The 2026 FIFA World Cup, which will be co-hosted across the United States, Canada, and Mexico, was billed as football's most welcoming tournament yet. By expanding the competition from 32 to 48 teams, FIFA created opportunities for smaller nations to compete on the world's biggest sporting stage. Yet human rights organisations are now challenging the governing body's inclusivity narrative, pointing to a harsh contradiction: while the turnstiles opened wider for participating nations, the gates to the host country itself remained firmly closed for many supporters and workers.
The Sport & Rights Alliance, a coalition of advocacy groups focused on safeguarding rights at major sporting events, has documented systematic visa denials that prevented fans from attending matches despite holding valid tickets. Nations across North Africa, the Middle East, and Central Asia reported particular difficulties. Morocco, Egypt, Jordan, Iraq, and Uzbekistan were among countries where ticket holders struggled to secure US entry visas, according to accounts gathered by the rights coalition. These weren't isolated cases of individual rejections but rather patterns suggesting broader policy barriers that undermined FIFA's stated commitment to welcoming the world.
Ronan Evain, executive director of Football Supporters Europe, articulated the frustration evident among international fan communities. He highlighted the profound gap between FIFA's messaging and ground-level reality, noting that fans from several nations found themselves locked out despite making arrangements months in advance. The contradiction cuts deeper than mere logistical failure—it represents a fundamental disconnect between the tournament's aspirational branding as a unifying global event and the actual experience for many supporters who travelled thousands of miles only to be turned away at the border.
The visa challenges extended beyond ordinary fans to include officials involved in operating the tournament itself. A particularly striking case involved Omar Abdulkadir Artan, a Somali international referee with valid documentation who was barred from entering the United States. The Trump administration cited alleged links to suspected members of terror organisations as justification for denying him entry. The decision raised difficult questions about due process and the use of security concerns to restrict participation by individuals from specific regions, effectively creating a secondary layer of exclusion beyond standard immigration procedures.
FIFA leadership acknowledged that immigration decisions ultimately rest with national governments rather than the federation itself. President Gianni Infantino attempted to frame the situation as beyond FIFA's control, issuing a somewhat dismissive call for acceptance on the eve of matches. However, this position rings hollow given FIFA's ability to negotiate hosting arrangements and its stated commitment to inclusivity. The federation had leverage to advocate for streamlined visa processes for ticketholders and tournament personnel, yet such advocacy appears not to have materialised in any meaningful way.
US Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin defended the visa denials, claiming his department had coordinated with FIFA officials beforehand. This assertion suggests that the restrictive approach was not a surprise but rather an understood framework going into the tournament. If immigration officials and FIFA were communicating, the governing body's public promises about creating an inclusive environment seem particularly disconnected from what it knew would be the actual experience for international attendees.
The geographic impact of these policies created visible disparities in stadium attendance. Countries that faced systematic visa suspensions, such as Senegal, were severely underrepresented in the stands during their matches. This dynamic transformed what should have been carnival-like atmospheres for nations experiencing rare World Cup opportunities into muted affairs, with home support dramatically outnumbered. The psychological impact on players and fans alike cannot be understated—the absence of supporters fundamentally alters the experience of international competition.
Human Rights Watch and other organisations raised concerns well before kickoff that the tournament was unfolding within what they characterised as a distinctly dangerous climate of fear. This atmosphere stemmed directly from broader immigration enforcement policies active during the relevant period. Rights advocates warned that journalists and fans faced unpredictable treatment, with decisions about entry seemingly subject to shifting criteria and individual discretion. Such uncertainty deterred attendance among those already concerned about immigration complications.
Despite these shadows, the tournament did achieve genuine moments of inclusivity and celebration. Haiti's participation marked the nation's first World Cup appearance in 52 years, generating profound joy within diaspora communities and at home. Cape Verde's unexpected competitive performance captured global imagination as a Cinderella story. Pride celebrations in Seattle and elsewhere demonstrated that progressive values could find expression even within the tournament's framework. These successes, however, do not erase the systematic exclusions that prevented countless supporters from witnessing their nations' historic moments.
The Sport & Rights Alliance plans to release a comprehensive report in September that will provide detailed documentation of human rights issues throughout the tournament. This forthcoming analysis promises to offer data-backed evidence of how immigration restrictions, visa denials, and security protocols affected various populations. For Malaysia and other Southeast Asian nations, such documentation carries particular relevance, as the region's citizens have historically faced visa complications when travelling to the United States.
The 2026 World Cup's mixed record on inclusivity offers important lessons for FIFA and future hosts. Genuine inclusivity requires not just expanding competition participation but ensuring that the infrastructure surrounding the event—visa policies, security protocols, and border management—aligns with stated values. When host nations maintain restrictive entry policies that disproportionately affect specific regions or populations, the tournament becomes an exercise in selective welcome rather than genuine global celebration.
For Southeast Asian supporters and athletes, this episode underscores the need for clarity about visa expectations well before major international events. It also highlights how sporting governance intersects with broader immigration and security frameworks that extend far beyond football. As FIFA continues planning for future tournaments, pressure from rights organisations and fan communities will likely intensify regarding the obligation to negotiate entry conditions that match the federation's inclusivity rhetoric with actual access.
