WNBA Players Association President Signs with Saudi-Backed Rival League: Player Unity Shattered Amid Crisis of Greed, Conflict of Interest, and the Threat of Sports Washing
The WNBA is enjoying a historic, watershed moment. Propelled by generational talents like Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese, the league is setting records for attendance, viewership, and media buzz, finally achieving the mainstream breakthrough players have fought for decades. This momentum was supposed to secure the league’s future, translating into monumental salary increases and long-term stability in the upcoming Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA) negotiations.

Instead, the league’s breakthrough is now facing a profound, self-inflicted crisis of unity, ethical conflict, and existential threat, all ignited by the very people meant to be protecting its future.

The sports world was blindsided by the news that Neeka Quwaik, the sitting President of the WNBA Players Association (WNBPA), had become the first player to sign with “Project B,” a new, European and Asian-based basketball league. But this wasn’t just another offseason gig. Project B is explicitly designed to “rival the WNBA,” and it is bankrolled by an entity with near-limitless resources: Saudi Arabian money.

Quwaik’s decision, announced right in the middle of the most crucial contract negotiations in WNBA history, has sent shockwaves, creating an unprecedented conflict of interest that threatens to splinter the sport and doom the athletes who need the WNBA the most. The collective good is now battling individual gain, and the collective is rapidly losing ground.

A Betrayal at the Negotiation Table
The role of the WNBPA President is clear: to maintain solidarity and use the collective leverage of the players to secure the best possible contract for everyone in the league. However, Quwaik’s signing fundamentally undercuts this mission.

By securing a lucrative, long-term deal with a direct competitor—a league that promises to outspend the WNBA on compensation and even offers players equity stakes—Quwaik has essentially secured her own personal payday regardless of whether the WNBA negotiations succeed or fail. She has neutralized her own incentive to fight tooth and nail for the WNBA’s sustainability.

This move immediately weakens the WNBPA’s negotiating position. If the players’ lead representative has already accepted an exit ramp, WNBA owners can—and likely will—perceive the threat of a player holdout or a lockout as significantly less concerning. The message from the players’ side is no longer unified; it is fragmented, selfish, and compromised.

Quwaik is not alone in this ethical gray area. The core issue in the CBA negotiations revolves around the WNBA’s desire to restrict players from participating in other offseason leagues, such as those overseas, which cause fatigue and injury. Yet, several other WNBA superstars—including Brianna Stewart, Nneka Collier, and Kelsey Plum—have co-founded or invested heavily in “Unrivaled,” a domestic offseason league. Simultaneously, players like Elizabeth Williams, Bana Turner, and Aja Wilson have stakes in “Athletes Unlimited.”

When WNBA owners propose a deal that includes higher salaries and better revenue shares—but demands players cease participation in offseason leagues—the response from the negotiation table is complicated by a crippling conflict of interest. Accepting the WNBA’s terms would mean walking away from lucrative ownership stakes and personal equity deals in rival organizations. Players who are supposed to be negotiating for the collective future of the WNBA are simultaneously trying to protect their competing, individual financial portfolios.

It is a textbook case of the Prisoner’s Dilemma—a situation where individuals, acting purely in self-interest, end up creating the worst possible outcome for the entire group.

Project B: Not a Partnership, But a Poison Pill
Project B is not marketed as a complementary league; its very existence is a deliberate challenge. Backed by the immense wealth of the Saudi Arabian government, Project B operates under a fundamentally different economic model than the WNBA.

As evidenced by the LIV Golf versus PGA Tour saga, the Saudi-backed model is not concerned with organic growth, fan engagement, or profitability. While the PGA Tour often commanded ten times the viewership of LIV Golf, the LIV players were making exponentially more money. Why? Because the goal is not to sell tickets or secure advertising revenue; the goal is sports washing—the use of globally beloved athletics to polish the global image of a regime with a deeply problematic human rights record.

In the case of women’s basketball, the ethical conundrum is particularly glaring. Project B is using the language of women’s empowerment—offering unprecedented pay and equity—as a public relations shield, even as women within Saudi Arabia face systemic legal and social oppression. Every player who signs with Project B will inevitably face intense scrutiny over this ethical compromise: How do you justify taking money from a government that restricts the very rights you claim to champion?

Furthermore, Project B is a closed ecosystem. It only targets the top 66 players in the world, creating a distinct, gilded cage for the elite. This selective targeting is a poison pill for the WNBA’s recent momentum. The sport’s breakthrough was driven by a rise in the casual fan—viewers who don’t want to track four different competing leagues (WNBA, Unrivaled, Athletes Unlimited, Project B). Splintering the sport across multiple organizations will inevitably dilute the quality, attention, and marketability of the WNBA, causing the casual audience to simply disappear.

The Victims: Hardship Contracts and the Middle Tier
While the superstars are busy securing their second and third income streams with lucrative off-season leagues, the vast majority of WNBA players—the hardship contract players and the middle-tier athletes—have no such safety net.

These are the players who get called up for a few games, who are fighting just to secure a roster spot, and whose entire income and professional dream are tied directly to the stability of the WNBA.

If the CBA negotiations collapse due to the conflicting interests of the league’s elite, and the 2025 WNBA season is delayed or, worse, locked out, these middle-tier players have nowhere to go. Project B is not interested in them. Unrivaled and Athletes Unlimited will not absorb all the suddenly unemployed talent. Their professional careers—and their livelihoods—will be sacrificed on the altar of the elite players’ self-interest.

This is the heartbreaking paradox: the WNBPA, led by players with financial security outside the league, is fighting for an outcome—the right to play off-season—that benefits their equity deals, but risks destroying the sole economic engine for the vast majority of their constituency.

The Path Forward: Choosing Legacy Over Ledger
The WNBA is currently standing at the precipice of a full-scale fracturing, reminiscent of the chaos that once plagued the sport of boxing, or the recent financial split in golf. The breakthrough moment that should have secured the league’s future is instead threatening to become the catalyst for its fragmentation.

For the WNBA to survive this crisis and capitalize on the massive momentum gifted by the recent influx of star power, a major shift in philosophy is required.

Reclaiming Unity: The WNBPA must immediately address the crushing conflict of interest. The players at the negotiating table must prioritize a deal that benefits the entire league over their individual equity stakes.

Protecting the Core: The WNBA must be recognized by its own stars as the essential, long-term foundation of the sport. The Saudi-backed league offers short-term cash for a potentially devastating long-term cost to the league’s legacy and competitive integrity.

Transparency and Accountability: The WNBPA leadership must publicly justify how their personal financial decisions align with the collective good, or risk being replaced by representatives whose sole focus is the WNBA’s longevity.

Caitlin Clark, Angel Reese, and other rising stars have given the WNBA the visibility it needs to thrive. Now, the league’s veterans and leadership must choose: will they use this moment to build a sustainable, equitable league for all, or will they allow individual self-interest and the allure of foreign cash to scatter the stars and doom the WNBA to irrelevance? The future of women’s professional basketball hangs in the balance, and the clock is ticking.