Amid a busy summer, I have been far more captivated by the World Cup than I ever would have expected. First and foremost by the skill and drama on the pitch. But also by the broader picture encompassing the fans, the nations, and our own country at this fraught moment, its turbulent history sweeping into an uncertain future.
Forty-eight nations gathered for this global competition, the largest field ever. They came from every corner of our wondrously diverse Earth, every continent save Antarctica. There were mighty soccer powers like Brazil and France, and Cinderella stories like Cape Verde. For the most part, the level of play was exceptional, demonstrating that talent knows no boundaries of nation, ethnicity, or race.
But you could also see on the field the legacies of centuries of exploitation and injustice. Many of the European teams were made up in large part of descendants of people from their former colonies. Teams in Africa were stocked with sons of their diaspora. And teams in the Americas carried the unmistakable imprint of generations of migration, including the forced and violent bondage that brought millions of enslaved people across the Atlantic.
Watching from the vantage point of the United States, it was striking that three of the four semifinalists, England, France, and Spain, represented some of the most powerful colonial empires to carve up the land we now claim as our own. They began the bloody march of conquest and the mass death of Native peoples, a process our nation, despite its lofty ideals of equality, eagerly continued.
And yet, in the displays of sportsmanship and camaraderie, we could see diverse teams coming together to play with passion and mutual respect. We could see nations that had fought one another in wars now meeting in friendly competition. And for those of us in the United States, there could be a special pride in our country as host.
I couldn’t help thinking that our nation is home to citizens with roots in every one of the forty-eight nations playing in this World Cup. From Egypt to Japan, Norway to Senegal, Cape Verde to Colombia. Many of the fans in the stands are American citizens cheering for the country of their birth or for a homeland left behind by an earlier generation. It is a wonderful glimpse of our glorious diversity. No nation in the history of nations has brought more people from more parts of the world to live together.
The United States doesn’t just reflect the global community. We embody it. And we are at our best when we embrace it.
That is why there is a particular sorrow in this World Cup taking place while we are ruled by a regime that champions white supremacy and revels in cruelty and hostility toward the country we have become. Imagine if the tournament had been met with a national celebration of our immigrant history. But as with the recent 250th anniversary, and likely the Summer Olympics still to come, a moment that could have inspired unity and even self-reflection has instead been tarnished by xenophobia, boorishness, and the lost opportunities scattered in their destructive wake.
Thankfully, the tournament has managed to rise above our national malaise, just as the sport itself transcends the corrupt FIFA organization that runs it, a collection of thugs who eagerly suck up to our president with flattery and a newly invented peace prize, their own version of a participation trophy.
The hospitality Americans showed foreign fans moved many visitors to say on social media, sometimes through tears, that the beautiful, welcoming country they encountered firsthand bore little resemblance to the mean-spirited hellscape they had been led to imagine back home.
By almost every measure, this World Cup has been a tremendous success. One glaring exception was the performance of our home team. The American men had a promising start, looking as though they belonged among the middle to upper tier of international sides. But it came to a crushing and embarrassing end with a 4–1 loss to Belgium, after Trump involved himself in ways that shocked the soccer world and made headlines around the globe.
When Folarin Balogun, one of America’s best players, received a red card in the U.S. victory over Bosnia and Herzegovina, he should have been barred from the next game. But Trump intervened with his friends at FIFA, and the suspension was miraculously reversed. It was a grotesque breach of ethics and judgment. In the end, the controversy and distraction may even have contributed to the team’s collapse.
Nevertheless, American soccer seems poised for tremendous growth. And if and when that happens, perhaps this World Cup will be remembered both as the beginning of a new era for the sport and as a cautionary lesson from a time when the United States elected a president who embodied our worst instincts and understood neither the world nor the diversity that makes our country so special.
And there is something especially illustrative in the story of Balogun, the player for whom Trump was so eager to put his fat finger on the scales of justice. He was born in New York to Nigerian parents who lived in London and happened to be visiting family in Brooklyn. They returned to England when he was only a month old, and he grew up and learned to play soccer there.
In other words, it is only because of birthright citizenship that Balogun was eligible to play for the United States, the very right enshrined in the Fourteenth Amendment that Trump has demonized and tried to erase through sheer autocracy. Thankfully, the Supreme Court rejected his effort and kept our Constitution, at least in this one instance, intact.
The United States that welcomed the world to this World Cup is far more the America of Balogun than the America of Trump. It is a nation that will ultimately move forward, fortified by its diversity, rather than retreat into the worst version of its past. We can see signs of that future in the television ratings and corporate investment pouring into a sport that reflects the global community our country has become.
That version of America will only become more ascendant with every passing generation. Just as this tournament transcended the injustices of this era, so too will our nation. That is reason for pride and hope, no matter where you live or where your family came from.
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