ICE Looms Over World Cup as Winter Olympics, Paralympics End | Opinion

Milan/Toronto—The Olympic cauldron in Milan-Cortina has cooled and the Winter Paralympics will close on 15 March, yet the chill that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement cast across both events refuses to lift. Instead, it is drifting westward toward the next global gathering: the 2026 FIFA World Cup.

With 48 teams playing in 16 cities across Canada, Mexico and the United States from 11 June to 19 July, tournament organisers anticipate several times the one million international visitors who travelled to Qatar in 2022. The competition will be the largest in football history, and its success will depend on more than stadium readiness and policing—it will hinge on whether players and supporters feel welcome, safe and able to cross borders on tight itineraries.

Acting ICE Director Todd Lyons has already declared the agency “a key part of the overall security apparatus for the World Cup.” Critics contend that when immigration enforcement is visibly embedded in the staging of a global sporting festival, it stops looking like routine security and begins to resemble the export of domestic policy onto an international stage.

Fan unease is measurable. Football Supporters Europe, an umbrella group for national fan bodies, has warned of the “ongoing militarization of police forces” in the United States. A leading German club has cancelled a pre-tournament U.S. tour, and online forums from Lagos to Lima debate outright boycotts. Supporters from Latin America, Africa and the Middle East are asking whether a valid visa will suffice or whether a paperwork glitch could end in detention. Mixed-status families living in the host nation fear separation if enforcement activity intensifies around matches.

History shows that sport and politics are never far apart. The 1936 Berlin Olympics were choreographed by the Nazi regime to project ideological confidence even as anti-Semitic laws tightened at home. Three decades later, the Olympic movement barred South Africa from the 1964 Games, turning the tournament into a referendum on apartheid. More recently, Russia and Belarus competed as neutrals at the Milano-Cortina Winter Games following the invasion of Ukraine; Russian athletes heard their anthem at the Paralympics on 9 March for the first time since 2014.

Now a fresh geopolitical rift threatens the North American tournament. Since 28 February, U.S. and Israeli strikes have killed Iran’s supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and dozens of senior officials. Tehran has responded with missile attacks on U.S. bases across the Middle East. Iranian sports minister Ahmad Donyamali announced on state television that Iran will boycott the 2026 World Cup: “Considering that this corrupt regime has assassinated our leader, under no circumstances can we participate.”

Yet analysts draw a distinction between holding a state accountable and turning a sporting event into a platform for domestic enforcement. The World Cup is a soft-power showcase; for six weeks North America will market itself to billions of viewers as an open, pluralistic society. The United Nations has long promoted football as a tool for refugee integration and social cohesion, while groups such as the Muslim World League argue that athletics can foster “understanding, empathy and respect.”

If ICE operations overshadow the tournament, the fallout will be immediate and wide-ranging. Travel hesitancy, empty seats and lost tourism revenue are the short-term risks. The deeper danger is political: visible exclusion reinforces narratives of grievance that extremists on every side can exploit. When supporters feel unwelcome in shared civic spaces, the integrative power of sport erodes.

Clarity from federal authorities is therefore essential. The Departments of Homeland Security and State, together with host-city governments, should publish tournament-specific guidance covering visa-processing timelines, entry procedures for ticket holders and the precise scope of enforcement near official venues. Explicit assurances that immigration sweeps will not occur at stadiums, accredited fan zones or public watch sites would reduce uncertainty without compromising national security.

For a country that brands itself a nation of immigrants—and for a president who measures success in ratings, turnout and global spectacle—the 2026 World Cup offers an extraordinary opportunity to demonstrate that security and openness can coexist. Full stadiums and robust international attendance would broadcast an image of a confident, welcoming host nation. Failure to strike that balance, on the other hand, risks turning celebration into standoff, and the beautiful game into a cautionary tale.

Khalid Sayed is the leader of the opposition for the African National Congress in the Western Cape Provincial Parliament and a former provincial leader of the ANC Youth League.