The irony is that fortresses are typically built by cities gripped by fear, not by those confident in their own strength. The United States, which has long presented itself as an open arena for ideas, people, and opportunity, now increasingly resembles a fortress scrutinizing those who seek entry rather than welcoming them.

Borders once celebrated as symbols of openness to the world have effectively become psychological and security barriers before they are physical checkpoints.

The same America that taught others the language of flexible visas, exchange programs, and academic openness now offers the world a different lesson through the World Cup: when fear takes hold of great nations, it closes more doors than poverty or weakness ever could on the periphery.

Thus, what is unfolding around the 2026 World Cup appears less like a sporting issue than a reflection of a deeper transformation within the West itself. The world that spent decades promoting the virtues of globalization now seems less enthusiastic about it than ever before.

The same world that championed the free movement of people, ideas, and opportunities has become increasingly preoccupied with screening, restrictions, scrutiny, and control.

The situation increasingly resembles that of a major corporation that suddenly decides to serve its customers from behind soundproof glass, still offering the same products, yet no longer willing to tolerate the disorder of crowds or the inconvenience of questions. In stadiums, as in airports, the central question is no longer how to make people's presence easier, but how to make it more controllable, measurable, and monetized.

In this sense, the World Cup becomes a microcosm of a world reassessing its relationship with globalization, eager to preserve the flow of capital, yet far less welcoming of the movement of people.

Perhaps for this reason, the details of the tournament appear to follow a single underlying logic, however disparate they may seem. A ticket is no longer just a ticket, but a test of purchasing power. The fan is no longer a global guest, but a potential consumer.

Even the journey between cities has become a constant reminder that the tournament was assigned to a vast geography before it was ever assigned to a footballing idea.

It is as if the World Cup has, for the first time, shifted from a celebration of peoples to a vast logistical project governed more by calculation than by emotion.

Features of Trumpian America

Here, Donald Trump does not merely appear as a president whose term coincided with the tournament, but as the clearest political expression of the spirit of the era.

The 2026 World Cup carries many of the features of Trumpian America: borders before bridges, the market before the stands, and the deal before the idea. Even the game born in poor streets and working-class neighborhoods seems as if it is being asked to pay the price of entry into the world of the wealthy.

But the most striking aspect of this World Cup is that it follows Doha. Not only because Qatar delivered a successful tournament, but because it introduced a different understanding of what hosting can mean. There, the tournament felt like an effort to bring the world closer together.

Here, it often appears more like an attempt to manage the world from a controlled distance. There, the experience told visitors, “you are a guest.” Here, it seems to say, “you are a file to be processed.”

Therefore, the most important question in the coming weeks may not be who ultimately lifts the trophy, cups always find someone to hold them. Instead, the lingering question after the lights go out will be whether the United States still has the capacity to convince the world of the image upon which much of its influence has been built for decades.

Great powers are not only tested in wars or crises; sometimes they are tested in a football festival. And when that happens, the tournament reveals not only the level of football, but also the level of confidence nations have in themselves and in the world around them.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the writers are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Annahar.