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BG-014 Football · FIFA 2010

Temarii and Adamu — Two Votes for Sale, Caught on Tape

Body
FIFA
The Scheme
Soliciting cash for 2018/2022 World Cup votes
Amount
£500K–£1.5M sought
Status
Banned

Summary

In October 2010, two members of FIFA's 24-man executive committee — the body that was weeks from awarding the 2018 and 2022 World Cups — were caught on camera by undercover reporters from Britain's Sunday Times appearing to put their votes up for sale. Amos Adamu of Nigeria and Reynald Temarii of Tahiti, the president of the Oceania Football Confederation, met people they believed to be lobbyists for an American consortium trying to bring the tournament to the United States, and discussed money. FIFA's Ethics Committee acted with rare speed: on November 17–18, 2010, it banned Adamu from all football activity for three years and fined him 10,000 Swiss francs, and suspended Temarii for one year with a 5,000-franc fine. Both were barred from the December 2 vote in Zurich. The verdict was on the record before the ballot they had tried to monetise was even cast.

The two cases were not identical, and FIFA was careful to say so. Adamu was filmed asking for £500,000 — about 800,000 dollars — to be paid to him personally, ostensibly to build four artificial football pitches in Nigeria, in exchange for his support. Temarii, by contrast, was not found to have agreed to sell his vote; he asked for £1.5 million to fund a sports academy in Oceania, and was sanctioned for breaching FIFA's confidentiality and loyalty rules by discussing the bid contest with outsiders at all. One man was punished for appearing to trade his vote; the other for talking about the auction. Both punishments removed them from it.

The sting reshaped the vote it exposed. With Adamu and Temarii suspended, only 22 of the 24 executive committee members cast ballots on December 2, 2010 — the day FIFA awarded the 2018 World Cup to Russia and the 2022 tournament to Qatar, decisions that would themselves become the most scrutinised in the organisation's history. Temarii's story did not end with his one-year ban. In 2015 FIFA banned him for a further eight years after finding he had taken 305,640 euros from the disgraced Asian football boss Mohamed bin Hammam to fund his appeal against the original sanction — a man punished for selling his silence about the auction, financing his defence with money from another of its central figures.

Timeline

2010
The bidding race intensifies
Nine bids compete for the 2018 and 2022 World Cups; FIFA's 24-member executive committee holds the votes, making each ExCo member a target for lobbying.
September–October 2010
The sting is set
Sunday Times reporters pose as representatives of an American consortium seeking to bring a World Cup to the United States and approach FIFA officials, secretly recording the meetings.
October 17, 2010
The story breaks
The Sunday Times reports that Adamu and Temarii were filmed apparently willing to take money in connection with their World Cup votes.
October 20, 2010
Provisional suspension
FIFA provisionally suspends Adamu and Temarii pending an Ethics Committee investigation; Temarii's later one-year ban is backdated to this date.
November 15–18, 2010
The Ethics hearing
FIFA's Ethics Committee hears the cases against Adamu and Temarii in Zurich.
November 17–18, 2010
The verdicts
Adamu is banned three years and fined CHF 10,000; Temarii is suspended one year and fined CHF 5,000. Both are barred from the December 2 vote.
December 2, 2010
The reduced ballot
With Adamu and Temarii out, 22 of 24 ExCo members vote; FIFA awards the 2018 World Cup to Russia and the 2022 tournament to Qatar.
January 2011
The follow-on payment
Temarii accepts 305,640 euros from FIFA presidential figure Mohamed bin Hammam, ostensibly to fund his legal appeal.
2011
Adamu's appeal fails
The Court of Arbitration for Sport upholds Adamu's three-year ban.
May 13, 2015
Temarii banned again
FIFA bans Temarii for eight years for taking the bin Hammam money, finding multiple ethics-code breaches.
2023
The criminal coda
Temarii is among former officials charged in France in a long-running corruption inquiry linked to the World Cup bidding era.

The auction nobody admitted was open

The 2010 World Cup vote was the most valuable transaction in football, and everyone involved understood the geometry of it. Twenty-four men on FIFA's executive committee would decide, by secret ballot, which countries would host the 2018 and 2022 tournaments — events worth billions in television and commercial revenue, and incalculable prestige, to the winners. That concentrated an extraordinary amount of power in a small, lightly supervised group, and it made each member a destination for lobbying that ranged from the legitimate to the frankly transactional. The line between courting a vote and buying one was exactly where the Sunday Times went looking.

The reporters' cover was an American consortium hoping to land a World Cup, and lobbyists for such a bid would plausibly be flush with money and eager to spend it. Approaching ExCo members in that guise, the journalists recorded the conversations that followed. The resulting footage did not show envelopes changing hands; it showed something subtler and, for FIFA, more damaging — officials discussing what it would take to secure their support, in terms that mixed development projects with personal benefit. The sting worked because it did not need to manufacture corruption. It only needed to ask, and record the answers.

Adamu's recorded position was the more direct. He was filmed seeking £500,000 — roughly 800,000 dollars — to be paid to him personally, framed as funding for four artificial pitches in Nigeria, in return for his vote. The personal-payment element was the hinge: development money routed through a federation is one thing, money to an official's own control is another, and FIFA's Ethics Committee treated the distinction as decisive. Temarii's ask was larger in headline terms — £1.5 million for an Oceania sports academy — but directed at an institution rather than himself, and the committee did not find that he had agreed to sell his vote. The difference in the framing produced the difference in the verdicts.

The committee that beat the ballot

FIFA's Ethics Committee, an organisation not historically famous for haste, moved before its own showpiece vote. The provisional suspensions came on October 20, 2010, days after the story broke; the full hearings ran in mid-November; and the sanctions were handed down on November 17–18, with barely two weeks to spare before the December 2 ballot. The committee plainly understood that allowing two compromised men to vote on the World Cup, after they had been filmed discussing money, would taint the result beyond rescue. Speed here was self-preservation.

The sanctions tracked the evidence. Adamu drew the heavier penalty — a three-year ban from all football activity and a 10,000-franc fine — consistent with a finding that he had been willing to take money personally in connection with his vote. Temarii received a one-year suspension and a 5,000-franc fine, and crucially was not found to have traded his vote; his offence was breaching FIFA's confidentiality and loyalty rules by discussing the hosting contest with people he should not have. It was, in effect, a conviction for being indiscreet about the auction rather than for participating in it, and the lighter sentence reflected that.

The practical effect was identical regardless of the legal distinction: both men were removed from the December 2 ballot. The vote proceeded with 22 of 24 members, and FIFA awarded 2018 to Russia and 2022 to Qatar. The sting had not stopped the vote, but it had stripped two votes from it and, more lastingly, established before the fact that the body conducting the most important decision in football contained members who could be filmed putting their support in play. The verdict preceded the ballot it concerned, which is an unusual sequence in governance scandals and a damning one.

The appeal that became a second offence

For Adamu, the matter largely ended where it began: the Court of Arbitration for Sport upheld his three-year ban in 2011, and he served it. Temarii's case took a stranger turn, one that converted his original, comparatively minor offence into the lead-in to a far larger one. Determined to clear his name and reclaim his Oceania position, he set out to appeal the November 2010 suspension — and in January 2011 he accepted 305,640 euros from Mohamed bin Hammam, the Qatari head of the Asian Football Confederation, ostensibly to cover his legal costs.

Bin Hammam was not a neutral benefactor. He was a candidate for the FIFA presidency and a central figure in Qatar's orbit, and he would himself be banned by FIFA in 2011 and again in 2012. Taking a third of a million euros from such a man, while contesting a corruption-adjacent sanction, was the kind of judgment that an ethics process exists to catch. It did. On May 13, 2015, FIFA banned Temarii for eight years, finding he had breached multiple provisions of the ethics code by accepting the payment. The man originally punished for talking too freely about football's vote auction had financed his defence with money from one of the auction's most notorious players, and earned a sentence eight times longer than the first.

The episode closed the loop on what the 2010 sting had exposed. The vulnerability was never really about two officials; it was about a governance structure in which a handful of executive-committee members held disproportionate power, attracted disproportionate money, and operated with disproportionately little oversight. Adamu and Temarii were the two who got filmed. The system that made them targets carried on awarding the tournaments they had been caught discussing.

The Five Factors

01
Concentrated votes attract concentrated money
Twenty-four men decided where the World Cup would be played, and each became a magnet for lobbying that shaded into bribery. When a tiny group controls an asset worth billions, the surrounding pressure will always test the weakest members; the structure invites the offence.
02
The personal-payment line is the whole game
Adamu's downfall was seeking money for himself; Temarii's lighter offence was talking, not trading. Governance bodies that cannot police the difference between institutional development funds and an official's personal enrichment will find the second disguised as the first.
03
Journalism as the de facto regulator
It was undercover reporters, not FIFA's own controls, who caught the conduct. When an institution's integrity depends on outside stings to surface what its members will say behind closed doors, its internal oversight has effectively been outsourced to the press.
04
Speed as self-protection
FIFA sanctioned both men before the December 2 vote because letting them ballot would have been ruinous. The lesson cuts both ways: the body could move fast when its own legitimacy was at stake, which raises the question of why it moved so slowly on everything else.
05
The appeal that compounds the crime
Temarii's acceptance of bin Hammam's money to fight his ban turned a confidentiality breach into an eight-year corruption sanction. An ethics regime must watch how the accused finance their defence; tainted money used to contest a tainted ruling is simply the original problem, escalated.

Aftermath

Adamu served his three-year ban after CAS upheld it in 2011 and never returned to FIFA's top table. Temarii's career was effectively ended by the cumulative bans — one year in 2010, then eight years in 2015 — and his name resurfaced in 2023 among former officials charged in a long-running French criminal inquiry into corruption around the World Cup bidding era, a process that continues to work through the conduct of the period. Bin Hammam, the source of the money that doubled Temarii's exposure, was himself banned for life from football.

The sting's deepest mark was on the vote it bracketed. The awarding of 2018 to Russia and 2022 to Qatar on December 2, 2010, conducted with two suspended members watching from the sidelines, became the most investigated decision in football governance, feeding directly into the broader reckoning of 2015 and after. FIFA eventually abolished the small-committee model that had concentrated so much power in so few hands, moving World Cup host selection toward a vote of its full congress with published ballots — a reform aimed squarely at the structural flaw the Sunday Times had exposed. Two officials had been caught discussing the price of their votes; the lasting change was to the system that had given so few people something so valuable to sell.

Lessons

  1. Assume that any small body controlling a multibillion-dollar decision will be targeted by money, and build oversight proportional to the stakes rather than to the number of people involved.
  2. Draw and enforce a bright line between institutional development funding and personal payment; the disguise of the first as the second is the most common form of the offence.
  3. Do not rely on investigative journalism to do an integrity body's policing; if outside stings are catching what internal controls miss, the controls are the failure.
  4. Scrutinise how the accused fund their defence — money taken to appeal a corruption ruling can be a fresh corruption offence in its own right.
  5. Reform the structure, not just the individuals: removing two compromised members fixes a ballot, but only redistributing the power fixes the vulnerability.

References