11.06.2026

Beautiful game, ugly bans

It is clear that America is in charge. Fans and officials from more than a quarter of the countries participating in the World Cup face ticket cancellations, visa rejections and debilitating restrictions. So much for the internationalism of FIFA and the sporting spirit, writes Carl Collins

With the Iranian squad only allowed to enter the United States on the day of its matches, we now learn that members of its support staff have been denied visas. This includes “a large portion of the managerial and executive staff, technical advisers, and others who are an integral part of any national football team” according to the Iranian authorities. Some dozen people in total.

Already Iran has found its entire ticket allocation for supporters cancelled and, of course, Iran is not the only country on the receiving end of US restrictions and bans. We all know about the South African team, Breel Embolo’s troubles and that Somalian referee, Omar Artan.

FIFA and football’s other governing bodies present the ‘beautiful game’ as a unifying force that transcends borders and politics, yet the visa disputes demonstrate how the movement of human beings remains subject to the interests of states, hierarchies of global power and the selective openness of the modern world.

Although we have become accustomed to Donald Trump’s theatrical - often apparently absurd - posturing on the stage of international diplomacy, the significance of these restrictions extends far beyond the latest episode in US-Iranian tensions. The controversy raises broader questions about who is free to move in the modern world, who controls that movement, and whether global sport can genuinely claim to transcend politics, when its most prestigious competitions remain subject to the logic of geopolitical power.

From a Marxist perspective, the issue is not simply one of inconsistency or hypocrisy. In the abstract, capitalism depends upon the international mobility of capital, investment and commodities (an ideal promoted by the likes of Adam Smith, but noticeably violated by rising powers such as late 19th century America and Germany). Meanwhile, especially in the age of universal suffrage and the so-called welfare state, the movement of labour tends to be restricted, controlled … and instrumentalised by a conservative right that needs the votes of the hoi polloi.

Prehistory

As a global capitalist industry, modern football is dependent upon an international market of players. Not the case historically. Note, the English Football Association effectively banned foreign professionals in 1930 by imposing a strict two-year residential requirement on them. Labour minister, Margaret Bondfield, Britain’s first female cabinet minister, announced the measure in the midst of the Great Depression in the name of protecting British jobs for British football players. The FA agreed, stating that it was “not in favour of granting permission to alien players to be brought into this country.”

A year later, in 1931, the International Football Association Board, made up of the four ‘home nations’ - and the effective rule-makers of the game - went even further and wrote the ban into law: “A professional player who is not a British born subject is not eligible to take part in any competition under the jurisdiction of the Association unless he possesses two years residential qualification within the jurisdiction of this Association”. This came in the wake of anti-immigration legislation in 1905 and 1914 and was therefore part of a bigger picture.

Not that there were big numbers of foreign players in the English league. Gordon Hodgson, Walter Bowam, Niles Middleboe and Max Seeburg come to mind. They were not born in Britain … but were very much the exception.

Interestingly, the most famous player who fell victim to the restrictive practices was Rudolf ‘Rudi’ Hiden, the Austrian international goalkeeper. Hiden had starred for the Austrian national team which had drawn 0-0 with England in May 1930 in front of 55,000 Austrian supports in Vienna. A stunning result for English football which regarded itself as the only country that could effectively play the game (English managers were highly rated and did much to spread football internationally).

Hiden tended to use his feet and was completely unused to the English habit of barging the goalkeeper - something frowned upon on the continent. However, he was quick, athletic ... and displayed the sportsmanship expected at the time by English managers, teams and crowds.

Arsenal manager, Herbert Chapman, offered Hiden’s club, Weiner AC, £2,500 for him - a fortune at the time. However, the transfer never went through. Hiden found himself barred by immigration officials at Dover after they had consulted the Department of Labour. They insisted that Hiden had no right to work in Britain. Hiden had been a baker by trade in his native Vienna, and apparently Arsenal had gone so far as to arrange a job for him as a chef in London, while also being paid on the books by Arsenal. This cut no ice with the immigration officials, and his move to Arsenal never happened.

Hiden, however, did get his move abroad, winning a league and cup with French side, Racing Club de Paris, in the 30s. He was also part of the Austrian side that trounced Scotland 5-0 in Vienna less than a year after his Arsenal debacle.¹

The restriction was finally lifted in 1978, following legal challenges facilitated by the UK joining the European Economic Community. Member states were expected to allow the free movement of labour. Nonetheless, despite that, there are still restrictions in force: eg, teams are meant to have a certain number of ‘homegrown’ players (a minimum of eight out of a squad of 25).

Geopolitical

When it comes to the World Cup, the official US justification for the visa refusals mainly rests on ‘national security’ concerns. US authorities possess broad discretionary powers to deny entry to foreign nationals, particularly those from countries regarded as adversaries. Under section 212(f) of the Immigration and Nationality Act, for example, the president may suspend or restrict the entry of non-citizens deemed “detrimental to US interests”.²

Of course, this not only plays into Trump’s chauvinistic playbook. It makes a mockery of FIFA’s commitment to internationalism and its claim to champion fair play. Excluding physiotherapists, coaches and analysts can only but effect performance. Their absence must have direct sporting consequences.

Major tournaments are also important sites of elite networking and diplomacy within the modern game. Football Association officials attend FIFA functions, meet counterparts from other federations, discuss future cooperation and represent their organisations within football’s governing structures. Exclusion therefore carries consequences beyond the pitch, limiting participation in the wider institutional relationships that increasingly shape the sport.

The restrictions imposed upon Iran extend far beyond the refusal of visas to a dozen members of its delegation. The US-imposed conditions on the team itself are unprecedented in World Cup history. Rather than establishing a training base within the main host country, Iran has been forced to prepare in Tijuana, Mexico.

Given that Iran’s three group matches see them kick-off against New Zealand in Los Angeles, this is a huge problem. They will have to fly in on the day and then leave the country within 24 hours. The same goes for their two other games. Six days after Los Angeles, Iran is due once again in California, this time to play Belgium, and their last qualifying game is against Egypt in Seattle … with the possibility of more games if they make it to the knockouts. Exhausting.

The practical consequences are considerable. Modern international football is organised around carefully managed preparation schedules. World Cup teams would ordinarily arrive in host cities well in advance of fixtures and complete final preparations under stable conditions. Iran, by contrast, will play with a politically imposed handicap. A symbol of broader geopolitical conflict.

Three countries

The 2026 World Cup, hosted jointly by the United States, Canada and Mexico, was always likely to encounter geopolitical complications. FIFA’s expansion of the tournament to 48 teams was presented as a celebration of football’s global reach. More nations would participate than ever before; more supporters would travel; more cultures would be represented.

Yet more than a quarter of the countries participating in the tournament face travel bans, heightened restrictions or unusually high visa rejection rates. The issue extends well beyond Iran. Supporters from across Africa, Asia and parts of the Middle East face barriers that many fans from wealthier western states do not encounter. As Julien Kouadio Adonis of the Ivory Coast supporters’ association asked, “No European country has faced this kind of restriction, so why Africa?”

His question points towards a reality often obscured by official rhetoric. Access to mobility is distributed unequally across the global order. Citizens of powerful states generally encounter fewer restrictions than those positioned lower within the international hierarchy. The geography of visa controls mirrors broader inequalities produced by colonialism, imperialism and uneven economic development.

Awarding hosting rights to states that retain sovereign control over immigration policy inevitably creates tensions between FIFA’s rhetoric and the realities of state power. While football presents itself as a universal game, it operates within a world system shaped by capitalist competition, geopolitical struggle and imperialist rivalry. The same global order that encourages the movement of money, investment and commercial activity continues to restrict the movement of people.

Host governments normally sign agreements facilitating entry for players, officials and media. These arrangements, however, derive from state authority, not FIFA. The organisation can regulate player registrations and disciplinary procedures, but it cannot compel sovereign states to issue visas.

Consequently, when US officials claim they will not allow the Iranian delegation to exploit the tournament to enter the country under false pretences, FIFA possesses no meaningful power to intervene. The dispute ultimately reflects the balance of forces between states rather than the wishes of football’s governing institutions.

The US has maintained extensive sanctions against Iran for decades. Successive administrations, Republican and Democrat alike, have treated Iran as a strategic adversary in the Middle East. Against that backdrop, the idea that sporting participants could somehow exist outside broader geopolitical conflict was always an illusion.

This is also why the controversy cannot be understood simply as a disagreement between Washington and Tehran. It is a product of geopolitical struggle between states and, more broadly, the rivalries and interventions of imperialist powers. Individuals become caught within conflicts they neither initiated nor control, their freedom of movement determined by strategic calculations made elsewhere. The issue is not fundamentally about football administration or even security. It is about the way global capitalism and the state system organise mobility according to political and economic interests.

FIFA frequently insists that football should remain separate from politics. But this claim has always been highly selective. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Russian clubs and national teams were rapidly suspended from FIFA and UEFA competitions. Yet, despite growing international criticism of Israel’s conduct in Gaza and repeated calls for comparable measures, Israel continues to participate normally within international football structures. Decisions presented as neutral sporting administration inevitably reflect existing political power.

Of course, Israel was officially eliminated during the UEFA qualification stages. They competed in Group I against Norway, Italy, Estonia, and Moldova, finishing third and missing out on both the direct qualification spots and the playoffs. Israel plays as a European team simply because it is unwelcome in the Middle East and North African region (represented by eight teams: Algeria, Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, Morocco, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Tunisia). If it had got through, it would have been a real nightmare for FIFA. One can imagine calls for boycotts and, failing that, huge crowd protests, especially in Mexico. At the same time FIFA has been doing everything it can to ingratiate itself with Donald Trump. Late last year Gianni Infantino awarded him the ‘FIFA Peace Prize - Football Unites the World.’ A second-rate substitute for failing to get the Nobel Peace Prize.

The claim that football ‘unites the world’ and transcends politics therefore means something much narrower: that certain political questions should not interfere with the smooth operation of football’s commercial machinery.

That becomes even clearer, when considering football as an industry that generates revenues of between $50 and $60 billion, what with the international markets in advertising, merchandise, broadcasting rights and transfers. Players, of course, move across continents. Whether or not the buying and selling of players can be called a ‘labour market’ is a moot point. At the lowest level, maybe. But at the top we are dealing with multimillionaires who live a film star life. They are their own businesses/merchants in their own right and can generate incomes of between $40m and $300m annually from combined salaries, bonuses, and commercial endorsements.

Eg, Cristiano Ronaldo (Al Nassr), $235m playing contract, $65m endorsements; Lionel Messi (Inter Miami), $70m salary/club revenue cut, $70m endorsements; Karim Benzema (Al-Ittihad), $100m salary, $4m endorsements; Kylian Mbappé (Real Madrid), $70m salary, $25m endorsements; Erling Haaland (Manchester City), $60m salary, $20m endorsements; Vinícius Júnior (Real Madrid), $40m salary, $20m endorsements; Mohamed Salah (Liverpool) $35m salary, $20m endorsements; Sadio Mané (Al-Na,ssr), $50m salary, $4M endorsements; Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid), $29m salary, $15m endorsements; Lamine Yamal (Barcelona), $33m salary, $10m endorsements.

It is hard to regard such people as members of the working class who sell their labour power. It is the same with coaches: Diego Simeone (Atlético Madrid), $33.5-37m; Pep Guardiola (Manchester City), $23.8-26.8m; Mikel Arteta (Arsenal), $15-20.2m; Carlo Ancelotti (Real Madrid/Brazil NT), $10.7-11.3m. Top coaches often work far from their countries of birth. Scouts, analysts and medical staff circulate internationally too. And, of course, football’s governing bodies celebrate this mobility as evidence of the sport’s international character.

Free movement

Yet that freedom proves remarkably conditional. The globalisation of capital has never been matched by a comparable freedom for workers. Capital requires access to international markets, resources and labour, but states retain extensive powers to regulate the movement of human beings. The result is a system in which mobility is encouraged when it facilitates accumulation and restricted when it conflicts with political or strategic interests.

When wealthy European clubs recruit talent from Africa or South America, football celebrates globalisation. When billionaire owners move capital across borders to acquire clubs, football applauds international investment. But when tensions emerge between states, supposedly universal principles of openness quickly give way to border controls, security concerns and diplomatic calculations.

This reveals a deeper truth about freedom of movement under capitalism. Contrary to the rhetoric of globalisation, people do not move freely. Movement is organised according to power, wealth and political interest.

The same governments that speak enthusiastically about open markets often impose increasingly restrictive immigration controls on workers, refugees and the poor. A billionaire can purchase property abroad, acquire residency rights through investment schemes and travel internationally with relative ease. Transnational corporations move money around the globe at the touch of a button. Migrants fleeing poverty, war or climate catastrophe encounter walls, detention centres, deportations, hostile bureaucracies … and xenophobic hate campaigns.

What appears as a defence of borders is therefore better understood as a form of chauvinism that accepts mobility for the powerful, while denying it to those with less wealth, fewer opportunities or the misfortune of being born in the ‘wrong place’.

Football also occasionally exposes the arbitrary nature of these restrictions. Following the collapse of the Afghan government in 2021, a number of Afghan footballers and athletes used opportunities created through international sporting networks to seek asylum abroad. Football provided access to forms of mobility and protection unavailable to millions of other Afghans facing similar dangers. Their movement was not granted according to any universal right, but because of their connection to an internationally recognised institution.

The visa restrictions imposed upon Iranian staff expose another dimension of the same phenomenon. Here the issue is not class in the narrow economic sense, but geopolitical hierarchy. Access to movement is determined not simply by wealth, but by the relationship between states within the global order. Citizens of powerful allied countries generally encounter fewer obstacles. Citizens of states designated as adversaries encounter more.

Divided by borders

The idea of an Iranian physiotherapist as a potential terrorist mastermind is more than merely ridiculous. The absurdity lies not simply in the allegation, but in the assumptions that make such decisions possible. Somewhere within the machinery of modern geopolitics, a man whose primary occupation may involve treating hamstring injuries (although, say, the Iranian physiotherapist is actually a very experienced, highly qualified professional) becomes a ‘security concern’ - not because of anything he has done, but because he belongs to the wrong nation at the wrong moment in history.

If football genuinely belongs to the world, participation cannot depend upon the shifting strategic priorities of powerful states, chauvinism, nationalism or class interest. If international sport is to represent something more than a commercial spectacle, it must confront the realities of exclusion that continue to shape the movement of people across borders.

The refusal of visas to Iranian support staff, and the extraordinary restrictions imposed upon the team itself, do not merely affect one participant state. They expose the fragility of the universal ideals football’s governing institutions so frequently invoke. The World Cup is often described as a ‘celebration of humanity, united through sport’. The Iranian controversy serves as a reminder that humanity remains divided by borders, power and unequal access to movement.

Until those realities are addressed, the promise that football transcends politics will remain precisely that: a promise rather than a fact.

1. abohemiansportinglife.com/2018/10/31/a-legal-alien-foreign-footballers-in-early-20th-century-britain.↩︎

2. ‘Understanding INA’, section 212(f): ‘The president’s authority to suspend the entry of migrants’ - American Immigration Council.↩︎