The United States, by obstructing the entry of the national football teams of Iran and South Africa on political grounds, has called into question the legitimacy of its own hosting role.
On May 31, 2026, the charter flight carrying South Africa’s national football team never took off from Johannesburg. At least 20 players and staff members, despite months of effort, had failed to obtain transit visas to pass through U.S. territory. The country’s sports minister stated bluntly: “We are being dribbled past.” This is not the first time that the U.S. visa bureaucracy has plunged into crisis on the eve of a major international event. This time, however, the crisis has ensnared not a peripheral state, but one of the West’s traditional partners—a democratic government with a long record of close cooperation with Washington. In recent years, South Africa has adopted a position unpalatable to the United States by filing a case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ). Elsewhere, Iran’s national team has likewise been unable for weeks to secure entry visas to the United States and has been forced to relocate its training camp to Tijuana, Mexico. The visa crisis surrounding the 2026 World Cup is not merely an instance of administrative dysfunction; it is a sign of the erosion of the United States’ moral and political legitimacy to host global events—a trend that, particularly under the policies of the Trump administration, has increasingly exposed the gap between America’s declared values and its actual conduct.
The U.S. treatment of South Africa’s national team demonstrates that visas have become a tool for punishing “disobedient” countries. South Africa submitted its complaint against Israel to the ICJ in December 2023 and has since become a focal point of criticism from Washington.
The United States not only labeled the case “baseless,” but had previously sanctioned ICJ judges as well. Now, on the eve of the World Cup, the country’s national team faces an unprecedented obstacle. South Africa’s sports minister used the word “unfair,” though one could go further and describe it as “political retaliation through administrative instruments.” When the United States, as host of the world’s largest sporting event, creates the impression that visas can be weaponized for political pressure, the greatest damage falls not on others but on America’s own credibility—and on its longstanding claim regarding the neutrality of international institutions.
In Iran’s case, the issue extends beyond political disagreements or diplomatic disputes. The joint U.S.-Israeli attacks in recent months did not merely target Iran’s military infrastructure; they also affected the realm of sports—from damage inflicted on sports complexes and facilities to the deaths of athletes and members of Iran’s sporting community during the course of the war. This reality itself raises a fundamental question about Washington’s moral legitimacy as host of the world’s largest sporting event. For many Americans as well, the question arises: how can a country engaged in military conflict with Iran serve, without political suspicion, as the neutral host for that same country at the world’s premier sporting event? When this record is coupled with visa delays, administrative restrictions, and political statements by U.S. officials regarding Iran’s participation, the matter ceases to be a mere bureaucratic dispute. Instead, it becomes a symbol of the gap between claims of sporting neutrality and the political reality of the host’s conduct—a gap that, above all else, calls America’s moral authority to host such an event into question.
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The situation facing Iran’s national football team demonstrates that even voluntarily relocating a training camp outside the host country’s territory does not eliminate political obstacles imposed by the United States. On May 25, 2026, FIFA confirmed that Iran had moved its training camp from Tucson, Arizona, to Tijuana, Mexico. Nevertheless, all three of Iran’s group-stage matches are scheduled to take place inside the United States—and this is precisely where the host country’s obstruction becomes apparent.
Mehdi Taj, president of Iran’s football federation, previously had his visa revoked while already aboard an aircraft—on the grounds of his past association with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).
Donald Trump, the U.S. president, openly stated that Iran’s presence was not appropriate “for their own safety.” Under FIFA statutes, any discrimination based on political or national origin is prohibited, yet FIFA has remained silent in the face of this behavior.
One might argue that the United States has the sovereign right to restrict entry for citizens of certain countries based on security concerns. At first glance, this argument appears reasonable. Every sovereign state possesses authority to safeguard its internal security. Yet two points undermine this argument. First, in the case of South Africa, no evidence or credible indication has been presented suggesting that the country poses a security threat; therefore, invoking security considerations to limit entry for its citizens appears baseless. Second, regarding Iran, if security concerns were genuinely serious, why did FIFA and the host country not propose alternatives, such as staging Iran’s matches in a third country? The insistence on keeping the matches on U.S. soil while visa uncertainties remain unresolved creates the impression that political considerations have played at least as large a role as security concerns in these decisions. Moreover, warnings issued by U.S. civil society organizations—such as the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU)—suggest that the greatest threat facing foreign visitors is not terrorism, but the conduct of the U.S. government itself, including arbitrary detention and deportation. Thus, the claim of “security considerations” appears to be little more than a cover for politicization and discrimination.
The legitimacy crisis surrounding America’s hosting role is not confined to developments beyond its borders; within the United States itself, there exists a profound gap between reality and media representation.
On April 23, 2026, a coalition of more than 100 organizations—including the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP)—issued a travel warning. The advisory cautioned foreign supporters that they could face “arbitrary detention, deportation, and inhumane treatment” in the United States.
This warning, voiced by American civil institutions themselves, suggests that the greatest obstacle to holding a safe and fair event is not external actors but the discriminatory and coercive practices of the U.S. government. When America’s most prominent civil institutions warn about the treatment of foreign visitors, an unavoidable question emerges: does the United States still uphold for itself the same standards it demands of others?
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South Africa’s national team remained stranded at Johannesburg airport. Iran’s national team, despite relocating its camp to Mexico, still lacks clarity regarding the visa process required to enter the United States for its matches. Dozens of American civil society organizations are warning foreign fans that they face the risk of detention and deportation. These scenes depict a host that has lost its legitimacy before the World Cup has even begun.
What lies beneath this crisis is more than administrative dysfunction; it is a sign of the decline of America’s moral authority on the global stage. When the host of the world’s largest sporting event transforms visas into an instrument of political punishment (South Africa for filing a case against Israel) and continues obstructing a team that has already established its training camp outside the host country (Iran), one can no longer credibly speak of a “rules-based international order.” The silence of international sporting institutions in the face of these contradictions also raises concerns that political calculations and state power exert greater influence over decision-making than declared principles.
The 2026 World Cup has not yet begun, but its message to the world is already clear: hosting legitimacy is not conferred solely by FIFA certifications; it is earned through fair treatment of all teams and adherence to principles of neutrality.
The United States has secured the right to host the World Cup, but the right to host is not synonymous with the legitimacy to host. If the current trajectory continues, what will suffer is not the staging of the tournament, but America’s international credibility.
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