
EAST RUTHERFORD, NEW JERSEY - JULY 19: Rodri #16 of Spain lifts the FIFA World Cup Winner’s Trophy after the team’s victory following during the FIFA World Cup 2026 Final match between Spain and Argentina at New York New Jersey Stadium on July 19, 2026 in East Rutherford, New Jersey. (Photo by Hector Vivas - FIFA/FIFA via Getty Images)
FIFA via Getty Images
When FIFA president Gianni Infantino handed over the governing body’s inaugural “Peace Prize” to Donald Trump last December, it seemed to epitomise collective concerns about what this summer’s tournament would become.
In some respects, we were wrong; after all, once the kick-off whistle blew and the soccer began, pre-match diatribe dissipated as people across the world focused on the winners, the scorers and the stars.
Pre-tournament unease about ICE agents attending games, expensive tickets and empty seats faded into the background, and even the U.S. president himself disappeared from view; he didn’t attend any matches, nor did he make any public statements.
That was until Trump’s intervention in the Balogun red card case sounded a wake-up alarm to remind us that this was the 2026 edition of FIFA’s showcase men’s competition, which was always going to be, arguably, the most controversial in history.
But many of us said that about Qatar 2022, where human rights, unsold tickets and a belief among some that the small Gulf nation was an undeserving host dominated the tournament discourse and narrative.
Given the turbulence, complexity and sensitivity of our world, perhaps the tournament is now established as a proxy for expressing global anxieties.
This poses some interesting questions, as does the six-nation hosting of the next men’s World Cup, which may be contested by sixty-four teams, rather than forty-eight at this summer’s edition (or the thirty-two that appeared in Qatar and previous World Cups).
Will the 2030 centenary World Cup be less political than the 2026 edition?
From the U.S./Israel conflict with Iran, which led to immigration restrictions being placed on the latter’s national team, to a Somalian FIFA referee being denied entry to the U.S., it may seem difficult to imagine the 2030 tournament being anywhere near as controversial.
Yet the 2030 edition will take place across six countries: Argentina, Paraguay and Uruguay; and Morocco, Portugal and Spain, which will pose logistical challenges and create some troubling juxtapositions.
The 2026 final between Spain and Argentina was characterised as a “Palestine versus Israel” match; the current politics of Spain’s left-wing government standing in stark contrast to the right-wing politics of its counterpart in Buenos Aires.
And the early signs of a smooth 2030 tournament hosting are not promising; the South Americans have been accused of both brutal tactics on the field and racist abuse by fans off it.
Over in the West, trouble is already brewing; Morocco has been making bullish claims about hosting the 2030 final, even going so far as to build the world’s biggest football stadium, even though government officials in Madrid believe their city is the rightful destination for it.
Morocco has trouble along its borders, specifically with Algeria, with which it has a fractious relationship, though there are also ongoing disputes over Western Sahara and territorial claims to it.
Will Donald Trump’s influence on FIFA and the tournament continue?
In theory, Donald Trump will no longer be in office by 2030, though his influence may endure, not least in Morocco and Spain.
He has a close relationship with the King of Morocco; indeed, the U.S. administration has recently recognized Western Sahara as Moroccan territory, whilst the government in Rabat has cultivated increasingly strong relations with Israel.
Meantime, Trump has recently called Spain a “wasted cause” and a “terrible partner”, both for its perceived role in NATO and its vocal support for Palestine, issues that may ultimately undermine Madrid’s bid to stage the 2030 final, especially if Trump’s and Infantino’s bromance endures.
Adding a further dimension to Trump’s potential influence on the next tournament, his relationship with the right-wing conservative leaders of Argentina and Paraguay - Javier Milei and Santiago Peña respectively – means that we could see similar tactics being used to influence FIFA, sanction rivals, and sanitise the image and reputation of these countries.
Has the World Cup crossed a Rubicon?
Founded in 1904, FIFA’s original mission was to unify national football associations, standardize the laws of the game, and create a centralized international football championship.
When the first World Cup was staged in 1930, its purpose was to establish an independent, global football championship that allowed professional players to compete for a world title, bypassing the Olympic Games’ amateur-only restrictions.
However, since then, the World Cup appears to have morphed into something completely different, as this summer’s tournament became a convergence of big money, geopolitics and power.
The World Cup has been political in the past, for instance, in 1962, when Brazilian player Garrincha was sent off in the semi-final, prompting Chilean President Jorge Alessandri and Peruvian President Manuel Prado to strongly lobby FIFA on the player’s behalf.
Similarly, big money hasn’t been anathema to either the governing body or the tournament, with FIFA’s president, Joao Havelange, partnering in 1974 with Horst Dassler, the chief executive of Adidas, to transform the organisation commercially.
However, the 2026 edition has taken World Cup football into territory it hasn’t previously encountered, as the tournament became the embodiment of neoliberal ideology (dynamic ticket pricing illustrating this) and a geopolitical instrument (Trump’s Balogun intervention being a case in point).
The World Cup is no longer simply a football tournament; it has become a commercial behemoth, a Disneyfied entertainment product, and a nexus for countries and politicians seeking to accumulate and project power.
2030’s tournament will be no different.
In the past, when FIFA’s circus leaves town, most people seem to forget what all the fuss was about; after all, how many people spent this summer discussing migrant worker rights in Qatar (as many had done in 2022)?
But this summer’s tournament feels different; such was the profound nature of the issues often raised that, in 2030, one senses they will recur and intensify as our world becomes a more turbulent, complex and sensitive place.

17 hours ago
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