A New Low for the Beautiful Game
The 2026 World Cup is shaping up to be a unprecedented merger of sport and politics. Co‑hosted by the United States, Mexico and Canada, the tournament is being framed not only as a celebration of football but also as a stage for Donald Trump’s brand of spectacle and FIFA president Gianni Infantino’s willingness to indulge it. In the eyes of many observers, this combination represents a clear distillation of Trump’s approach to sportswashing and FIFA’s accelerating degradation.
Historically, mega‑events have been used to launder reputations, from ancient Roman triumphs to the recent editions in Russia, Qatar and now North America. Professor and author Jules Boykoff, whose book Red Card chronicles the entanglement of sport, politics and authoritarianism, argues that the 2026 tournament marks a new mutation: one that centres on outright financial corruption rather than any attempt to craft a positive narrative.
The repressive context surrounding the event is already evident. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement is slated to play a key role in tournament security, while travel bans and restrictive border policies threaten to keep fans – and even competing teams – from entering the country. Iran, a qualified participant, has voiced concerns about the safety of its squad, and the United States’ belligerent foreign posture adds further tension.
Financially, FIFA hopes to extract a staggering $11 billion from the tournament, pushing ticket prices to record levels and inserting mandatory “hydration breaks” that double as commercial interludes. This profit‑first model underscores the corporate bastardization the article’s author warns against.
Resistance is being called for. Activists and scholars stress that the only way to reclaim the World Cup from its current trajectory is through earlier, angrier and more organized action. The fight must target not just the corporate structures that profit from the event, but also the political figures who use it to amplify their own power.