Even the Nazis attempted to soften their image during the 1936 Berlin Olympics, aware of the scrutiny from international spectators. They removed antisemitic propaganda from public view and briefly lifted oppressive laws against homosexuality. In stark contrast, the upcoming 2026 men’s World Cup is being hosted by a nation that shows little regard for foreign perceptions. The United States under Donald Trump represents a unique departure from previous hosts, openly inviting global criticism and showcasing its darker aspects.
For instance, the decision to deny entry to Omar Abdulkadir Artan just days before the tournament reflects this attitude. Artan hails from Somalia, a country Trump has disparaged in the past, labeling its people as “We want to make sure we are not going to allow a soccer tournament to be the opportunity for terrorists to potentially get in the country,” and “Freedom of the press is very important to Fifa,” Andrew Giuliani, who leads the White House World Cup task force, stated, “is not a meaningful growth driver”
On one hand, it is astonishing to witness such overt cruelty that evokes sympathy for a referee from around the globe. Yet this incident is merely a part of the World Cup’s broader narrative of performative cruelty. The Iraqi vice-captain was detained upon arrival for seven hours, while thirteen members of the Iranian delegation remain stranded without visas, losing their allocated fan tickets. Reports indicate that 11 of the 48 competing nations, all from the Global South, are facing significant travel hurdles or elevated visa rejection rates.
What about FIFA, the organization that sanctioned Artan for the tournament while proclaiming last summer that “football unites the world”? Historically, FIFA has wielded its influence over host nations. In 2014, it threatened to revoke Curitiba’s hosting rights due to construction delays, and in 2018, it successfully urged Russia to ease its immigration laws for fans. FIFA even intervened to overturn a ban on journalist Hajo Seppelt, asserting that “freedom of the press is very important to FIFA,” a claim that has not aged well.
FIFA’s influence was significant because it dealt with countries eager to enhance their global image through hosting rights. Each men’s World Cup host since 2010 has needed FIFA more than the reverse. However, the United States may represent a unique case where this dynamic has flipped.
The U.S. does not require the financial boost from the tournament; its anticipated economic benefit is a mere fraction of 0.1% of GDP, which is not a substantial growth factor. In contrast, FIFA requires the revenue generated by the U.S. sports market to sustain its financial growth and power.
As the World Cup expands to 48 teams, the number of countries capable of hosting such an event diminishes rapidly. Essentially, FIFA’s dependence on the U.S. has altered its willingness to endure indignities. Will FIFA raise concerns if immigration enforcement occurs at stadiums? What if activists wish to protest near a venue?
FIFA’s worldview has been clearly articulated. By repeatedly stating that “football unites the world,” Gianni Infantino implicitly suggests that certain individuals are not part of that world, perhaps not even human. This extends to the imprisoned dissidents in Russia and the faceless migrant workers in Qatar, as well as those marginalized by the Trump administration, including Senegalese football fans and reporters seeking answers.
The only viable solution – a smaller, more modest World Cup that prioritizes accountability over autocratic influence – is likely off the table. Instead, the power imbalance highlighted by this World Cup may serve as a template for future sporting events. It is likely that Saudi Arabia in 2034 will take note of FIFA’s subservience and its lack of courage in confronting authoritarian power.
For years, FIFA has engaged in what Martin Müller termed “event seizure,” where major sporting events dominate host cities and alter local laws. However, the reverse appears to be happening now, with the U.S. exerting its influence over the World Cup, transforming this cherished global event into a reflection of its own political climate.
Perhaps the implications of this situation do not disturb you. If you view sports merely as an escape from politics, then enjoy a World Cup marred by heat and fatigue, fractured into four quarters, and undermined by an unjust qualification process. Relish the largely inconsequential group stages, the many empty seats, the visible police presence, and the prolonged camera shots of Infantino alongside JD Vance.
Infantino embodies the issue rather than being its root cause. Yet, considering his self-image as a global statesman, it is ironic that this summer will solidify his reputation as one of sports’ greatest cowards: a small and vindictive figure who relinquished control over his own tournament, trembling before real conviction. He held the world’s most powerful cultural force and ultimately surrendered it.
