The independent media outfit Zeteo recently dropped a documentary series probing the century-long bromance between FIFA and the world’s most enthusiastic authoritarians. It is a commendable piece of journalism, the kind that makes the corporate communications department in Zurich choke on their morning espressos. But while Zeteo accurately identified the phenomenon of “sportswashing” looming over this tournament, they gave the current occupant of the White House entirely too much credit for subtlety. To call what the United States is doing “sportswashing” is to fundamentally misunderstand the nature of the crime.

Sportswashing, by definition, requires a soap. It implies a certain degree of shame, a desperate desire to scrub the bloodstains off the national brand and replace them with something palatable. When Qatar spent 200 billion dollars building air-conditioned monuments to capitalism in the desert, they were buying a global smile. When Saudi Arabia buys up golf tours and fills its domestic league with aging European superstars, it is attempting a high-priced cosmetic makeover. They want you to look at the trophy, not the dissident in the prison cell. They are, at least, trying to wash.

The Trump administration, however, isn’t using a soap. They’ve brought a pressure washer, filled the tank with liquid arrogance, and are currently spraying dirt directly into the eyes of the global community. They aren’t hiding their atrocities beneath the lush green grass of MetLife Stadium; they are flaunting them. This isn’t sportswashing. It’s a geopolitical power-flex.

Let’s look at the facts that the “suits” in Zurich would prefer you ignore while you marvel at the 4K slow-motion replays. As 104 matches prepare to kick off across North America, the primary host nation is actively engaged in an illegal war in Iran under the banner of “Operation Epic Fury.” We are not talking about a minor diplomatic skirmish; we are talking about a relentless, localised blitzkrieg. In the opening week of the campaign alone, the U.S. and its partners have struck over 3,000 targets, raining bombs with the casual air of a man swatting a fly. The devastation is not a “surgical” abstraction; it is a bloodbath. The Iranian Red Crescent—hardly a political organ—has counted a staggering 1,825 dead, the overwhelming majority of whom were civilians. Just weeks ago, a “precision strike” pulverised a girls’ school near Bandar Abbas, claiming 170 lives in the span of a single afternoon.

In any civilised era of football, this would trigger an immediate, unconditional expulsion from the global community. When Vladimir Putin crossed the Ukrainian border in 2022, FIFA found its spine with remarkable speed, booting Russia out of the World Cup qualifiers before the ink on the invasion orders was even dry. The “neutrality” mask was dropped because, apparently, invading a neighbour is where FIFA draws the line. But when the United States flattens a sovereign nation’s infrastructure, Gianni Infantino flies to Washington, grins like a lottery winner, and hands the President the inaugural “FIFA Peace Prize.” It is a level of institutional sycophancy that would be rejected by a badly written political satire. Awarding a Peace Prize to a leader currently engaged in active combat is like giving a fire safety award to an arsonist while the curtains are still smouldering. And the horror isn’t confined to foreign shores. While American bombs fall on the Middle East, the administration continues to abet what the International Court of Justice has warned is a plausible genocide in Gaza, ensuring the veto pens and munitions pipelines remain well-oiled. We have a White House openly flirting with the annexation of Greenland and treating Canada like a wayward 51st state. If territorial sovereignty is the metric, then the US isn’t just flirting with the line; it’s treated it like a finishing tape in a 100-meter dash.

If you think the rot stops at the foreign policy desk, take a look at the domestic front. The #BoycottUSA2026 coalition has repeatedly sounded the alarm over what has become the deadliest year in Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) history, with 32 human beings dying in federal custody like discarded inventory. The administration’s response to concerns that international fans might be caught in this domestic dragnet? A flat, unapologetic refusal to guarantee that ICE tactical units won’t be hovering around the stadium turnstiles.

Think about the sheer, unadulterated hubris required to pull this off. A sportswashing nation would create an oasis of temporary tolerance. They would open the borders, relax the visas, and put on a polite face for the international press corps. The U.S. has done the exact opposite. They’ve slapped visa bans on fans from Senegal and Iran like they’re unwanted guests at a suburban gala, forced the Iranian national squad to set up their base camp across the border in Tijuana due to visa restrictions, and left international journalists wondering if a critical tweet will earn them an interrogation by federal agents. Imagine, if you will, a fan from Dakar or Tehran—having already survived the Herculean task of securing a visa—trying to enjoy a quarter-final while ICE tactical units hover near the turnstiles like vultures at a buffet. This isn’t stadium security; it’s a hostile environment by design. By refusing to wall off the tournament from domestic deportation squads, the U.S. has signalled that the World Cup isn’t a festival of sport, but a giant dragnet. It’s the ultimate “sovereignty gambit”—welcoming the world’s money while keeping the handcuffs polished and ready at the gate. Why should a Belgian family or a Scottish supporter fly into a country where “unjust detentions” are the new national pastime? To participate in this tournament is to endorse a host that views international law as a polite suggestion rather than a requirement.

This is why the term “sportswashing” fails to capture the grim reality of 2026. The United States is not trying to convince you that it is a safe, civilised, or peaceful nation. They are demonstrating that they are so powerful, so insulated by their control of global capital and international institutions, that they can commit war crimes abroad and run a surveillance state at home and the world will still show up to play. It is a bloody bully!

It is a textbook schoolyard shakedown. It treats international law not as a standard to be met, but as a polite suggestion intended only for smaller, weaker states. By allowing 78 matches to be played under these conditions, FIFA isn’t just being used; they are actively validating the premise that might makes right.