Saudi takeover of Newcastle is all about regional rivalry

Mohamed Al Fayed wanted to see me. He asked me to go to his apartment in Park Lane. When I got there, he said he’d come down. The Harrods owner arrived in the lobby and took me by the arm and led me to the grass island between the lanes of traffic.

Above the din, he said: “Baldy, I buy Fulham.” I’d no idea what he was talking about and said so. He said he’d bought the South-West London football club. “Baldy, I get Pele, I get George Best.”

After I pointed out that Pele was then 57 years old (it was 1997), which was too old to run around, even for him, and he had no track record as a manager, and that Georgie was an alcoholic, he relented: “Okay, I get someone else.” He did as well, alighting on another superstar, Kevin Keegan, to take charge, and Fulham’s rise out of the lower leagues began.

I was thinking on this after hearing that Newcastle United had finally been sold to a consortium backed by the country’s £700bn sovereign wealth fund.

Doubtless, the new owners have a shopping list of stellar targets to manage Newcastle and to play for the club. For them, football is an accessory, an asset to be coveted, same as super-superyachts (they’ve got those), giant palaces (tick), coveted oil paintings (the Crown Prince who heads the country’s investment fund owns the world’s most expensive artwork, Leonardo’s Salvator Mundi).

Football falls into the same category. There are those who maintain the Saudis are doing it for “sportswashing” reasons – owning a club like Newcastle will gain them PR kudos, similar to putting on major sports events in their country.

I don’t buy this argument. It might be a motivation, but it’s not the main one. What gnaws away at the Saudis is that two of the world’s most successful teams, Manchester City and PSG, belong to Sheikh Mansour, deputy prime minister of the United Arab Emirates and member of the royal family of Abu Dhabi, and to a subsidiary of Qatar’s state wealth fund, respectively.

UAE, Qatar, and now Saudi – that’s what the purchase of the Toon is all about. It’s to do with powerful men who run countries squaring off against each other.

Yes, the new proprietors want to win the Premier League but the first aim will be to beat Manchester City and to finish above them in the league. Likewise, their goal is to secure the European Champions League, but a primary objective will be to defeat City and PSG. If Liverpool or Manchester United, say, are English and European champions, no matter – so long as Newcastle do better than Saudis’ neighbours and rivals.

In that, they are little different from tycoons such as Fayed or Liverpool’s John Henry or the Glazers at Manchester United. They’re not doing it to improve how they’re regarded. There are easier ways of achieving that than football ownership.

I was once asked by a publicity-shy private equity house what it would mean for them if they bought Sainsbury’s. I replied that they would instantly become public property, their earnings, other investments, their houses, wives, children, lifestyles – all would be pored over, repeatedly. Really? They asked. Yes, really, because Sainsbury’s may be a supermarket chain but it is a British institution, a household name, and as such the media, politicians, and general population all believe they have a share in it. For a football club like Newcastle United with a garlanded past, with legendary players and trophies (and a chequered recent history), a stadium bang in the middle of the city centre and the vast Geordie diaspora, the effect is much bigger.

Then there are the away fans, who will take great delight, and already are, in poking fun. Social media is awash with memes and jokes, and we haven’t even got to the matchday chants.

Of course, there will be the expectation that buying Newcastle will lead to a softening of image. But the finger-pointing is not going to die down much, even if they’re victorious. Look at the Glazers – they’re loathed by Manchester United fans and while they’ve now got Ronaldo in their side that has not done much to assuage their critics. If the Glazer family was doing it for public relations purposes, they would not have purchased the club at all or would have got out a long time ago. They do it to make money.

The Saudis do not need the cash. Again, if they wished to make money there are other, more promising routes.

There is no doubt that being seen to possess a Premier League club, one with as substantial a following as Newcastle, does bring a sense of acceptance and community involvement to a nation that is generally regarded as closed and forbidding. But a spectacular act of philanthropy would have gained the same result – with some criticism, sure, but nothing like the week in, week out, name-calling and other abuse that will come with buying Newcastle.

Answer this question: if Dubai and Qatar were not club-owners would Saudi have bought Newcastle?

They’re doing it for one principal reason: to win and in doing so, beating their regional rivals. As an observer, it should be fun to watch. Woe betides the Newcastle manager whose team is thumped home and away by Manchester City or heavily defeated by PSG.

There can only be one winner, and no amount of funding can undo that.