A senior German politician has raised the explosive idea of a sporting boycott of the 2026 FIFA World Cup in the United States, as a potential last-ditch measure to pressure President Donald Trump over his threats to annex Greenland.
A Political Tackle on the World Stage
The suggestion comes from Jürgen Hardt, a member of German Chancellor Friedrich Merz's ruling CDU party. Noting President Trump's keen personal interest in the upcoming tournament, Hardt proposed that Germany—a four-time World Cup winner—could consider withdrawing from the competition. The aim would be to force the White House to "see sense" regarding its chilling ambitions towards the Danish territory of Greenland.
The notion lands as European leaders, including Britain's Keir Starmer, scramble for leverage against the US administration. While trade reprisals have been discussed, a boycott of the planet's biggest sporting event would represent an unprecedented escalation. The tournament is due to kick off in June 2026, with England and Scotland already qualified, and Wales and Northern Ireland still in contention.
Historical Precedent and Political Reality
The concept of a sporting boycott is far from new, and Britain has a history of supporting such moves. The global boycott of apartheid South Africa is widely considered a significant factor in its downfall. Furthermore, the US itself led a major boycott of the 1980 Moscow Olympics following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Then-Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher supported that boycott, though left the final decision to individual athletes.
However, the political calculus for Keir Starmer today is complex. A known football fan who still plays at 63, Starmer is among millions in Britain eagerly anticipating the tournament. With his poll ratings languishing, analysts suggest it is highly unlikely he would risk alienating vast swathes of the British public by endorsing a boycott that would rob fans of seeing their teams compete.
Would a Boycott Even Work?
The impact of a European withdrawal would be seismic. A World Cup without the 16 qualified European nations—including football powerhouses like Germany, England, Spain, France, and the Netherlands—would be almost unimaginable, devaluing the title of world champion.
Yet, Trump's supporters would likely frame any boycott as a petulant act from a continent they see as in decline. They might argue it would merely add sports to a growing list of areas—economic, diplomatic, and military—where Europe's global influence is waning.
The clock is ticking. President Trump has cultivated a close friendship with FIFA president Gianni Infantino, ensuring he will be centre stage when the tournament begins. If the US follows through on its threats, American troops could be in control of Greenland by the time Trump attends the US team's first match against Paraguay on June 12 in Los Angeles. This raises a profound question for all qualified nations, including a possible Denmark: could any self-respecting country take part in a festival of sport hosted by a nation that has just forcibly annexed an ally's territory?
