In the midst of escalating regional tensions, and despite the geographical distance that separates us from the next edition of the 2026 World Cup, the repercussions of current events cast a shadow over the possibility of holding this tournament. Many factors, both security and financial, make answering the question of its residency more difficult day after day. The matter is not related to the desire of the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA) to organize it, but rather because the tournament has become too large to be separated from the international climate in which it will be held.
Ostensibly, FIFA still adheres to its traditional principle of “neutrality in political and religious matters,” a principle entrenched in its statute. At the same time, it affirms its commitment to respecting human rights and combating discrimination within its strategy for sustainability and human rights for the 2026 World Cup. However, this neutrality seems closer to institutional language than to a practical reality. The tournament will be held in a tense political and security environment, in a divided American public space, and in an international moment in which wars, immigration, and internal polarization are intertwined with any huge public event. Recent intelligence reports revealed that the threat is not limited to a traditional security attack on a stadium or team, but rather extends to include transportation infrastructure, fan zones, large gatherings, and the possibility of civil unrest linked to US President Donald Trump’s crackdown on immigration. This shows that the political danger does not come only from the outside or from cross-border extremist groups, but rather from the internal division itself, that is, from the environment that will receive the heroism and surround it in the media, security, and popularity.
What is more dangerous is that these threats appeared at a time when American preparations were faltering due to the delay in releasing $625 million in federal security grants allocated for the event.
Although the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) announced on March 18, 2026, the distribution of the entire amount of this amount to the host American cities, the disbursement of funds after months of delay does not erase the effect of wasted time, but rather transforms the problem from “lack of funding” to “lack of time” for the concerned agencies.
Here the limits of FIFA’s ability to isolate become clear. The International Federation is able to set regulations, impose rules inside stadiums, raise anti-discrimination slogans, and coordinate with host countries, but it cannot control an explosive internal American political context, nor guarantee that the streets surrounding the stadiums, transportation networks, fan squares, or digital space remain outside the influence of political conflict.
Most importantly, he does not have the authority to separate heroism from the geopolitical files that will automatically follow it, from war and regional tensions to immigration files, protests, and sharp divisions within American society. This is a conclusion imposed by the nature and size of the event, rather than a declared position from any party.
The 2026 version itself also makes this chapter more difficult. The tournament will be held between June 11 and July 19, 2026, with the participation of 48 teams for the first time across three host countries and 16 cities, while the United States will host 78 matches, including the decisive rounds and the final in New Jersey. This geographic, human, and media breadth means that any security or political incident, even if it is limited, will cross cities, platforms, and screens.
Therefore, amid the question marks over the financing process, and even the threat of security incidents, nothing indicates the possibility of achieving complete isolation by FIFA. Politics is already present on the scene, whether FIFA acknowledges this or continues to adhere to the language of neutrality.
