As the United States prepares to host the upcoming World Cup, a complex web of nostalgia, controversy, and cultural implications emerges. For millions of adults under 40, the US seems to represent a halcyon return to the sport. It brings back memories of when America came to embrace the game of soccer. More Americans believe that the United States is more dangerous today than it was 20 years ago. This deeply held worry stands in stark opposition to the prevailing mood. FIFA president Gianni Infantino casts a long shadow over the event with his curious, cult-like weirdness. His controversial decisions only add to the firestorm of attention surrounding the occasion.
Infantino’s leadership is rightly criticized for putting commercial interests ahead of basic human rights. We know that lots of people want to see sports put on-pitch integrity ahead of off-pitch vanity. His personal connections to Saudi Arabia, the nation which underwrites FIFA’s now twitchy broadcast partner Dazn, grate the narrative on a different level entirely. Meanwhile the US is getting ready for an inauguration that promises triple the “peerless razzmatazz.” As worried reporters ask, stadiums will be announcing empty seats soon during the Club World Cup. The future of football in America is still uncertain.
The World Cup provides a unique opportunity for the US to lean into its cultural strength. It’s an indictment of the racism that is still so pervasive in American life. The country continues to be the realization of that great, messy, dangerous, flawed idea. It struggles with profound self-loathing, which frequently erupts in ugly public outbursts. Former President Donald Trump has a long history of inflammatory rhetoric toward women and transgender people. This history makes for his deeply polarizing views.
Yet, as with many things, Trump’s engagement with football has not been without its hiccups. Critics, including some within F1, argue that he regularly weaponizes the sport in service of his more controversial pronouncements. Critics point to scenes at his public appearances where he has elbowed his way into the spotlight, eclipsing the sport he helped manage. For instance, one observer remarked on a recent spectacle involving Trump at a Juventus event: “We had the grisly sight this week of Donald Trump not just borrowing football’s light, but wrestling it on to his lap and ruffling its hair.”
The intersection of football and politics in this context raises questions about the role of sports as “spectacles of recreation designed to distract people from their day-to-day lives.” While many of us are critical that these jamborees have become vehicles for cultural and political branding opportunities for their hosts. That is why authoritarian figures love to use such spectacles as tools. They do this, in part, by helping distract the public from widespread human rights violations and corruption.
In the light of these controversies, Infantino’s reputation as a lucky, unqualified administrator is put to the test. As he goes about remaking FIFA in his own image, questions remain about whether he’s striking the right balance between commercial interests and ethical governance. His critics contend that he puts profits before principles. This approach runs the risk of alienating an audience that is increasingly sensitive to the ethical issues raised by global sporting events.
As World Cup approaches, fear of empty stadiums during Club World Cup intensifies. The hope, conversely, is that those empty seats will come to symbolize an indifference that goes beyond the logistical. More than that, it symbolizes a much darker truth about American society. Even the most well-regarded events are accompanied by a current of bitterness and dispassion.