Omar Artan will not officiate at the World Cup. The Somali referee was denied entry to the United States by immigration authorities, his career’s biggest opportunity snatched away not by performance, but by nationality. Somalia is one of the countries on a travel ban list created by the Trump administration, and Artan is the latest casualty of a tournament increasingly defined by politics rather than sport.
FIFA’s president, Gianni Infantino, has spent the past year insisting everything is going brilliantly – the World Cup will be a “total party” and “the greatest event that humanity, that mankind, has ever seen”. Yet behind the slogans, Infantino has been schmoozing Donald Trump, having turned his attention from befriending Mohammed bin Salman to cosying up to the most powerful man in the world. In December, Infantino invented the laughably-named FIFA Peace Prize solely to hand to Trump.
“Somali referee Omar Artan denied entry to US for World Cup amid FIFA’s alliance with Trump administration.”
Monday’s revelation that Artan had been barred prompted a tepid response from FIFA. “FIFA is not involved in host country immigration processes, including visa adjudications, and has been informed by authorities that Mr Artan’s status will not be changed at present,” the organisation said, washing their hands of responsibility.
Artan’s own statement was heartbreaking. “I would like to thank FIFA and CAF for all their support and I promise to keep my refereeing levels up as I concentrate on the future,” he said. “I want to thank the football family for their messages and wish my colleagues all the best success during the World Cup and I look forward to joining them again in future competitions.”
He is not alone. Iran were forced to relocate their training base from Arizona to Mexico at the last minute and had their ticket allocation for supporters removed. Senegal and Uzbekistan were subjected to rigorous checks upon arrival in the US. The cumulative effect has provoked fury from former England striker Ian Wright, who branded this “the World Cup of chaos”, asking: “Is this the spirit of the game?”
Infantino’s bare-faced manoeuvres, conducted purely to burgeon his own status and further his expansionist policy at FIFA, have been shameful, and the results of that alliance are now visible. The World Cup’s legacy, once dreamed of as a unifying spectacle, is shaping up to be one of division and disharmony.