FIFA 2026, Politics, And The Law: What Sepp Blatter’s Warning Really Means For The World Cup In America

Every World Cup arrives with controversy. That is part of the tournament’s DNA. Host nations worry about stadium readiness. Fans argue about ticket prices. Security planners lose sleep.

What feels different this time is that the warning is not coming from activists in the stands or lawmakers in host cities. It is coming from the top of the sport’s old establishment.

Former FIFA president Sepp Blatter is now publicly backing calls for fans to stay away from matches in the United States in 2026. He echoed comments from Swiss lawyer and longtime FIFA reform figure Mark Pieth, who said in a newspaper interview that supporters should consider watching from home and that visitors might face aggressive immigration treatment on arrival.

Add in fresh criticism from officials within Germany’s soccer federation, new travel bans affecting fans from several qualified countries, and outrage over nearly $9,000 list prices for the final at MetLife Stadium, and the legal stakes around this tournament become impossible to ignore.

The United States is not just hosting a sporting event next summer. Along with Canada and Mexico, it is hosting one of the largest temporary international migrations in modern history. Millions of people will cross borders to attend matches. That turns immigration law, administrative discretion, security policy, consumer protection, and even tort liability into part of the tournament infrastructure.

Let’s start with the travel bans, because they cut closest to the heart of fan access.

Reports that supporters from Senegal, Ivory Coast, Iran, and Haiti may be barred unless they already hold visas raise immediate questions about how immigration policy intersects with mega events. Legally, the federal government has wide latitude to regulate entry into the country. Courts have repeatedly upheld presidential authority in this area when national security rationales are asserted.

But FIFA tournaments operate on a different plane than ordinary tourism. Host agreements typically include promises that fans, teams, and officials will be able to enter the country for the event subject to standard security screening. When whole categories of supporters are excluded based on nationality, that tension becomes acute.

From FIFA’s perspective, this is not simply a political headache. It is potentially a contractual one. Host country agreements often commit governments to facilitating visas for accredited participants and visitors. If those commitments are perceived as hollow, FIFA and its partners face reputational risk and possible disputes with sponsors and broadcasters who paid for a truly global spectacle.

From the fan side, there is another layer. Supporters who buy tickets and book travel only to learn later that they cannot enter the country may turn to refund claims, insurance disputes, or class actions against resellers and tour operators. The fine print will matter enormously. So will disclosures about entry requirements at the time of sale.

Which brings us to pricing.

Dynamic pricing has pushed the list price for the final toward levels that would make Broadway blush. FIFA President Gianni Infantino has suggested resale markets could drive them higher still.

There is nothing inherently illegal about charging premium prices for scarce tickets. But once numbers reach this scale, regulators start paying closer attention. State attorneys general routinely police deceptive sales practices, bait-and-switch tactics, and hidden fees in ticketing platforms. Federal agencies watch for unfair or misleading advertising, especially when international consumers are involved.

If fans are paying thousands of dollars while simultaneously facing uncertainty about entry into the country, disclosure becomes the legal pressure point. What did sellers promise? What risks were flagged? What refunds are available if government policy changes after purchase?

Security policy is the next front.

Blatter and Pieth’s comments suggest that arriving fans could face aggressive questioning or removal if they run afoul of immigration officials. That may sound dramatic, but large-scale events already involve enhanced screening, coordination between federal agencies, and temporary security zones around venues.

The legal responsibility for what happens to spectators inside and around stadiums will fall on a complex web of actors. Federal authorities control borders. Local police departments manage crowd control. Stadium operators and organizing committees oversee private security. If something goes wrong, plaintiffs’ lawyers will be sorting through who owed what duty to whom in record time.

We saw this play out in other mega events around the world. When transportation collapses, when crowd surges injure spectators, or when protest responses escalate, lawsuits often follow. For U.S. host cities, sovereign immunity statutes, federal jurisdiction questions, and indemnification agreements will suddenly move from boilerplate to battleground.

Then there is the political overlay.

Concerns tied to immigration enforcement protests, foreign policy rhetoric, and domestic unrest are not issues FIFA can simply wave away with marketing slogans. When senior figures in the international game float boycott talk, sponsors take notice. So do broadcasters. So do host committees that have issued bonds, built transit upgrades, and promised economic windfalls.

If attendance dips because foreign supporters stay home, that has ripple effects across municipal budgets and private contracts. Hotels, vendors, and transportation operators rely on projections that assume global participation. Litigation over lost revenue is not far-fetched if those projections collapse under policy shifts.

FIFA’s response so far has been predictably upbeat. Infantino insists that fans will come and celebrate together. He may well be right. World Cups have survived scandals before.

But legally speaking, optimism is not a strategy.

The 2026 tournament is testing whether a sport that markets itself as borderless can function smoothly inside a world of tightening borders and polarized politics. Immigration policy, consumer law, public safety planning, and international agreements are all colliding in real time.

For American hosts, the lesson is straightforward. Transparency matters. Coordination matters more. Clear visa pathways, realistic ticketing disclosures, and visible security planning are not public relations exercises. They are liability management.

For fans, the message is equally practical. Read the entry requirements. Understand refund policies. Know what insurance actually covers. Do not assume that buying a ticket guarantees a seat in the stadium if government rules shift.

And for FIFA, this is the central legal question behind the headlines. When former presidents and reform architects warn that supporters should stay away, the issue is no longer just optics. It is whether the legal framework surrounding the tournament can support the world’s biggest sporting event without cracking under geopolitical strain.

The World Cup has always claimed to unite nations for 90 minutes at a time. In 2026, the courts, regulators, and border officials may end up shaping that promise just as much as the players on the pitch.

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Michael J. Epstein, a Harvard Law School graduate, is a trial lawyer and managing partner of The Epstein Law Firm, P.A., a law firm based in New Jersey.