On April 13, 2025, Bahrain hosted its 20th Formula 1 Grand Prix at the Bahrain International Circuit in Sakhir—an event once again promoted as a celebration of global sport and national pride. But for many human rights advocates, this milestone doesn’t represent progress. Instead, it marks two decades of sportswashing—the use of international events to polish a government’s image while serious abuses continue behind the scenes.
Ahead of the 2024 edition of the race, more than 20 human rights organizations—including Freedom House, BIRD, and ADHRB—signed a public letter to Formula 1 CEO Stefano Domenicali, urging the sport to finally reckon with its role in legitimizing repression. The message was clear: if F1 wants to claim it respects human rights, it can’t keep turning a blind eye. The letter described the race as a “distraction from repression” and called for the organization to engage directly with victims, apply proper due diligence, and stop lending legitimacy to an abusive regime.
While Bahrain’s leadership promotes the Grand Prix as a symbol of openness and modernity, the reality for many inside the country couldn’t be further from that image. Human rights groups continue to document arbitrary arrests, torture, and unfair trials, particularly targeting those who speak out against the government. As of early 2025, at least 26 people remain on death row, many of them sentenced for protesting or criticizing authorities. Among them are Mohammed Ramadhan and Husain Moosa, both convicted based on confessions allegedly extracted under torture.
One particularly serious case is that of Mohammed Isa Khatam, who was arrested at the age of 16. During his detention, he was forcibly disappeared, held in solitary confinement, tortured, and denied access to his lawyer and family. He was sentenced to one year in prison and fined 500 Bahraini dinars. He was released on March 20, 2025, under the alternative sentencing system, although he still faces multiple charges in other cases. His story is not an exception, but one of many that highlight how repression in Bahrain extends even to children.
Moreover,civil society hasn’t just been restricted—it’s been deliberately crushed. Independent organizations are tightly controlled: they’re forced to register with the state, seek approval for every activity, and operate under constant surveillance. Political groups have been banned outright, and the space for peaceful protest has been all but erased. Activists like Abduljalil Al-Singace and Abdulhadi Al-Khawaja are still behind bars, enduring long prison sentences, denied medical care, and reportedly subjected to degrading treatment. These aren’t just individual cases—they reflect a broader effort to silence critical voices and stamp out any form of dissent. International observers, including the United Nations, have called Bahrain out repeatedly—but the crackdown continues .
In 2014, Americans for Democracy & Human Rights in Bahrain (ADHRB) filed a formal complaint with the UK National Contact Point (NCP) under the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, accusing Formula One Management Ltd. and affiliated companies of contributing to ongoing human rights abuses in Bahrain. The complaint alleged that by going ahead with races during Bahrain’s violent crackdown on pro-democracy protests, the companies involved had—whether inadvertently or not—helped enable further violations and reinforced impunity. It also contended that Formula 1 failed to conduct meaningful human rights due diligence or take steps to mitigate the harm linked to its operations. The aim was to engage the organizers in a mediated dialogue that could protect both corporate interests and the rights of the Bahraini people.
Although Formula 1 eventually committed—publicly—to respect international human rights standards and to develop a due diligence policy, no meaningful steps were taken to implement that promise. More than a decade later, the races continue, but the safeguards do not.
Meanwhile, the race continues to grow. The world tunes in. The cameras capture the spectacle. The fireworks, the flags, the sponsorships—it all looks polished, even perfect. But just beyond the track, the reality is very different. Activists remain in prison. Families wait for justice that may never come. The Grand Prix has become more than a race. It’s a way to shift the spotlight away from what’s happening on the ground.
As Bahrain reaches 20 years of hosting Formula 1, that gap—between what’s shown and what’s silenced—feels especially stark. What the world sees is celebration. What many Bahrainis live is fear, loss, and frustration. Until Formula 1 is willing to take responsibility for where it races and who it partners with, it risks becoming part of the problem, not part of the solution.
