The 2026 FIFA World Cup is underway, but for many football fans, the atmosphere feels strangely different.
This is meant to be the biggest football tournament in history, hosted across the United States, Canada and Mexico, with 48 teams and 104 matches. It should have been presented as a celebration of the global game, a festival of nations, cultures, languages and supporters.
Instead, much of the conversation surrounding the tournament has been dominated by ticket prices, transport costs, visa restrictions, immigration fears, political tensions and accusations that FIFA has turned the people’s game into a luxury product.
For Muslims, and for anyone concerned with justice, the issue is not whether people may enjoy football. Sport has its place. Joy has its place. Community has its place. The issue is what happens when a global spectacle becomes a mirror of inequality, hypocrisy and power.
The 2026 World Cup is exposing something deeper than football. It is exposing the moral contradictions of the modern world.
The World Cup That Feels Less Like a Welcome
Previous tournaments in Russia and Qatar were heavily criticised in Western media. Political issues, human rights claims and, in the case of Qatar, migrant worker conditions became central themes in coverage before and during the tournament.
Yet by the time those tournaments were played, many travelling fans reported positive experiences, strong organisation and a sense of hospitality. Qatar in particular invested heavily in transport access, crowd management and fan experience, with public transport linked to the Hayya system and widely promoted as part of the tournament infrastructure.
The 2026 tournament has created a different mood.
Rather than a sense of welcome, many fans have encountered a sense of exclusion. The tournament is being played in some of the wealthiest cities in the world, yet ordinary supporters are facing costs that make attendance difficult, if not impossible.
Football has always belonged to the people. But this version of the World Cup increasingly feels designed for corporate guests, wealthy tourists and those who can afford to pay whatever price the market demands.
FIFA and the Price of the People’s Game
Ticket prices have become one of the most controversial features of the 2026 World Cup.
The issue is not simply that prices have risen. The issue is that the rise represents a wider transformation in how global sport is being managed. FIFA speaks the language of inclusion, diversity and global unity, but its commercial strategy increasingly prices out the very communities that give football its soul.
A World Cup should not feel like a private event for the wealthy.
When ordinary fans cannot afford tickets, when families are forced to choose between basic living costs and watching a match, and when access to the world’s biggest football event becomes another symbol of economic inequality, football loses part of its moral meaning.
This is not only a sports issue. It is a question of fairness.
Islam does not condemn trade, profit or business. But Islam does condemn exploitation, greed and the hoarding of access by elites. When a game built by workers, migrants, communities and ordinary supporters is repackaged as an expensive luxury experience, it reflects a deeper sickness in the way modern institutions value people.
The stadium may be full, but the game can still be morally empty.
Transport Costs and the Hidden Price of Attendance
The cost problem does not stop at tickets.
In New Jersey, World Cup matchgoers travelling from New York’s Penn Station to MetLife Stadium faced outrage after a proposed round-trip rail fare of $150 was reported, far above the ordinary cost of the journey. Following backlash, the dedicated World Cup rail fare was lowered, but it still remained dramatically higher than normal.
Similar concerns have been raised in other host cities, where transport, parking and stadium access create additional pressure on supporters.
This matters because the World Cup is not only about the ninety minutes on the pitch. It is about the full experience of attending, travelling, gathering and celebrating. If fans are charged excessively at every stage, then the tournament becomes less a public festival and more a commercial extraction machine.
The message to fans becomes clear: you are welcome, but only if you can pay.
What Is Sportswashing?
In recent years, the term “sportswashing” has been used to describe the use of sport by governments, corporations or powerful institutions to improve their reputation, especially when they are facing criticism over human rights, war, corruption or injustice.
The term has often been directed at non-Western states. Russia 2018 and Qatar 2022 were repeatedly framed through this lens by Western commentators, politicians and media outlets.
But the 2026 World Cup raises a different question.
What happens when the host is not trying to soften its image, but instead ends up revealing the reality behind its image?
This tournament has not washed away criticism of the United States. In many ways, it has amplified it. It has placed America’s immigration system, security culture, inequality, foreign policy tensions and commercial priorities on global display.
That is why some have described this tournament as the opposite of sportswashing. Instead of polishing the image of power, it has exposed it.
Travel Restrictions and the Politics of Who Is Welcome
One of the most serious concerns surrounding the tournament has been the treatment of fans and participants from countries affected by US travel restrictions.
Supporters from countries such as Iran, Haiti, Senegal and Côte d’Ivoire have faced major barriers or uncertainty due to US entry policies. These restrictions raise a serious question: how can a tournament claim to be global when some supporters are effectively locked out because of their passport?
The issue has become especially sensitive because Iran qualified for the tournament while facing direct political tensions with the United States. The Iranian national team was based in Mexico despite playing matches in the US, and American restrictions initially limited how long the team could remain in the country around matchdays.
The US later eased some restrictions for Iran’s team, but the damage to the tournament’s image was already clear. A World Cup host is expected to provide fair and practical conditions for all qualified teams. When politics intrudes so heavily into team logistics, the integrity of the tournament is weakened.
This is not only about Iran. It is about a wider principle.
A World Cup should not reproduce the global hierarchy of passports, borders and suspicion. It should not create a two-tier tournament where some fans are welcomed as tourists and others are treated as threats.
Immigration Fear and the Stadium Experience
For many fans, especially those from Latin America and migrant communities, the 2026 World Cup has also unfolded against fears around US immigration enforcement.
The presence of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, and the broader climate around immigration policy, has created anxiety for some supporters who might otherwise have travelled freely to games, fan zones or public gatherings.
A tournament cannot be separated from the country hosting it. Stadiums do not exist outside politics. Public transport, policing, border control, visa rules and security culture all shape how fans experience the event.
If people fear being questioned, profiled, detained or treated with suspicion, then the tournament is no longer a celebration for them. It becomes a risk calculation.
This is especially important for Muslims and people from immigrant backgrounds. Many already know what it means to be treated as suspect because of a name, passport, language, beard, hijab or country of origin.
The Omar Artan Case
The case of Somali referee Omar Artan became one of the clearest symbols of the tournament’s contradictions.
Artan was set to make history as the first Somali referee at a men’s World Cup finals. Instead, he was denied entry to the United States and removed from the list of officials.
For many in the Muslim world, and especially across Africa, this was more than an administrative issue. It represented the way global institutions often celebrate diversity in speeches but fail to protect it in practice.
A referee who earned his place on merit should not become collateral damage in a system of suspicion.
If FIFA cannot guarantee fair entry and participation for its own selected officials, then what confidence can ordinary fans have?
Security, Gun Violence and the American Backdrop
The 2026 World Cup has also taken place against concerns around public safety in the United States.
A shooting in Kansas City injured several people near the wider area associated in media reports with England’s tournament base, prompting renewed scrutiny over security. Local officials criticised some coverage as exaggerated or misleading, but the incident still fed into a broader global anxiety about gun violence in America.
This is part of the reality the tournament cannot escape.
For international fans, the United States is not only seen through stadiums, commercials and celebrity appearances. It is also seen through news of shootings, policing, immigration raids, inequality and political tension.
The World Cup did not create these issues. It simply placed them under a brighter light.
The Decline of American Soft Power
For decades, the United States projected itself as a country of opportunity, openness, entertainment, freedom and global leadership. Whether that image was always accurate is another question. But it was powerful.
Today, that image is under strain.
The wars in the Middle East, the continued devastation of Gaza, hostility toward migrants, political polarisation, aggressive border policies, economic inequality and the growing power of corporate elites have all damaged America’s global reputation.
The 2026 World Cup arrives inside that context.
Instead of presenting a welcoming face to the world, the tournament has too often highlighted a harsher reality: expensive access, restricted movement, political suspicion and commercial excess.
This is why the tournament feels symbolically important. It is not just a World Cup hosted in America. It is a World Cup that reveals America at this moment in history.
A Muslim Reading of the Spectacle
For Muslims, the point is not to reject football or joy. Islam is not a religion that demands permanent sadness. The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, recognised lawful recreation, community life and moments of happiness.
But Islam teaches balance. It teaches that entertainment should not blind people to injustice. It teaches that wealth should not become an idol. It teaches that power must be held accountable. It teaches that the weak, the traveller, the stranger and the oppressed have rights.
A tournament that claims to unite the world should not ignore the people excluded from it.
A sport that claims to belong to everyone should not be priced beyond ordinary families.
A global event that speaks of inclusion should not leave some fans fearing borders, raids and suspicion.
This is where the moral problem lies.
Bread, Circuses and Modern Distraction
Great spectacles have always served political purposes. Empires understood the power of entertainment. Crowds can be distracted. Public anger can be redirected. National image can be polished. Injustice can be hidden behind ceremony, music, colour and competition.
But sometimes the spectacle fails to conceal the system behind it.
The 2026 World Cup may still produce beautiful football. There will be memorable goals, heroic performances, emotional fans and moments of genuine human connection. None of that should be denied.
But the beauty of football does not erase the ugliness of greed, exclusion and hypocrisy.
A Muslim should be able to enjoy the game while still seeing the world clearly.
The Real Question
The question is not whether people should watch the World Cup.
The real question is whether we can watch it without being deceived by it.
Can we enjoy football while recognising the workers, migrants, poor families and excluded fans left outside the gates?
Can we celebrate skill while criticising greed?
Can we appreciate the game while refusing to worship the spectacle?
Can we see how power uses sport, money and emotion to shape public attention?
The 2026 World Cup is not merely a tournament. It is a case study in modern power.
It shows us a world where football is global, but access is unequal. Where inclusion is advertised, but borders remain hostile. Where joy is sold, but only to those who can afford it. Where powerful institutions speak of unity, while profiting from division.
Enjoy the football if you choose to watch it.
But do not let the spectacle make you forget the truth.
