For years, FIFA has insisted that football must remain free from politics. This principle has repeatedly been invoked to sanction supporters over banners and slogans, to warn players against political gestures and to remind national federations that the game must not become a platform for political expression. Yet this proclaimed commitment to keeping politics out of football has proved remarkably selective.
Nothing has exposed this contradiction more clearly than the disgustingly servile conduct of FIFA President Gianni Infantino towards Donald Trump ahead of the 2026 World Cup. Infantino has gone well beyond the protocol expected of the head of an international sporting organization. His repeated public appearances alongside Trump and his eagerness to cultivate this relationship reveal something far more significant than questionable personal judgment: they expose a FIFA leadership that no longer seeks merely to govern world football, but increasingly acts in deference to political power, imperialist influence and the interests of big capital.
If there were still any doubts about where FIFA's leadership stands, they were dispelled when Infantino chose to present Donald Trump with FIFA's so-called... "Peace Prize". Few decisions could better illustrate the political and moral bankruptcy of today's FIFA. Honouring a political figure whose record is marked by military escalation, unwavering support for Israel's devastating war on Gaza, the blackmailing and strangulation of the Cuban people, repeated threats of military force and the pursuit of imperialist interests across the globe is not merely an act of astonishing cynicism. It demonstrates how readily FIFA's leadership abandons its proclaimed principles whenever proximity to political and economic power is at stake.
Nor should this surprise anyone. Modern football has become one of the most profitable sectors of the global entertainment industry. Broadcasting rights, sponsorship agreements, betting companies, investment funds and multinational corporations generate enormous wealth, while the institutions governing the sport have become deeply embedded in this commercial ecosystem. Under such conditions, it is hardly accidental that FIFA's leadership feels more at ease in the company of presidents, billionaires and corporate executives than among the millions of supporters whose passion has made football the world's most popular sport. Under Infantino, FIFA has increasingly behaved not as an independent sporting institution, but as a willing and servile partner of those who dominate the political and economic order.
The contradiction becomes even more striking when compared with FIFA's own rhetoric. Political messages from below—whether they concern social injustice, racism, war or workers' rights—are routinely treated as threats to the game's neutrality. Political messages from above, however, are readily embraced whenever they reinforce commercial partnerships, enhance diplomatic prestige or strengthen relations with governments capable of advancing FIFA's economic interests. Neutrality, it seems, applies only to those without economic or political power.
The problem, however, extends well beyond Gianni Infantino himself. He did not transform football into a commodity; he presides over an institution that increasingly reflects the broader logic of capitalist development. As every sphere of social life is subordinated to the pursuit of profit, football has likewise been reshaped into a global marketplace. Stadiums become investment projects, clubs become financial assets, supporters are reduced to consumers, and major tournaments are increasingly treated as opportunities for commercial expansion.
The collective labour, creativity and emotional investment of millions generate immense wealth, but that wealth is concentrated in the hands of corporations, media conglomerates, sponsors and football bureaucracies.
It is therefore impossible to separate the commercialization of football from the economic system within which it operates. The growing influence of multinational corporations over the game, the relentless search for new markets and the increasingly close relationship between football's governing bodies and political leaders are not unfortunate deviations from the ideals of sport. They are entirely consistent with a system in which profit inevitably takes precedence over social need.
Football remains one of the few cultural phenomena capable of bringing together millions of ordinary people across continents, languages and cultures. Precisely because of this extraordinary social influence, it has become an object of extraordinary political and commercial competition.
The closer FIFA aligns itself with governments and corporate power, the further it distances itself from those who have always been the true custodians of the game: the workers who built it, the supporters who sustain it, the local communities that keep it alive and the generations of young people for whom football has never been merely another commodity.
Red-carding FIFA therefore means much more than expressing indignation over the conduct of one FIFA president. It means rejecting the growing subordination of the world's most popular sport to the interests of political power and big capital. As long as football remains subordinated to the logic of profit, FIFA's leadership will continue to reward the powerful, accommodate imperialist interests and silence those who challenge them.
Obviously, that is not simply a failure of one president's character; it is the inevitable consequence of a system that has transformed the world's game into another profitable commodity. Defending football from this course is therefore not merely a matter of sporting ethics. It forms part of the broader struggle against the commercialization of every sphere of social life and for a society in which human needs—not corporate profit and imperialist ambition—set the priorities.
* Nikos Mottas is the Editor-in-Chief of In Defense of Communism.