America’s message for the World Cup: Stay away

Why is America trying so hard to be a bad host? Because the Trump Administration has turned its back on the rest of the world

The anticipated viewership of the FIFA World Cup, 6 billion, is nearly three-quarters of the estimated population of the planet. It’s not an unreasonable expectation: Last time the tournament was held, 5 billion football fans viewed at least one of the games. The World Cup is one of very few cultural events shared across the whole earth: Even the biggest K-Pop act or the latest blockbuster movie doesn’t reach as far or arouse such passion. For a few weeks, people from Chennai to Khartoum shout their throats raw rooting for players from France, Ghana or Argentina. The rivalries are those of sport rather than politics, and we’re all invited to celebrate o jogo bonito (“the beautiful game”) together.

This year, not so much: The World Cup is being hosted primarily by the United States. America’s handling of the Cup is already a clear demonstration of the Trump Administration’s priorities, both on the international stage and at home.

A central principle of Trump 2.0 has been the brutal constriction of what types of people are considered “real” Americans, or even permitted to set foot in the country. For visitors, the rules have been made increasingly harsh. If you’ve ever made any social media posts expressing displeasure with the American president, you may not even make it into the arrival lounge. If you’re seeking political asylum, you’d better be a white Afrikaner pining for the days of apartheid. This door-closing has been applied with particular force to World Cup participants.

One of the referees, Omar Abdulkadir Artan, arrived in Miami with a diplomatic passport and a valid visa. He was sent back to Somalia: The US cited “vetting concerns”. It is highly unlikely that Artan was moonlighting as a terrorist: In 2025, he was the Confederation of African Football’s referee of the year. Iran’s football team is practicing in Tijuana, Mexico: While the US has agreed to admit the players, it has denied visas to at least 14 staff. Fans of four teams (Haiti, Iran, Senegal and Côte d’Ivoire) are not eligible even to apply for visas: Last year, the US imposed sweeping new entry restrictions on almost all visitors from dozens of countries.

Those fans who can make it to a game may find themselves rounded up and shipped into months-long detention. That’s true both for tourists and for US residents with a family tie to one of the competing teams. The Secretary of Homeland Security has vowed that immigration agents will “be out there every day”, at every World Cup game.

It’s not an empty threat: During Trump’s current term, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has arrested at least 167,000 people in the 11 cities hosting US World Cup games alone. The sweeps have focused on people from participating nations such as Mexico, Colombia and Haiti, whose fans (including US legal residents) might be eager to cheer them on. At least 20 other nations playing the tournament are on the list of countries whose citizens are now presumptively unwelcome in America.

This isn’t just a matter of football fans having to miss the event of their lives: ICE detention can be a multi-month Kafkaesque prison sentence. The people warehoused in these massive camps are in no way the “worst of the worst” advertised by the administration: Only 5 per cent of them have any history of violent acts, and 73 per cent of them have never been convicted of any crime whatsoever. Detainees have few legal rights, and life in detention is miserable. By the agency’s own admission, at least 46 people died in custody during the first 15 months of the current Trump Administration; others, most famously Renée Good and Alex Pretti (both US citizens) were publicly killed by ICE or Customs and Border Protection agents before even getting to a detention center.

Why is America trying so hard to be a bad host? Because the Trump Administration has turned its back on the rest of the world. At the level of policy, it insults and scorns America’s friends and allies alike. At the level of individuals, it tries to deport or strip citizenship from those who lack the correct “heritage” — a designation which overlaps all too neatly with people whose ancestry is traceable to places that Trump calls “sh*t-hole countries”.

FIFA is one of the world’s most famously corrupt organisations, so it’s no surprise that its head is so chummy with Trump. Last year, Gianni Infantino created a “FIFA Peace Prize” specifically for him: A massive gilded trophy, with a golden medal suitable for wearing “everywhere you want to go”. Perhaps Infantino believed the gift would buy the World Cup an exemption from Trump’s anti-immigrant crackdown. If so, he badly miscalculated: Trump’s personal venality is deep, but his administration’s hatred of the world beyond America’s borders is deeper still.

On July 19, a new champion will lift the World Cup. Most of the pre-tournament favorites are from nations that have stood up to recent American adventurism — Spain, Brazil, France, just about every potential victor has had a run-in with Trump. And the US men’s team is unlikely to get anywhere near the final. Billions of football fans across the world will have the last laugh.

Blank is author of Arrow of the Blue-Skinned God: Retracing the Ramayana Through India and Mullahs on the Mainframe: Islam and Modernity Among the Daudi Bohras