With just five months until the first whistle blows, the 2026 FIFA World Cup is already shaping up to be one of the most politically charged sporting events in recent memory. Co-hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico, the tournament finds itself at the centre of a world riven by conflict, protest, and profound ethical questions.
A Tournament Born into Tension
The political backdrop is impossible to ignore. One of the host nations, the US, is a focal point due to its heightened immigration enforcement and visa restrictions, raising concerns for travelling fans. Among the qualifying teams, Iran is experiencing significant internal upheaval, while other nations like Tunisia and Ecuador face their own crises of democracy and ecology. Furthermore, the awarding of the 2034 World Cup to Saudi Arabia casts a long shadow over FIFA's future commitments.
FIFA President Gianni Infantino has billed the event as "the greatest show ever on planet Earth." Yet for many, it threatens to serve as a stark reminder of a deeply troubled global landscape in 2026, potentially becoming an event remembered for controversy as much as for football.
A History of Political Football
This is not the first World Cup to be mired in ethical debate. The 1978 tournament in Argentina was held under a military dictatorship that had seized power two years earlier. This prompted Amnesty International's first major campaign focused on a sporting event, under the slogan "Fussball ja – Folter nein" (Football yes – torture no).
"It wasn't a push to boycott the World Cup," explains Steve Cockburn, Amnesty’s head of sports and human rights. "It was a push to raise the issues with some very specific demands." The campaign sought access to prisons and transparency over the disappeared, while urging other nations to increase diplomatic pressure on Argentina.
However, as Cockburn notes, the campaign did not directly challenge FIFA's responsibilities—a stance that has evolved dramatically in recent decades. The pivotal shift came after the contentious awards of the 2018 and 2022 World Cups to Russia and Qatar, which were accompanied by allegations of corruption and human rights neglect. This period led to FIFA formally adopting the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights in 2016.
Neutrality vs. Responsibility: FIFA's Dilemma
Despite this, FIFA's official statutes insist the organisation "remains neutral in matters of politics and religion." This claimed neutrality is increasingly criticised as nations with questionable human rights records are awarded sport's biggest prizes. Campaigns related to Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and calls to suspend Israel have largely failed to alter FIFA's course.
Nick McGeehan, co-director of FairSquare, argues that this stance is unrealistic. "Football will always have very significant social, cultural, political and economic significance," he says. "So rather than repeating the nonsense about keeping sport and politics separate we need to recognise its power and look to use that power appropriately."
The most significant recent political intervention—the ban on Russia from international football after its invasion of Ukraine—was justified by FIFA on sporting, not political, grounds. It cited the threat of boycotts by European teams that endangered the "smooth running" of its competitions.
A Lesson in Pessimism?
Dr Antoine Duval, a researcher at the Asser International Sports Law Centre, offers a sobering assessment of the last 15 years of sport's engagement with human rights. "I would say this entire sequence has been rather a lesson in pessimism," he states. He points out that China, Russia, and Qatar did not undergo the democratic or social reforms many hoped their mega-events would catalyse.
Duval understands the need for governing bodies to ground decisions in their rulebooks to avoid accusations of double standards. He suggests a potential system where bodies like FIFA act as "arbiters of compliance" with international law, following rulings from bodies like the International Court of Justice. However, he cautions that such reform is fraught with difficulty.
Instead, Duval proposes a more modest but achievable goal: ensuring these global events become temporary zones of heightened rights and non-discrimination. "Consider it not only a circus... but also that those events are moments where we ensure radical non-discrimination," he says. This symbolic power, while limited, could at least inspire hope.
As fans ponder whether to travel to the 2026 World Cup, a sense of disconnect persists. "It feels like people want sport to be this beautiful escape from everything else but it's just as affected by power struggles and human failings as any other industry," concludes Cockburn. "There's a mismatch between what you're seeing and what's happening around it... to me it's jarring." The beautiful game, it seems, must once again navigate an increasingly ugly world.
