The 2026 World Cup kicks off this Thursday at 7 pm GMT at Mexico City's legendary Estadio Azteca with one of the tournament's most historic matches: Mexico versus South Africa in Group A. This international competition was meant to celebrate the universality of football. But it begins by highlighting the reality of borders. For several days, members of technical staff, referees, and accredited journalists have been facing an obstacle unrelated to the pitch: obtaining a US visa.

The situation is troubling. Teams qualified for the world's most prestigious sporting competition traveled incomplete. Swiss player Breel Embolo was held up in Europe for an extended period. Moroccan player Zakaria El Ouahdi joined his national team late. South Africa had to postpone its departure due to visa issues affecting several members of its coaching staff. As for Somali referee Omar Abdulkadir Artan, considered among the best on the African continent and officially selected by FIFA to officiate at the World Cup, he was ultimately excluded from the competition after being denied entry to the United States.

In addition to these difficulties, many journalists and media professionals also face challenges. The International Sports Press Association (AIPS) has publicly denounced the obstacles encountered by professionals who are nonetheless duly accredited by FIFA. This situation is sufficiently concerning to prompt the organization to directly appeal to the leaders of world football's governing body.

These incidents could be considered mere administrative malfunctions if they did not reveal a deeper problem.

They highlight the growing gap between FIFA's rhetoric and certain realities of the organization of world football.

For years, Gianni Infantino has insisted that "football unites the world." The slogan is appealing. But today it clashes with a stark reality: football cannot unite the world when some of its players struggle to cross the borders of their host country.

The paradox is all the more striking given that this 2026 edition aims to break all records. For the first time, 48 nations are participating in the final tournament. More than one hundred matches are scheduled. Africa boasts a historic representation with ten qualified teams. Never before has the World Cup been so vast, so inclusive in its format, and so ambitious in its objectives.

Yet, perhaps never before has the question of access to competition been so acutely posed.

The responsibility cannot be placed solely on the American authorities. Each state remains sovereign in defining its immigration policy. The real issue lies with FIFA. By awarding its flagship event to a country with some of the strictest entry requirements in the world, the governing body had an obligation to anticipate these difficulties and obtain solid guarantees for all participants officially recognized by the organization.

Because beyond individual cases, it's the very idea of the World Cup that's being questioned. A global competition cannot be based on a system where all qualified teams don't have the same access. Football claims its status as a universal language. But for that to happen, those who keep it alive must be able to reach the place where it's supposed to be celebrated.

The first lesson of this World Cup is therefore already known even before the first whistle blows. In contemporary football, borders have not disappeared. They continue to remind us that universality is sometimes more of a slogan than a reality.