FIFA And The Colonialist Geopolitics Of Football

An analysis of FIFA's soft power. In 2022, it expelled Russia from the World Cup. But it never penalized the USA and Israel. And it even allowed Trump's intimidation tactics against the Iranian national team. Cases reveal: the narrative of sporting autonomy only holds true when it comes to defending Western allies.

By Emanuel Leite Junior

Published on June 1, 2026 — Outras Palavras 

The 2026 FIFA World Cup will solidify the United States as the political, economic, and symbolic epicenter of global football. Although the tournament is formally divided between the USA, Canada, and Mexico, the Americans will concentrate the heart of the competition: six of the eight Round of 16 matches will be played on US soil, and from the quarterfinals onwards, all matches (including the semifinals and final) will take place exclusively in the USA. In other words, the country not only escaped any kind of international sanction despite its recent history of wars, targeted assassinations, economic blockades, and attacks against other sovereign states, but was also rewarded with absolute protagonism in the biggest sporting event on the planet. The contradiction becomes even more evident when compared to the speed with which Russia was suspended by FIFA and UEFA in 2022, being excluded from the qualifiers and the international football system in record time.

While Moscow has been transformed into a sporting pariah, the US and Israel remain without any significant punishment, even in the face of accusations of genocide against the Palestinian people and successive denunciations of war crimes. This double standard reveals that the so-called "neutrality" of world football is not neutral: it operates according to the hierarchies of global power, political hegemony, and the interests of contemporary imperialism.

The suspension of Russia by FIFA and UEFA in 2022 was treated by the Western sporting establishment as an inevitable moral response to the war in Ukraine. Within days, Russian clubs were excluded from international competitions, the national team was left out of the 2022 World Cup qualifiers and, subsequently, also out of the competition for places in the 2026 FIFA World Cup. The day after FIFA's decision, in an interview with Radio BandNews FM in Brazil, I stated that the measure was historic precisely because it had no precedent in contemporary world football and that, at that moment, it already seemed improbable to me that a sanction of such magnitude would be applied against countries aligned with Western hegemony. The development of international events since then, especially the absence of any punishment for Israel and the prominence of the United States as host of the 2026 World Cup, has only reinforced this initial perception.

However, the swift punishment of Russia raises an unavoidable question: why is the same rigor not applied to the United States and Israel? How can it be explained that the US, under the leadership of Donald Trump, responsible for military attacks against Iran and the assassination of Iranian leaders, is one of the hosts of the 2026 FIFA World Cup? And why does Israel remain fully integrated into the international football system, without any relevant sanctions, even in the face of the ongoing genocide against the Palestinian people and successive accusations of war crimes?

The answer lies not in universal principles, sporting morality, or institutional neutrality. The answer lies in power.

World football does not exist outside of international relations. On the contrary: it is one of its most sophisticated expressions. FIFA is not a neutral entity hovering above global politics; it operates within the power structure of the international system and therefore reproduces its hierarchies, interests, and hegemonies.

Joseph Nye formulated the concept of "soft power" to explain how states exert influence not only through military or economic coercion, but also through cultural attraction, the construction of legitimacy, and the ability to shape preferences and consensus. For over a decade, I have been working academically with the concept of soft power applied to sports diplomacy, including developing a critical analysis of the ideological and hegemonic assumptions present in this theoretical formulation, especially regarding the naturalization of the values and interests of Western powers as supposedly universal. Sport, especially football, has become one of the central instruments of this global symbolic dispute. Mega-sporting events, World Cups, and Olympic Games function as showcases of international prestige, mechanisms for building reputation, and apparatuses of geopolitical legitimation.

However, as Marxist traditions demonstrate, including its classic formulations and the theoretical contributions of Antonio Gramsci and Gramscian authors in the field of hegemony and imperialism, so-called "soft power" is never dissociated from "hard power." In my doctoral thesis, later adapted into the book "China, Football and Development: Socialism and Soft Power" (published by Routledge), I develop a Marxist critique of the concept of soft power, especially based on Gramsci's analysis of hegemony, consensus, ideology, and power struggles in the international system. Consensus does not exist without latent coercion, just as domination is not sustained solely by material force, but also by cultural, ideological, and symbolic mechanisms that organize the production of consent. Hegemony, in this sense, is not reduced to economic or military dimensions, but is expressed in an articulated way in these multiple spheres. It is precisely at this point that football reveals its deepest political dimension.

Russia's exclusion cannot be understood solely as an ethical decision. It must be understood within the broader context of the geopolitical dispute between the West, led by the US, and its strategic adversaries. Russia has become the target of a process of international isolation that extends beyond economic and military sanctions, reaching culture, sport, and entertainment. Football has been mobilized as part of this global delegitimization effort.

On the other hand, the United States occupies a distinct position within the international order. As Antonio Gramsci argues, hegemony is sustained not only by force, but by the capacity to produce consensus and present its particular interests as universal. Hegemonic power manages to define which wars are "defensive," which interventions are "humanitarian," and which acts of violence deserve international condemnation.

In this sense, the US is not treated as a common actor in the international system. It is the center of the hegemonic order built after the Second World War. The very idea of a “rules-based international order” often operates as ideological language that legitimizes the interests of the dominant power. When Washington invades countries, promotes targeted assassinations, or imposes devastating economic blockades, these acts rarely result in sporting exclusion. On the contrary: the US continues to be presented as the guardian of liberal democracy and the “free world.”

The contradiction becomes even more evident in the case of Iran. For the past few months, the participation of the Iranian national team in the 2026 World Cup has been in doubt. Not because of sporting performance, corruption, or violation of FIFA rules, but because its players might simply not receive visas to enter the United States. The sporting logic has been completely reversed: the host country has gained the political power to decide who can or cannot compete.

The Iranian Federation demanded explicit guarantees of security and free entry for all players and members of the coaching staff, especially those who completed mandatory military service with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), such as athletes like Mehdi Taremi and Ehsan Hajsafi. The Iranian concern arose after members of the delegation faced visa problems at FIFA-related events and given that all of the team's group stage matches will take place in the United States.

What's most striking is that this situation was treated almost casually by the Western media and sports institutions. Imagine the opposite: a World Cup hosted by Russia, China, or Iran threatening to prevent players from certain national teams from entering for political-ideological reasons. The scandal would be immediate. But when the hegemonic power imposes restrictions, they are framed as "national security issues."

Furthermore, there is growing fear surrounding the authoritarian actions of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, better known and feared by its acronym, ICE. The tightening of immigration policies in the US, marked by arbitrary detentions, deportations, and persecution of foreigners, casts a shadow over the very realization of the World Cup. Foreign fans, migrant workers, and delegation members live with the constant fear of discriminatory approaches, immigration difficulties, and state repression. A World Cup, which should symbolize global circulation, cultural integration, and encounters between peoples, risks taking place under an environment of permanent surveillance, intimidation, and securitization.

At the same time, the United States is intensifying aggressive imperial policies. The tariff war against various countries around the world, the attempt to coercively reorganize global production chains, the open threats of annexation of Greenland, and the repeated interference against governments considered "hostile" demonstrate that the imperial logic remains alive. US foreign policy continues to operate under the idea that Washington has the legitimacy to discipline the international system and unilaterally impose its strategic interests.

A particularly illustrative case is that of Venezuela, whose recent history further highlights the selectivity of contemporary international norms. In 2026, the United States carried out a military operation that resulted in the capture and removal of President Nicolás Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores, transferring them to US custody and subsequently to New York, where they faced criminal charges. This action constituted a clear violation of Venezuelan national sovereignty and a direct breach of international law, insofar as it involved the unilateral use of force on the territory of a sovereign state, without authorization from the United Nations or any internationally recognized legal mandate. This episode was accompanied by broader debates about the legality of the operation and its implications for international law, with significant portions of the international community questioning its compatibility with the fundamental principles of the UN Charter and with Venezuelan sovereignty. In this context, even the public discussion in the United States about the possibility of capturing and forcibly removing Maduro from power already signaled the normalization of practices fundamentally incompatible with the principles of state sovereignty when applied to countries targeted by US foreign policy.

The case of Israel is equally revealing of the moral selectivity of global football. Over the past few years, there has been mounting denunciation of ethnic cleansing, apartheid, massacres against Palestinian civilians, systematic destruction of infrastructure, and mass killings in Gaza. Yet, there has been no effective move by FIFA to suspend Israel from international competitions.

The contradiction becomes evident when comparing the speed of punishment against Russia with the complacency shown towards Israeli violence. This demonstrates that FIFA's criteria are not universal, but deeply political. Some states may be turned into international pariahs; others remain protected by the structure of alliances and interests of Western hegemony.

In this scenario, football functions as an ideological apparatus of the international order. The narrative of "sporting neutrality" is used selectively. When it is in the hegemonic bloc's interest, sport and politics quickly become intertwined. When it is not, sporting autonomy is invoked to avoid punishment and preserve strategic allies.

The 2026 FIFA World Cup itself symbolizes this historical contradiction. The tournament will be hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico, but will inevitably have the US as the political and symbolic center of the event. The competition will take place precisely in a context of crisis of US hegemony, Chinese ascension, deepening multipolar disputes, and growing challenge to Western power in the Global South.

In Gramscian terms, we are living through a moment of hegemonic crisis: "the old is dying and the new cannot yet be born." The tightening of sanctions, hybrid warfare, narrative disputes, and the instrumentalization of sport reveal precisely this process. The dominant power perceives the relative weakening of its capacity for persuasion and, therefore, simultaneously intensifies coercion and propaganda.

FIFA, far from escaping this logic, is an integral part of it. Globalized football has become part of the machinery of international capitalism and the power structures of contemporary imperialism. Its governance reflects the asymmetries of the world system.

This does not mean defending wars or downplaying human tragedies. It means questioning why some victims mobilize immediate universal outrage, while others remain invisible. It means asking why certain states are punished exemplarily while others remain legitimized, rewarded, and celebrated.

The suspension of Russia demonstrated that FIFA is fully capable of acting politically when it wishes. As I publicly pointed out in 2022, from the very first moment of that decision, it was an exceptional measure, unprecedented in international football, hardly applicable to countries aligned with Western hegemony. The unfolding of events only reinforced this perception. The silence regarding Israel, the normalization of the USA's leading role in the 2026 World Cup, and the very possibility of a qualified team being prevented from competing due to immigration restrictions from the host country demonstrate that the problem has never been the politicization of sport. The problem is who has enough power to define which acts of violence matter and which can continue to be treated as normal.