The 2026 World Cup hasn't kicked off yet and it's already producing headlines that have nothing to do with football. Trump's immigration crackdown is colliding with the tournament in ways FIFA clearly didn't plan for — and the consequences are falling on players, officials, and referees who simply want to do their jobs.
Thirty-nine countries currently face full or partial US travel bans. Four of them — Haiti, Iran, Senegal, and Côte d'Ivoire — are in the World Cup. The policy isn't hypothetical anymore. It's showing up at O'Hare, in Miami, and at border crossings in Tijuana.
Iran's team is training in Mexico. That says everything.
Iran secured visas for its players, but the conditions attached to them are unlike anything seen at a World Cup. According to the Iranian ambassador to Mexico, players are permitted to enter the US only on match days, with an obligation to leave immediately after the final whistle. No extended preparation on US soil. No acclimatization. Fifteen federal officials and staff members are still waiting for clearance; others have reportedly been denied outright.
The Iranian federation relocated its training base to Tijuana as a direct result. The team crosses the border for group matches, then goes straight back. Whatever sporting disadvantage that creates, it's now baked into Iran's World Cup campaign before a single pass is played.
Iraq's experience has been different but no less jarring. Aymen Hussein — the striker central to Iraq's qualification — was detained at Chicago's O'Hare Airport and interrogated for approximately seven hours before being allowed to enter. Hussein's public reaction was pointed: why host a World Cup if the treatment of foreign nationals is this hostile? It's a fair question, and nobody in an official capacity has given a straight answer.
Iraq's official team photographer, Talal Salah, didn't get Hussein's outcome. After ten hours at Chicago's checkpoints, he was denied entry entirely. US Customs and Border Protection confirmed the decision following additional screening. He never made it through.
A World Cup referee turned away at Miami
The case that cuts deepest involves Omar Abdulkadir Artan. Named the best African referee of 2025 by the Confederation of African Football, Artan was set to become the first Somali national to officiate a World Cup match — selected personally by FIFA referees committee president Pierluigi Collina. He landed in Miami from Istanbul. He had a diplomatic passport. He had a valid visa. He had FIFA documentation.
CBP denied him entry over what it described as "vetting concerns." Artan told the New York Times he "had the right papers." FIFA acknowledged the decision and said immigration procedures are the responsibility of host nations. That's technically accurate and entirely inadequate as a response.
Uzbekistan — making their first-ever World Cup appearance under Fabio Cannavaro — were lined up outside their bus at Icahn Stadium before a pre-tournament friendly against the Netherlands, bags arranged on the ground, players subjected to metal detectors and personal searches. Senegal's squad faced individual screenings and shoe removal at the airport on arrival. Both scenes circulated widely on social media and neither reflects well on the tournament's stated ambition of global inclusivity.
- Iran: players restricted to entry on match days only, training camp relocated to Tijuana
- Iraq: star striker detained for seven hours; team photographer denied entry after ten hours
- Somalia: FIFA-appointed referee denied entry in Miami despite valid visa and diplomatic passport
- Uzbekistan and Senegal: delegations subjected to extensive searches on arrival
Amnesty International has called out FIFA directly, arguing the organization has failed to secure binding human rights guarantees from the host nations. The organization warns that millions of travelling fans face similar exposure to entry bans, surveillance, and discriminatory policing. FIFA's response — that this is a matter for host governments — is the kind of answer that looks worse every time another delegation is detained.
From a purely competitive standpoint, the teams absorbing the most disruption are not the tournament favorites. But the pattern is clear enough: the delegations from Arab, Muslim, and African nations are carrying a burden that French, English, or Brazilian squads simply aren't. Whether that affects results is secondary. The principle is the problem.
CBP told the New York Times that Artan was denied entry over "vetting concerns." He had a FIFA appointment, a diplomatic passport, and a valid visa. That's where this World Cup stands, six weeks before the opening match.
