World Cup 2026 Faces a Crisis of Confidence as U.S. Immigration Policies Cast a Shadow

The World Cup has survived wars, boycotts and political upheaval. But as preparations accelerate for the 2026 tournament — the largest in football’s history, spread across the United States, Canada and Mexico — FIFA now faces a different kind of threat: a growing erosion of trust.

In recent weeks, a convergence of U.S. immigration policy, viral social media footage and public political confrontation has transformed what was meant to be a celebration of global unity into a flashpoint of controversy. While ticket demand remains historically high, signs of anxiety are spreading among fans, sponsors and international observers, raising questions about whether the world’s most watched sporting event can fully escape the politics of its primary host nation.

At the center of the controversy is an executive order signed by President Donald Trump suspending the processing of immigration visas for citizens of 75 countries. Announced with little warning, the policy has affected large parts of Africa, the Middle East and South Asia — regions that collectively represent hundreds of millions of football supporters.

The decision did not technically ban tourists. But in practice, visa fees increased by $250 for travelers outside the U.S. visa waiver program, wait times lengthened significantly, and uncertainty became the dominant experience for many would-be visitors.

For a tournament marketed as welcoming the world, that uncertainty has proven corrosive.

A Viral Moment That Changed the Narrative

The breaking point came on January 7, when video footage circulated globally showing U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents fatally shooting a 37-year-old U.S. citizen during an enforcement operation in Minneapolis — one of the cities scheduled to host World Cup matches.

The footage spread rapidly across X, Instagram and TikTok, accumulating tens of millions of views within days. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey publicly denounced the presence of ICE in the city, while Minnesota Governor Tim Walz described the incident as “entirely predictable and entirely preventable.”

Outside the United States, the reaction was swift. Muhammad Sappa, a Lebanese diplomat, posted a video tearing up his World Cup ticket and calling for a boycott — an act that quickly became symbolic, shared widely by fans and activists across continents.

Within days, FIFA confirmed that more than 16,800 people had canceled their ticket registrations during Phase Three of the tournament’s random selection draw.

The number, on its own, is modest. In context, it is not.

Record Demand, Fragile Confidence

At nearly the same time, FIFA announced a staggering figure: more than 500 million ticket applications, an all-time record for the World Cup.

Placed side by side, the two statistics appear contradictory. Cancellations represent roughly 0.003 percent of total demand. From a purely economic standpoint, the tournament remains a commercial juggernaut. Analysts project the 2026 World Cup will add $17.2 billion to U.S. GDP and generate approximately 185,000 jobs.

Yet confidence, unlike revenue, is not easily quantified.

Supporter organizations across Europe and Africa have warned that many fans are delaying travel decisions, waiting to see whether visa rules, enforcement practices and political rhetoric will stabilize. Football Supporters Europe, which represents millions of fans, criticized not only soaring ticket prices — with final match tickets ranging from $4,185 to $8,680 — but what it described as a “breakdown of trust” between host nations and global supporters.

“This is no longer just about affordability,” one statement read. “It is about safety, dignity and whether fans will feel welcome.”

FIFA Pushes Back — Quietly and Publicly

FIFA has long insisted on political neutrality, often avoiding confrontation with host governments. This time, that approach has shown signs of strain.

In October 2025, months before the current controversy escalated, FIFA Vice President Victor Montagliani responded bluntly to suggestions from President Trump that matches could be moved out of cities he deemed unsafe.

“This is FIFA’s tournament,” Mr. Montagliani said. “FIFA makes the decisions.”

Then he went further: “Football is bigger than any regime.”

The remark marked one of the clearest public challenges FIFA has ever issued to a sitting U.S. president. Behind closed doors, according to officials familiar with the discussions, contingency planning began quietly soon after.

The tournament’s structure allows for flexibility. Of the 16 host cities, 11 are in the United States, three in Mexico and two in Canada. FIFA retains the authority to reallocate matches if necessary — a possibility that has unsettled officials in Washington.

FIFA President Gianni Infantino, known for maintaining cordial relationships with political leaders, has remained notably silent. That silence, observers say, reflects a careful calculation: avoid escalation, but preserve institutional independence.

Sponsors, Hotels and the Geography of Risk

While political tensions dominate headlines, market signals tell a more complex story.

Hotel prices across all host cities have surged by an average of 328 percent compared with the same period in non-World Cup years. Vancouver has seen increases of 233 percent, with some listings exceeding $1,700 per night. Mexico’s host cities recorded the fastest growth at 114 percent, Canada at 92 percent — and the United States, surprisingly, at just 55 percent.

The data suggests demand has not shifted away from the U.S. so much as spread evenly across all three host nations.

Sponsors, however, are being more cautious. Major brands including Emirates, Visa and Adidas have reportedly begun reallocating portions of their promotional budgets toward Canada and Mexico. The move is not a boycott, executives say, but a risk-management strategy. Political volatility carries reputational costs.

Human rights organizations have been more explicit. Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch condemned the visa restrictions as discriminatory and incompatible with the spirit of a global sporting event. International outlets including Reuters, the BBC and Al Jazeera have closely tracked visa rejections and delays, framing the issue as a test of America’s credibility as a host.

A Question Bigger Than Football

Canada and Mexico, the United States’ co-hosts, have largely avoided the controversy — not through rhetoric, but through preparation. Toronto and Vancouver report that infrastructure projects are on schedule. Canada’s visa policies remain unchanged. Mexico’s host cities, veterans of previous World Cups, have emphasized continuity and openness.

The contrast has not gone unnoticed.

For fans deciding where to attend matches, the calculus is simple: Will I feel safe? Will I feel welcome?

That question, analysts say, may prove more consequential than any boycott metric or economic forecast. The World Cup’s value has always rested on symbolism as much as spectacle — on the idea that borders soften, at least temporarily, in the presence of sport.

Whether that idea can survive the political realities of 2026 remains uncertain.

What is clear is that the tournament’s success will not be measured solely in ticket sales or hotel revenue. It will be measured in trust — and trust, once strained, is far harder to rebuild than stadiums.