Hosting a FIFA World Cup offers notable merits for promoting peace through sports diplomacy and delivering honest, large-scale public entertainment, though these are often aspirational and must be weighed against practical challenges. The "beautiful game" has a long track record as a soft-power tool for dialogue, unity, and shared joy, transcending politics for billions of fans.

Can we disagree about how such world tournaments create neutral spaces for interaction between rivals? Classic examples include the 1998 U.S.-Iran World Cup match, which featured symbolic gestures of goodwill amid tensions, echoing the famous "Ping-Pong Diplomacy." In the Middle East, events like Qatar 2022 highlighted the region's modernity and fostered cultural exchanges. We are conscious of Saudi Arabia's upcoming 2034 hosting bid (and related Vision 2030 efforts). These aim to project openness, attract investment, and support normalization talks (e.g., with Israel). On the surface, such events can act as confidence-building measures in a volatile region.

In fact, we now welcome U.S., Canada, and Mexico members in a 2026 jamboree. All three are under pressure to deliver a cleaner, more transparent tournament. But the scale of 2026, being the biggest World Cup ever, means scrutiny will be intense. The World Cup is returning to North America for the first time since 1994, and as expected, the U.S. is experiencing a rare surge in football fever. Polling shows nearly one-third of U.S. adults plan to watch, a sharp rise from earlier years, and 37% expect their interest in football to grow as the tournament approaches. This is the closest the U.S. has ever come to a genuine football moment, and as can be expected, the media machine is amplifying it.

In fact, nearly half the world is expected to tune in over the coming weeks as the tournament moves towards its final on the outskirts of New York. A viewer might come away with two conclusions. First, that entertainment culture is more globalized than ever. Second, that America remains the soft-power superpower at the centre of it all. It is proverbial how Mexico, hosting for the third time, is leaning into history and spectacle. We note that in Mexico City, the main fest in Zócalo is expected to draw more than 100,000 people daily, blending football with national identity, cuisine, and cultural performance.

Readers know and accept that the World Cup spectacle has always been a magnet for money, power, corruption, and geopolitical theatre. The scandals that have tarnished it over the decades are not small missteps; they are sprawling, global sagas involving bribery networks, money laundering, vote-buying, construction deaths, and political manipulation. There have been controversial editions such that FIFA has now completely overhauled the World Cup bidding system after the 2015 corruption scandal. In essence, FIFA is shifting from a secretive, easily manipulated process controlled by a handful of officials to a more transparent, rules-based, and globally scrutinized system. The reforms did not eliminate politics, but they fundamentally changed who decides, how decisions are made, and what information must be public.

Some examples of fraud include the building of stadiums in Manaus and Brasília. Here, billions were spent on stadiums that became white elephants after investigations revealed inflated contracts, kickbacks, and construction fraud. Unfortunately, following massive street protests that erupted over public spending priorities, it became common for "FIFA standard" to be used sarcastically as a slogan for government waste.

Next, we recall how the South Africa 2010 edition was overshadowed by a $10 million "Diaspora Legacy" bribe. Nothing stated above compares with persistent allegations that Russia engaged in vote-buying during the bidding process. The tell-tale signs of corruption were persistent when Russia claimed its bidding computers were "destroyed," preventing investigators from accessing data. Political tensions over Crimea and sanctions added a geopolitical shadow.

Not to be outshined, the South Africa edition also faced scrutiny when U.S. prosecutors alleged it paid $10 million to CONCACAF officials, including Jack Warner, to secure votes. South Africa denied wrongdoing, calling it a "development payment."

Next in line comes the sun-drenched Qatar award for its World Cup edition. There were strong allegations that Qatar bought votes from FIFA officials to win hosting rights. News emerged about forced labour, passport confiscation, and unsafe working conditions. This resulted in over 6,500 migrant worker deaths being reported by major newspapers since Qatar began rapidly building World Cup infrastructure. Qatar still disputes the number.

Back to Europe, German media uncovered a €6.7 million slush fund allegedly used to buy votes. National hero Franz Beckenbauer was implicated. In the end, investigations were inconclusive, but the reputational damage was severe. Observers may stop to question how such scandals sparked a global debate about whether the World Cup should be awarded to countries with poor human-rights records.

At last, redemption has taken the front seat as FIFA completely overhauled the World Cup bidding system after the 2015 corruption scandal. This major reform shifted it from a secretive, easily manipulated process controlled by a handful of officials to a more transparent, rules-based, and globally scrutinized system. The reforms did not eliminate politics, but they fundamentally changed who decides, how decisions are made, and what information must be public.

For decades, World Cup hosts were chosen by the FIFA Executive Committee, just 24 men who operated behind closed doors, so this tiny group was potentially the perfect environment for bribery, vote-trading, and political deals. Following an FBI-led corruption crackdown, FIFA replaced the system. Every one of the 211 national country representatives gets one vote, and all votes are published rather than kept secret. This means journalists, NGOs, and rival bidders can scrutinize them.

Bidders must now submit human-rights risk assessments, plans to protect workers, guarantees on anti-discrimination, and mechanisms for monitoring abuses.

In conclusion, past investigations into the 2018 and 2022 World Cup bidding processes revealed entrenched corruption, with bribes used to influence votes and secure hosting rights. In summary, football tournaments do not resolve deep geopolitical issues, but when fairly organized, they can humanize "the other side" and create fleeting goodwill.