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For football fans, the FIFA World Cup is so much more than sport. Every four years, it presents a unifying moment – bringing people together across the divides of language, culture and geography in a shared passion for the game.

For hosting nations, the World Cup is often a soft power supercharger. Watched by billions of people around the globe, it is a prime opportunity to showcase one’s country, culture and values.

This is all part of what’s known as sport diplomacy, or in this case “football diplomacy”. Beyond the trophies, governments invest in football to “win” off the pitch, too, in terms of fostering better relations, courting investment and earning global prestige.

There’s no question the United States could use a boost like this at the moment after 18 months of Donald Trump’s polarising leadership.

But, there’s a crucial difference between soft power and spectacle. Early signs suggest the 2026 World Cup will offer more of the latter for Trump’s America – an event that highlights power (not the soft kind) , tribute, exclusion and vested interests.

The soft power of sport

The term “soft power” was coined in the 1990s by Harvard political scientist Joseph Nye Jr. It means a country’s power isn’t just derived from military force or economic weight (otherwise known as “hard power”) , but also in its ability to influence through attraction.

Think South Korea’s K-pop phenomenon, the United Kingdom’s prestigious universities and the Nordic countries’ embrace of sustainability, good governance and progressive values.

In essence, this is the intangible power nations have to get others to sit at your table and consider, perhaps even support, your view of the world.

The concept has since evolved significantly since Nye developed it, and received heavy criticism. Critics are quick to point to its subversive potential, particularly when deployed by authoritarian states with less benign motives.

Political scientists Christopher Walker and Jessica Ludwig have introduced another term, “sharp power”, to describe how states, like Russia and China use their influence not to attract others, but to manipulate them.

Revisiting the topic more recently, Nye himself acknowledged that soft power has become more complicated. He recognises it can be gamed, misread or turned inward in ways that undermine the very openness it depends on.

The distinction is an important one today, reflecting a broader shift in how nations now use culture and spectacle as instruments of self-interest and dominance over others in a zero-sum world.

Trump, Infantino and the 2026 World Cup

Enter Trump and the 2026 World Cup.

With an expanded format of 48 teams playing a record 104 matches in 16 cities across three countries, FIFA President Gianni Infantino has labelled this year’s tournament as the “greatest event that mankind has ever seen”.

Yet, as the tournament begins, it’s already been an opportunity lost from a sports diplomacy and soft power perspective.

For starters, the event should be a celebration of North American partnership among the three hosts, the US, Mexico and Canada. But tensions have been high since the Trump administration imposed 25% tariffs on goods from both Canada and Mexico.

Rather than seek to deescalate in the spirit of unity, Trump instead needled his counterparts in Mexico and Canada, saying the tariffs would make the World Cup “more exciting”, claiming “tension’s a good thing”.

Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s statement on the opening of the World Cup makes only perfunctory reference to the United States.

Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum, meanwhile, did not attend the opening match in Mexico City in solidarity with regular Mexicans who cannot afford the exorbitant ticket prices (set by FIFA) .

The vision of football uniting the world – FIFA’s own stated mantra – has given way to a tournament defined by who gets to participate and who doesn’t.

Professor Jules Boykoff, the author of Red Card: The 2026 World Cup, Sportswashing and the FIFA Greed Machine, describes it as a “massive paradox”:

On one hand, it has more teams than ever participating. On the other hand, because of the policies of the Trump administration, it looks more like a World Cup of exclusion than inclusion.

This goes beyond the soaring ticket prices. Many supporters of nations that qualified from Africa and the Middle East had their visas rejected with no explanation. Visas were rejected for some of the Iranian team’s support staff, too.

And Somali referee Omar Artan was refused entry in Miami, dashing his dreams of being the first Somali official at a World Cup.

To make matters worse, the concerns over the exclusive nature of the tournament so far have been met with shrugs by Infantino, head of FIFA.

When asked about Artan’s situation, Infantino said it was “unfortunate” he was denied entry, but added, “sometimes it’s good to just to chill, relax”.

Infantino also had little to say about US treatment of the Iranian team, which was abruptly moved from its training base in the US across the border to Mexico and saw the tickets for its fans revoked by FIFA at the last minute.

Infantino’s response? He said he would drive the team on a bus himself from Iran to ensure they could play. Just not the team’s fans, apparently.

A stage for self-glorification

Soft power, at its best, works through genuine openness, two-way dialogue and collaboration – building understanding, trust and respect along the way.

During Australia’s hosting of the 2023 Women’s World Cup, for example, Foreign Minister Penny Wong was able to bring global leaders together to take a stand on gender equality and draw attention to the plight of women living under the oppressive Taliban regime in Afghanistan.

But the 2026 Men’s World Cup appears to be offering something else. The stage is set for self-glorification, managed by a political leader who frames division and tension as a basis for entertainment and a governing body too invested in commercial gain to be concerned about the social divisions it is creating.

This is not soft power. But there’s bound to be plenty of spectacle.

Caitlin Byrne has previously advised the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade on the development of the 2030 Sports Diplomacy Strategy and sat as a member of the Australian government’s Ministerial Council on Sports Diplomacy.