When the buses stopped and the visiting journalists stepped out, they were directed toward a spot near Gate 32. There, in the shadow of the vast golden bowl of the $1 billion Lusail stadium, was an intricate mosaic stretching out and up along a long wall nearly 20 feet high. On it were passport-style photos of men, staring straight ahead.

The mural, a representative of Qatar’s organizing committee said, was a way for the country to pay homage to the army of men who had toiled for years under the scorching desert sun to build the cathedrals to the country’s World Cup ambitions.

But then the World Cup started, and the faces were gone.

Instead, the V.I.P.s and assorted high-rollers who will roll up in expensive cars and luxury vans underneath Gate 32 will only see a wall covered in World Cup logos and slogans. There is no trace of those men, who lived — and sometimes died — to turn a $200 billion nation-building project into reality.