The following article represents the views of the author, not those of the Next Century Foundation:
With 48 countries competing, for the first time ever, across three host nations (the United States, Canada, and Mexico), FIFA’s biggest World Cup is underway. According to the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), “football unites the world”. Yet, for many, the planet’s most significant sporting event has conveyed an entirely different message this year. In America, the usual “buzz” that a World Cup invariably generates has been eclipsed by travel restrictions, trepidation, and political incursion.
America’s soft power own goal
Hosting the World Cup is one of the most effective ways a nation can project its soft power, in other words, its ability to shape how it is perceived by the rest of the world through the appeal of its culture, values, and conduct on the international stage. The World Cup also yields significant economic advantages, including a boost in international investment and an influx of tourists. Over 1.4 million visitors travelled to Qatar in 2022, while Germany’s 2006 edition left behind not only billions in tourism receipts but a measurably improved international reputation sustained far beyond the final whistle. After eighteen months of polarising policies under Donald Trump’s administration, few nations stand to gain more from a successful World Cup than the US, a country with considerable diplomatic ground to recover.
Yet, the US government has left the most open of open goals unconverted. Rejecting the World Cup’s core value of international inclusivity and cultural exchange, it has effectively turned it into a closed-door affair, access to which is determined by nationality rather than a love of the game. Earlier this year, President Trump’s administration enacted a travel ban, under which 39 countries are either partially or fully barred from entering the US. Of those countries, four are competing in the tournament – Haiti and Iran are subject to full bans, while Ivory Coast and Senegal are partially restricted. According to the administration, this aims to “ensure that individuals approved for a visa do not endanger national security or public safety”, but kicking off an international tournament by restricting access to competing nations sets a troubling precedent.
Even among the co-hosts, recent relations have been less than amicable. The hope of a North American partnership has been undermined by the US’s tense bilateral relations with both Canada and Mexico. Since the three countries were announced as the 2026 World Cup hosts back in 2018, political dynamics have deteriorated, not least because of the 25% tariffs imposed by President Trump on some Canadian and Mexican goods in early 2025. Of course many exports to the US from Canada and Mexico are exempt (such as much agricultural produce) and the US has since in any case reduced these tariffs to 10% but the signal sent out by the administration was none the less hostile. Commenting (before they were reduced) on the impact that these tariffs might have on the tournament, the President declared that “tension’s a good thing” as it “makes it [the games] more exciting”. Perhaps the suspense of a penalty shootout in a semi-final has this effect. The tension of a trade war, one suspects, does not.
Qualification doesn’t guarantee entry
No side has faced greater barriers to entry this summer than Iran’s. Team members were approved visas just a week before the tournament began, while visa arrangements for other competing nations were settled months in advance. Still, over a dozen support staff were turned away, including Mehdi Taj, the president of the Iranian football federation. When asked why, White House Task Force director Andrew Giuliani responded vaguely that he had “seen some derogatory information on them”.
The troubles did not end there. Due to the tournament’s structure, Iran must play all four group games in the US. Despite this, the team was forced to relocate to Mexico after being banned from staying in the US overnight. President Trump said “I don’t believe it is appropriate that they be there”. As a result, the players have had to travel into the US to play their first two matches, before immediately flying back to Mexico once the game ended. On Tuesday, the US eased the restriction, allowing the players to travel two days prior to their final group game against Egypt. Beyond the logistical challenges this has posed, the arrangement indicates that Iran’s participation has been tolerated rather than welcomed. Iran, the self proclaimed “most oppressed team in the World Cup”, accused the US of “politically biased interference in sport”, with one player even stating that “you can feel it [the tension] in the atmosphere”. Given the hostility they’ve been met with hitherto, these comments reflect an understandable frustration.
Others also experienced trouble upon arrival. Omar Artan, a referee from Somalia, named Africa’s best referee in 2025 and the first Somali referee selected for a World Cup, was denied entry after landing at the Miami International Airport on Saturday June 6. According to US Customs and Border Protection, he was “determined to be inadmissible due to vetting concerns and was denied entry”. Aymen Hussein, a striker from Iraq, was held for 7 hours at Chicago O’Hare international airport for questioning and a phone inspection. Eventually, authorities let him through, but a photographer for the team was not so fortunate. He was also barred entry due to apparent “vetting concerns”. These incidents highlight a system in which the onus does not lie on the state to explain its exclusion of participants, but rather on the otherwise qualified individual to justify their inclusion.
What about the fans?
Fans also suffered. Over 40 members of Moroccan football team supporter associations were denied visas to attend the tournament, despite having bought tickets to the games and booked hotels. Additionally, 147 out of 150 visa applications from Ghanaian fans were denied. The US government’s rejection of certain nationals and acceptance of others sends a clear message heard far beyond the tournament itself – in America, the welcome is conditional. This attitude has shaped the foreign policy of the Trump administration over the last eighteen months. Only now, under the spotlight of the World Cup, has it truly caught the world’s attention.
Fear, not excitement, has been the preeminent emotion expressed by many fans planning to attend matches in the States this summer. The 2026 World Cup marks a historic milestone for African football, with ten nations from the continent featured in the competition. Unfortunately, this unprecedented milestone is clouded by the fear of a hostile environment upon arrival. Despite having visas, many fans from African nations have decided to bypass the US, heading for Canada and Mexico instead, in order to avoid having to “explain [themselves] for three hours and then somebody says, can I see your phone?” To learn that the US government’s inhospitality has deterred so many to the point of self-censorship is to acknowledge its extensive disruption of this year’s tournament, impacting players, staff, and fans alike.
FIFA’s stance
Last year, FIFA president Gianni Infantino repudiated “misconceptions” about the 2026 World Cup, asserting that “everyone will be welcome in Canada, Mexico, and the United States”. However, what followed has rendered his assurance untenable. When referee Omar Artan was denied entry, FIFA’s response was to wash its hands of the matter entirely, declaring that “a host government ultimately determines who receives a visa and who is admitted into their country”. Infantino, for his part, called the situation “unfortunate” and advised the world to “just chill, relax”. This was not an isolated lapse. In 2018, at a press conference in Tehran, Infantino declared that “politics should stay out of football and football should stay out of politics”. In defiance of his own convictions, FIFA’s president proceeded to award Donald Trump with the first ever “FIFA peace prize”, bestowed upon, in Infantino’s words “a distinguished individual who exemplifies an unwavering commitment to advancing peace and unity throughout the world”.
The power of the people
Yet, regardless of the turbulence, football has once again found a way to unite the world. Amid the government’s exclusionary posture and FIFA’s spineless compliance, the warm reception demonstrated by the American people to their guests conveys an entirely different message. From unlikely Scottish-American friendships forged over an impressive depletion of Boston’s beer supply, to Germans sampling authentic American barbecue on the house, to wishes that the World Cup could return to the US every year, countless instances of wholesome bonding between fans from every corner of the globe have flooded social media. This serves as a reminder that the spirit of the tournament has never resided in the offices of those who administer it, but in the stands, the streets, and the bars of the cities that host it.
The World Cup, in this regard, is a microcosm of a reality that transcends football. The America visible in the streets of its sixteen hosting cities this summer is not the America that has been projected to the world from Washington over the last eighteen months. In other words, the huge (soft) power of Brand America has never resided primarily in the hands of those who govern it, but by the people who have built it and, against the odds, are trying hard to sustain it.
Image above by Joshua Woroniecki from Pixabay
