REPORT: The 2026 World Cup besieged by visas — how Trump is sabotaging his own sporting triumph

Introduction: The greatest football celebration begins… without half the world

An unprecedented tournament struck by a fundamental contradiction

The 2026 World Cup was supposed to be the most inclusive event in football history. Forty-eight qualified nations, one hundred and four matches played across three countries — the United States, Canada, and Mexico — massive stadiums, a calendar of unprecedented scope. Gianni Infantino, the FIFA president, had proclaimed it loudly at the May 2025 Congress: "The world is welcome in America." The entire world was invited. The message was clear, solemn, almost triumphant.

But the world could not come. Or at least, a significant portion of the world ran into a closed door, locked by immigration decrees, abysmal refusal rates, and a visa processing system that was never designed to absorb the colossal demand of a tournament of this magnitude. Thirty-nine countries face total or partial entry restrictions on American soil. Supporters from Senegal, Haiti, Iran, and Ivory Coast — four qualified nations — cannot even obtain the basic tourist visa recommended by American authorities to attend matches.

When sport becomes hostage to immigration policy

This is not a statistical abstraction. These are separated families, shattered dreams, tickets bought months in advance that end up worthless. It is Somali referee Omar Artan, named best African referee of 2025 by the CAF, held for eleven hours at Miami International Airport before being sent back to Mogadishu — despite a valid visa and proper FIFA accreditation. It is the mother of Cape Verdean goalkeeper Vozinha, 59 years old, watching her son produce the match of his life from his island of São Vicente because the 15,000-dollar refundable bond required for an American visa exceeded her means.

The shameful figures: 40% refusal rates in eleven qualified countries

The BBC analysis: a damning statistical reality

An analysis by BBC World Service of US State Department data revealed a fact difficult to ignore: the B1/B2 visa refusal rate — the standard tourist visa recommended for supporters — exceeds 40% in eleven of the forty-eight countries qualified for this World Cup. These countries are: Ecuador, Egypt, Haiti, Algeria, Uzbekistan, Cape Verde, Jordan, Iran, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Ghana, and Senegal. This data covers the period from October 2024 to the end of September 2025, before the peak of tournament-related applications had even begun.

For Jordan — competing in its first World Cup — the refusal rate reached 57% over the studied year. In Ghana, according to Canadian data, 73% of World Cup-related visa applications were rejected by Ottawa. The Moroccan supporters' group "Les Sbouaa" saw 40 of its 42 members denied their American visa — without any official explanation — despite established travel histories and solid application files. The overall refusal rate for B1/B2 visas across all nationalities was 34%. Eleven qualified countries therefore far exceed this average.

The 39 countries under restrictions: a figure that speaks volumes

Beyond refusal statistics, the Trump administration has totally or partially suspended the issuance of visitor visas for 39 countries, of which 19 face a total suspension and 20 face partial restrictions. Among these 39, four nations qualified their national teams for this World Cup: Haiti and Iran are subject to a total entry ban for their ordinary citizens, while Senegal and Ivory Coast face partial restrictions. This means concretely that citizens of these countries cannot even apply for the standard tourist visa, making their presence in the stands virtually impossible without individual exemptions.

Omar Artan: the expelled referee, symbol of a systemic absurdity

Eleven hours of detention for a valid visa

The story of Omar Artan is the one that moved the global football community most deeply. A FIFA referee since 2018, the first Somali to officiate a continental final in 2025, named best African referee of the year by the Confederation of African Football, Artan had been selected by FIFA to officiate at the 2026 World Cup. It was the crowning achievement of an exceptional career. He arrived at Miami International Airport on a Monday, holding a valid American visa and an official FIFA accreditation — the two documents supposed to guarantee him entry onto American territory.

What happened next borders on Kafkaesque absurdity. US customs agents detained him for eleven hours, questioning him about alleged ties to the jihadist group Al-Shabaab. He denied any connection. His diplomatic passport and visa were deemed insufficient. The White House, through a spokesperson, declared that Artan was "in contact with very bad people" — without ever specifying who, or producing any evidence. He was sent back to Istanbul, then to Mogadishu. FIFA offered him full payment of his tournament fees and an invitation to referee the UEFA Super Cup between PSG and Aston Villa in August 2026.

His response: a lesson in dignity

Artan refused the financial compensation. "I don't want compensation. I wanted to referee at the World Cup," he stated in a communiqué that circulated worldwide. "I had the right papers and everything I needed. I am simply a referee trying to live his dream." He announced his intention to qualify for the 2030 World Cup. His exclusion was not without diplomatic consequences: Somalia is among the countries whose nationals are banned from the United States under Trump's decree, regardless of the nature of the trip or the status of the person concerned. A FIFA-designated referee, holding international accreditation, was therefore sent back for national belonging — not for any act.

Vozinha and his mother: the human face of immigration bureaucracy

An embrace worth 15,000 dollars

Cape Verdean goalkeeper Vozinha, 40 years old, is one of the revelations of this World Cup. During Cape Verde's match against Spain, he delivered an extraordinary performance that earned him the man of the match award and millions of new social media followers. But after the game, cameras caught him in tears. He explained: "I cried because I grew up with my grandparents, who are unfortunately no longer here. They passed away a few years ago. My mother could not be there because of the visa issue and the amount we would have had to pay. We were unable to manage it in time."

The reason is simple and brutal: in January 2026, the American government added Cape Verde to the list of countries whose nationals must deposit a refundable bond of up to 15,000 dollars to obtain a tourist visa, on top of regular consular fees. Vozinha's mother, Ana Candida Evora, 59 years old, watched her son make Cape Verdean football history from her home in São Vicente, one of the ten main islands of Cape Verde. The Trump administration had admittedly lifted this bond requirement for match ticket holders in May 2026 — but too late for families who had given up without being able to buy tickets in advance.

The political intervention and the resolution

The media echo of this story was such that Hakeem Jeffries, Democratic House Minority Leader, publicly called on Secretary of State Marco Rubio to do everything possible to allow Ana Candida Evora to attend her son's second match against Uruguay in Miami the following Sunday. "No mother should miss the chance to watch her child make history," Jeffries declared. Ultimately, the visa fees were waived, Evora's Cape Verdean passport was expedited, and mother and son were reunited in Miami. But how many other families, less media-savvy, less fortunate, spent these weeks watching their loved one play on a television screen thousands of miles away?

Iran: a qualified team treated as a national security threat

The Tijuana base camp and the residency restrictions

Iran is the most extreme case at this World Cup. The Iranian national team was forced to set up its base camp in Tijuana, Mexico — after initially planning to train in Arizona — due to immigration restrictions that bar any prolonged stay on American soil. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) set strict rules: the team is allowed to enter the United States one day before each match and must leave the same evening. For their first match against New Zealand in Los Angeles, some members of the Iranian delegation watched the game from Mexico, their visas not having been granted in time.

The Iranian Football Federation (FFIRI) requested to arrive in each host city two days before the match to allow the team to acclimatize and complete its final preparation. This request was denied twice — for the match against New Zealand and the one against Belgium in Los Angeles. Andrew Giuliani, director of the White House's World Cup working group, defended the arrangement by declaring it was "quite extraordinary" that the thirty-one players and coaches had all received visas. He acknowledged that some federation officials had not — because, according to him, there was "derogatory information" about them.

15 federation officials refused, an official complaint filed with FIFA

According to information reported by American media, 15 members of the Islamic Republic of Iran Football Federation were denied American visas before the tournament opened. The State Department justified these refusals with security concerns and suspicions that the tournament would be used to "introduce terrorists into the United States under false pretenses." Iran filed an official complaint with FIFA, demanding that the organization "adhere to the principles of fairness and established standards." Iranian coach Amir Ghalenoei summarized his delegation's bitterness after the match against New Zealand: "Our team may be the most oppressed of this entire World Cup."

Senegal without its Lions: the truncated football of a nation

A stadium full of diaspora in place of real supporters

On June 16, 2026, MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, hosted Senegal's opening match against France. The Lions of Teranga lost 3-1, but the absence from the stands of their own supporters who had come from Senegal was as striking as the score. Senegal is among the countries whose nationals face partial restrictions on American visas. Manager Pape Thiaw hoped that members of the Senegalese diaspora in the United States would compensate for the absence of direct supporters. They indeed answered the call — but that does not change the underlying reality: hundreds of thousands of Senegalese who dreamed of attending these matches were structurally prevented from doing so.

Mahmoud Toure, a Senegalese man who has lived in the United States for 25 years, described the situation with striking precision: "A friend of mine in Senegal had obtained a ticket through the FIFA lottery. He could not come because he did not get a visa. That is how serious the situation is." The Senegalese team captain publicly questioned the fact that his team had to play without the support of its own fans because of a system of immigration exclusion. This is not a security question. It is a question of coherence: how does one organize the world's greatest football tournament while excluding supporters of the teams participating in it?

Journalists too: freedom of the press under strain

It was not only supporters who were affected. The International Sports Press Association (AIPS) raised the alarm over the fact that some foreign journalists were unable to cover the tournament, or were issued single-entry visas — preventing them from following their national teams across the three host countries. An Iraqi journalist was turned away at Chicago before the tournament had even begun. Freedom of information, a fundamental pillar of the Western model, is thus compromised within an event that the United States proudly hosts as a showcase of its cultural and sporting power.

The democratic paradox: the passport as the price of admission to the sporting dream

Norway and Scotland enter freely, Ghana and Morocco are blocked

The divide is brutal in its simplicity. Nationals of 42 countries — primarily European, Northeast Asian, and developed Oceanian — benefit from the Visa Waiver Program (VWP) via the ESTA system: no consular appointment, no high fees, no interview with an officer. A Norwegian or a Scot can buy a plane ticket and land in the United States with a simple online authorization. A Moroccan, however, must make an appointment at an embassy that is sometimes booked months out, pay consular fees, prove sufficient ties to their home country, and submit to an interview — all while knowing that their national refusal rate hovers at 40% or above.

The Moroccan supporters' group "Les Sbouaa" illustrates this reality strikingly: 40 of their 42 members were rejected, without explanation. These fans had established international travel histories, stable professional situations, complete application files. They are among the most passionate supporters in the world, those who travel across Africa and Europe to accompany the national team. The United States decided they represented a risk. No evidence, no individual case examined. Just a statistical rejection rate mechanically applied to a collective application.

Bulgaria at 80% refusal: the incoherence is total

To illustrate how far the incoherence can go, take the case of Bulgaria. This European Union country — an Atlanticist partner, a NATO member — reportedly shows an American visa refusal rate approaching 80% according to some sources. Bulgarian supporters who wanted to attend the World Cup in the United States were massively refused. Not nationals of adversarial regimes, not problematic security profiles: Europeans, members of an alliance led by the United States. The security logic here seems to have given way to administrative logic with no meaningful regulation or exception.

FIFA caught between two fires: Infantino facing the limits of his power

"We are not kings of the world"

FIFA finds itself in a deeply uncomfortable position. It awarded the organization of this World Cup to the United States, Canada, and Mexico, reaping record revenues in the process. It sold the event as the most open, most inclusive, most spectacular in all of history. And now, its president Gianni Infantino finds himself forced to justify the unjustifiable. His response, delivered to journalists in Miami, neatly encapsulates the impasse: "We are not kings of the world who can govern governments and police forces. We are a sports organization. We do our best with the means at our disposal."

That is technically true. FIFA does not issue American visas. It has no power to alter the immigration policies of a sovereign state. It set up the FIFA PASS system, intended to expedite consular appointments for ticket holders. But this system has its own limitations: it applies only to people who have already bought tickets, creating a vicious circle — to get an expedited appointment, one needs a ticket; but why buy a ticket if one does not know whether a visa will be granted? And above all, FIFA PASS does not alter eligibility criteria nor lift restrictions for nationals of the 39 countries under bans.

More than 200 civil organizations on high alert

Faced with FIFA's inaction and the Trump administration's policies, more than 200 civil rights organizations signed a collective warning addressed to international supporters, alerting them to the risks posed by American immigration policies. These groups organized demonstrations in several host cities and demanded the creation of ICE-raid-free zones around stadiums and official tournament events. The White House, through Andrew Giuliani, refused to guarantee that there would be no immigration agency operations during the tournament, declaring that the president had "ruled out no measure capable of protecting American citizens."

The diplomatic embarrassment: when sport exposes geopolitical fractures

Four qualified teams, four flags banned from the stands

The 2026 World Cup has laid bare a reality that diplomacy usually prefers to conceal: the United States does not maintain normal relations with a notable fraction of the world that has qualified for this tournament. Haiti and Iran are under total bans. The Iranian situation — a team forced to live in Mexico, to cross the border by charter the day before each match and return the same evening — is not only sportingly absurd but diplomatically revealing of a state of latent belligerence. Iran participates in an event hosted by the United States, under conditions that would not be imposed on an ordinary traveler.

Even Palestine has been affected: the head of the Palestinian football authority was denied a visa, according to information reported during the tournament. An accredited Iraqi photographer was turned away at Chicago before the matches had even begun. The list grows week by week, fed by individual refusal decisions that no one is able to effectively challenge within the tournament's timeframe. And meanwhile, the global sports institutions look on.

The image of the West damaged before two billion viewers

This World Cup is being broadcast worldwide, in countries whose nationals were unable to obtain visas to attend. Every refusal case, every border humiliation, every mother stranded on a Cape Verdean island becomes viral content on social media, commented and amplified by Russian, Chinese, and Iranian state media, eager to point to the hypocrisy of a West that proclaims itself open and universal. China, Russia, Iran — the West's strategic adversaries — need not invent anti-American arguments. The reality of denied visas provides them in real time.

The official response: national security above all

The DHS and State Department defend their record

Faced with criticism, American authorities maintained a firm line. Acting Deputy Director of the Department of Homeland Security, Lauren Bis, stated: "International visitors who are coming legally to the United States for the World Cup have nothing to fear. What makes someone a target for immigration enforcement is being illegally in the United States." The State Department indicated that the FIFA PASS program allowed expedited consular appointments for ticket holders and that players' relatives could benefit from bond waivers. Marco Rubio told Congress he had "no problem" issuing visas to teams like Iran — while specifying that affiliates of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) would be systematically excluded.

These arguments have their own logic. The United States does indeed have the sovereign right to control its borders. Security concerns related to events of such scale are legitimate. And the American government did make some accommodations: the bond requirement was lifted for ticket holders in May 2026, consular appointments were expedited, priority treatment was given to players' families. But these measures came too late, were too limited in scope, and never addressed the fundamental problem: the 39 countries under immigration restrictions cannot obtain ordinary tourist visas, FIFA PASS or not.

A State Department spokesperson: the catastrophic communication

Earlier this year, a State Department spokesperson had stated: "The Trump administration is ending the abuse of the American immigration system by those who would extract the wealth of the American people." This statement, made in the context of an international sporting tournament hosted by the United States, was interpreted as a confirmation that immigration policy would make no exception for football. The message sent to the world was clear: come with your dollars, but not with your flags, unless you come from the right country.

Fundamental sporting rights violated: a dangerous precedent

When a FIFA ticket no longer guarantees access to the stadium

One of the founding principles of the Olympic movement and international football is the universality of access: teams participate in tournaments regardless of political tensions, and supporters can follow their teams. The Olympic Charter protects this principle in the Games. FIFA, however, has no equivalent binding mechanism. What this World Cup reveals is the existence of an abysmal legal vacuum: a global sports organization can award a tournament to a country without requiring firm contractual guarantees concerning the free access of all participants — supporters, referees, officials — regardless of nationality.

The situation of Omar Artan is, from this perspective, particularly grave in its implications. A referee officially designated by FIFA, carrying all required accreditations, can be turned away at the border by a host state. If this logic is accepted, it means a host power could theoretically exclude any official from any nation deemed undesirable. This is a precedent that the West's adversaries could use if Russia, China, or a Gulf country ever hosts another major international sporting tournament. We will then have abdicated all moral authority to protest.

Congo and Uganda: Ebola gatecrashes the party

The list of obstacles is not limited to the Trump administration's immigration policies. Congolese fans were unable to travel to Houston to support the Democratic Republic of Congo during its historic match against Portugal (a spectacular 1-1 draw), due to Ebola-related health restrictions imposed by the US CDC. Here, the restrictions are not immigration-based but health-based, and they may be harder to contest diplomatically. But the result is identical: a nation qualifying for the first time plays its first World Cup match before stands devoid of its own direct supporters.

The North-South divide: who can actually watch football in person?

The passport as the criterion of access to world culture

This World Cup reveals, with surgical clarity, a reality many prefer to ignore: the freedom to move around the world depends fundamentally on the passport one holds. A Swedish, German, or Japanese passport is a universal key. An Algerian, Ghanaian, or Jordanian passport is an obstacle to be surmounted at every border. This fundamental inequality was not born with Trump — it existed long before. But the combination of a tournament hosted in the United States and a particularly restrictive immigration policy transformed this underlying reality into a public scandal at the forefront of global news.

Yarelis Méndez-Zamora, policy coordinator of the American Friends Service Committee, put her finger on the essence of the problem: "If a FIFA-selected referee with a valid visa can be denied entry upon arrival in Miami, what message does that send to millions of fans, families, and visitors from around the world who were considering traveling to the United States? To host an event of this magnitude, one must be a welcoming host." That is stated with disarming sobriety. And it is precisely right.

The diaspora as a substitute solution

Inside American stadiums, solidarity found its own responses. Members of African, Middle Eastern, and Caribbean diaspora communities settled in the United States donned their national team shirts to compensate for the absence of direct supporters. Senegalese from Brooklyn, Cape Verdeans from New England, Iranians from Los Angeles formed bastions of atmosphere in stands that would otherwise have been filled only with neutral spectators. It is beautiful. But it is not a solution. The diaspora does not replace the people.

The belated concessions: too little, too late

The FIFA Pass and the May 2026 easing measures

It would be inaccurate to claim the American government made no effort. In May 2026, the Trump administration removed the 15,000-dollar refundable bond requirement for nationals of five countries — including Cape Verde — who held match tickets. The FIFA PASS system was set up to expedite consular appointments. Exemptions were granted to players' families. Marco Rubio personally facilitated the processing of Vozinha's mother's case after Hakeem Jeffries' intervention. These gestures had a real impact for a limited number of people.

But the underlying problem was not resolved. The lifting of the bond in May 2026 required having already bought tickets before knowing whether one could obtain a visa. The consular processing timetable was so overloaded that even expedited appointments through FIFA PASS sometimes arrived after the match dates concerned. And nationals of the 39 countries under total or partial immigration restrictions remained excluded from the system, regardless of the efficiency of the FIFA PASS process. The underlying policy — the 39 countries, the refusal rates, the enhanced controls — did not shift an inch.

The assessment: half-measures for a whole problem

The Trump administration chose an approach that could be called "individual exception without structural reform." When a case became sufficiently media-worthy — Omar Artan, Vozinha, Senegalese fans — ad hoc solutions were found, sometimes effectively. But the underlying structure remains intact. There was no prior negotiation with FIFA to guarantee minimum access conditions. There was no temporary exception for the tournament within immigration restriction policies. There was no systemic measure allowing supporters of qualified nations to plan their trip with reasonable certainty of obtaining their visa. What the administration offered was media crisis management, not genuine sports policy.

Conclusion: America can still save face — but it will take more than exceptions

A clear signal for future hosts

The 2026 World Cup is still ongoing. Matches remain, beautiful moments, sporting surprises. But the immigration record of this first phase is a warning that the international sports community must not ignore. The next awards of major competitions — the 2030 World Cup, the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics — deserve to incorporate contractual clauses guaranteeing free access for supporters, officials, and journalists, regardless of nationality. Without these guarantees written into the organizational contracts, we will experience more Vozinhas, more Omar Artans, more families stranded in front of a television screen thousands of miles from their dream.

Trump, the tournament, and the price of Western coherence

It is possible to defend secure borders and welcome the world. These two objectives are not contradictory — except when immigration policies are applied with a bureaucratic rigidity entirely disconnected from the sporting and diplomatic context. The Trump administration obtained some useful concessions, managed certain cases effectively when media pressure was sufficient. But it left thousands of supporters without answers, humiliated an exemplary referee, forced a national team to live in a foreign country to participate in a tournament the United States is hosting. The West defines itself by its values of openness, fair play, and meritocracy. This World Cup sent the world a contrary signal. It is not too late to correct course — but time is running short.

Signed Maxime Marquette, columnist

Sources

Primary sources

The Guardian — Cape Verde goalkeeper Vozinha's mother obtains a visa for the World Cup — June 17, 2026

BBC Sport — World Cup 2026: Iran to file complaint with FIFA over travel restrictions — June 19, 2026

TBS News — Omar Artan rejects FIFA payout after visa denial: "I didn't want compensation, I wanted to referee the World Cup" — June 21, 2026

Secondary sources

El País (English edition) — World Cup becomes focal point in debate over Trump's immigration policy — June 17, 2026

Ground News / BBC — Moroccan fans excluded from the 2026 World Cup after mass US visa denials — June 20, 2026

The Star / Reuters — Immigrants and international supporters step in as Senegalese fans are stuck at home — June 17, 2026

Boston Globe — Immigration restrictions shut the door on World Cup fans — June 19, 2026

ABC7 Los Angeles — 15 Iranian football federation members denied US visas before opening match — June 22, 2026