it also sells dominance. The more valuable the product, the more pressure there is to protect it. At least, that is how many fans see it. The perception becomes the problem. When supporters start asking whether the Premier League is a competition or a business product, trust begins to erode.
What makes Middle Eastern investment unique is not the volume of money but the purpose behind it. Ownership brings legitimacy. Sponsorship brings visibility. Success brings influence. Football becomes a form of communication, more effective than any diplomatic speech or political summit. Buy a club and you buy a global story.
This leaves the Premier League in a delicate position. It wants to enforce rules to preserve competitive fairness, yet it also relies on the investment that state owners bring. Push too hard and it risks losing investment. Push too softly and it risks losing credibility. Both options carry consequences.
Verdict
Fans feel that tension more than anyone. Football was built on unpredictability, rivalry and community identity. Suddenly, supporters find themselves watching a sport where decisions happen in boardrooms, where transfers are influenced by geopolitics, and where the meaning of a football club stretches far beyond a goal or a trophy. The chants, the atmosphere, the heartbreak and joy remain the soul of football. But towering above that soul sits a different force altogether: power.
Football has changed. The Premier League is richer, more powerful and more global than ever. But the price of that transformation is uncertainty over who truly governs the game and what their priorities are.
Whether this new era strengthens football or strips away its authenticity will depend on what happens next, not just on the pitch but in courtrooms, offices and VAR control rooms. What is beyond debate is this. Middle Eastern investment hasn’t just influenced English football. It has shifted its centre of gravity.