Is US the right ground for the World Cup?A reflection on football, borders, and global equity

By Muhammed Jallow

The FIFA World Cup has never been merely a football tournament. It is humanity’s greatest sporting pilgrimage, a celebration that transcends language, race, religion, and political ideology. For one month, the world gathers around a single ball, united by dreams, passion, and the irresistible magic of the beautiful game. It is a spectacle built upon the principles of inclusion, diversity, and the universal right to participate. Yet, as the 2026 Fifa World Cup unfolds across the United States, Canada, and Mexico, an uncomfortable and increasingly unavoidable question emerges. Is the United States, under its current political and immigration climate, the ideal host for an event that belongs to the entire world?

This question is not a critique of the American people, nor is it a denial of the country’s remarkable infrastructure, technological sophistication, or its capacity to stage a tournament of unprecedented scale. The United States undoubtedly possesses world class stadiums, transportation networks, broadcasting capabilities, and commercial resources. In many respects, it can host the largest sporting events with unmatched efficiency.

However, the essence of the World Cup is not measured by the grandeur of stadiums or the profitability of sponsorship deals. It is measured by accessibility, inclusivity, and the ease with which fans, players, journalists, and officials from every corner of the globe can converge without fear, uncertainty, or unnecessary barriers. It is here that the American model raises serious concerns.

The current immigration and border control framework of the United States is among the most rigorous in the world. While every sovereign nation has the legitimate right to protect its borders and ensure national security, the challenge lies in balancing those concerns with the global spirit of a tournament that invites participation from over two hundred nations through qualification campaigns and millions of supporters through travel.

For many Africans, Asians, and citizens of developing countries, obtaining a United States visa remains a difficult, expensive, and often uncertain process. Applicants may travel hundreds of kilometres to embassies or consulates, endure lengthy waiting periods, provide extensive documentation, and still face the possibility of rejection without detailed explanation. In some countries, appointment slots are scarce, and visa processing times extend well beyond practical timelines for sporting travel.

The consequence is obvious. A World Cup that should unite humanity risks becoming a tournament more accessible to wealthy nations than to ordinary supporters from the Global South.

Consider the football fan from Senegal, Ghana, Nigeria, Morocco, or Ivory Coast. Consider the devoted supporter from Bangladesh, Indonesia, Nepal, or Pakistan. Consider the countless football lovers across Latin America and the Caribbean. For many of them, the barriers are not simply financial. They are administrative, procedural, and psychological. The journey to support their national team becomes entangled in concerns about visa interviews, immigration checks, documentation requirements, and fears of being denied entry despite substantial personal sacrifice.

This is not the ideal image of a World Cup. Football should open doors rather than reinforce borders.

West Africa provides an especially compelling lens through which to examine this challenge. Football is woven into the cultural fabric of the region. Streets come alive during international tournaments. Communities gather around television sets and public screens. National teams become symbols of unity and collective aspiration. When nations such as Senegal or Ghana take the field, they carry not only the hopes of their citizens but also the pride of a continent that has historically had to overcome structural inequalities within global sport.

Yet, for West African fans hoping to travel to the United States, the experience is often overshadowed by uncertainty. The cost of airfare alone can be prohibitive. Added to this are visa fees, travel documentation, accommodation expenses, insurance requirements, and the possibility of additional immigration scrutiny upon arrival. Families may save for years to witness a once in a lifetime event, only to discover that entry into the host nation is not guaranteed.

Ironically, the very fans whose energy and colour define the atmosphere of the World Cup could become its greatest absentees.

One cannot ignore the broader context in which this tournament is taking place. Immigration has become one of the defining political issues in the United States. Debates surrounding border enforcement, deportation policies, asylum procedures, and restrictions on certain categories of foreign nationals have shaped public discourse. These are internal sovereign matters, but when the country hosts a global festival like the World Cup, domestic policy inevitably intersects with international expectation.

Fifa frequently proclaims that football belongs to everyone. Its slogans celebrate equality, inclusion, and anti-discrimination. Yet these principles are tested when supporters from certain regions perceive that they face disproportionate obstacles to participation. The World Cup should not inadvertently mirror global inequalities. Rather, it should challenge and transcend them.

Security concerns present another layer of complexity. The United States is a nation with an extensive and sophisticated security architecture. Following decades of evolving global threats, authorities have understandably developed stringent procedures to safeguard the public. Massive sporting events naturally require extraordinary vigilance.

However, heightened security can also generate unintended consequences. Increased surveillance, strict airport screening, and robust law enforcement presence may create an atmosphere of anxiety for some international visitors, particularly those unfamiliar with American systems or those who fear being profiled because of nationality or appearance. While security is indispensable, it should not diminish the welcoming spirit that defines a truly global event.

The issue becomes even more nuanced when examining the experience of smaller nations such as The Gambia. Gambians are among the world’s most passionate football followers. The country’s young population embraces sport not merely as entertainment but as a source of national identity and hope. Yet The Gambia itself is absent from the competition because it did not secure qualification.

Curiously, while Gambian football officials associated with the Gambia Football Federation may attend the tournament through official channels, ordinary Gambian supporters are confronted with the same visa and travel barriers faced by many across Africa. This contrast is symbolic. Institutional representatives can cross borders through accredited pathways, while the everyday fan, whose emotional investment gives football its meaning, may be left watching from afar.

There is no suggestion that officials should not attend. Their presence contributes to the administration and future development of the game. Yet it raises an important philosophical question. If football exists for people, shouldn’t the ordinary supporters enjoy the same opportunity to participate in the celebration?

The debate also touches on a larger issue concerning the governance of international sport. In recent decades, major sporting events have increasingly gravitated toward nations with substantial economic power and commercial influence. Hosting rights are often justified through promises of infrastructure, revenue generation, and global media reach. While these factors are important, they should not eclipse accessibility and fairness.

The World Cup is not a corporate exhibition. It is a cultural institution. The voices of fans from Banjul, Dakar, Accra, Dhaka, and Jakarta matter just as much as those from New York, London, or Berlin. Their chants, flags, songs, and traditions enrich the tournament and remind the world that football’s heartbeat lies not in boardrooms but in communities.

Some may argue that these concerns are overstated because the 2026 tournament is jointly hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico. Indeed, the inclusion of three nations offers greater geographic flexibility and potentially broadens access. Canada and Mexico have historically presented different immigration environments, and some fans may find entry into those countries more manageable.

Yet the reality remains that a substantial portion of matches, including many of the tournament’s most significant fixtures, will be staged in the United States. Fans may need to cross internal tournament borders multiple times, navigating differing visa requirements and immigration systems. This complexity adds another layer of logistical difficulty for international visitors, especially those travelling on limited budgets.

It is worth remembering that the World Cup has often been celebrated in countries where accessibility formed part of the tournament’s appeal. In South Africa in 2010, the event represented an African renaissance, bringing the world to a continent long underrepresented in global sport. In Qatar in 2022, despite controversies surrounding labour rights and governance, the compact nature of the tournament allowed supporters to attend multiple matches with relative ease once inside the country. Every host nation has its strengths and shortcomings, but the benchmark should always be the extent to which football remains open to the world.

The United States has an extraordinary opportunity to demonstrate that security and openness are not mutually exclusive. Streamlined visa procedures for accredited fans, temporary World Cup travel arrangements, increased consular staffing, and collaborative agreements with participating nations could significantly reduce barriers. Such measures would not weaken national security. Rather, they would reinforce the message that sport can build bridges where politics often erects walls.

Fifa, too, must accept responsibility. Awarding hosting rights should involve a more comprehensive assessment of accessibility. Stadium quality and commercial capacity are important, but so too are visa policies, travel affordability, and the ease with which supporters from developing countries can attend. The world’s biggest sporting event should not become exclusive by circumstance.

Ultimately, this discussion is not about whether America is a capable host. It unquestionably is. Nor is it about questioning a nation’s sovereign right to regulate its borders. Every country has that right. The issue is whether the current environment aligns with the values that the Fifa World Cup claims to represent.

Football’s enduring power lies in its ability to erase divisions, if only for ninety minutes. A child kicking a ball on the beaches of Bakau, a farmer listening to commentary on a radio in rural Senegal, a student in Seoul, or a factory worker in São Paulo all share the same dream when the World Cup arrives. They do not see passports, visa categories, or immigration codes. They see possibilities.

If the World Cup is truly the world’s tournament, then the world must be able to reach it.

As millions watch the games from their homes, countless supporters across Africa, Asia, and other parts of the developing world may wonder whether the greatest festival in sport has become just a little too distant. They will celebrate the goals, admire the stars, and carry their nations in their hearts. Yet many will know that the barriers preventing them from being there were not created by football, but by politics, policy, and the invisible lines that divide humanity.

Perhaps that is the greatest challenge facing the modern World Cup. It is not about who lifts the trophy. It is about ensuring that the tournament itself remains faithful to its highest ideal, that the beautiful game belongs equally to all people, regardless of where they come from or what passport they hold.

Only when the gates of the World Cup are as open as the spirit of football itself can we truly say that the host nation, whoever it may be, has honoured the game and the global family it represents.