Portugal Eyes 2030 World Cup: Lessons from FIFA 2026 and Future Challenges

Beyond 2026, amidst millions, private interests, and soft power, organizing matches will be the easiest part. Spain clinched the World Cup in New York/New Jersey, defeating Argentina, but the main takeaway from 2026 extends far beyond the scoreline. The largest World Cup in history, featuring 48 teams, 104 matches, 16 cities, and three countries, confirmed football's global appeal while exposing the limits of such grand scale.

For Portugal, eliminated by the eventual champions in the round of 16, this World Cup offers lessons beyond mere emotion. In four years, the country will co-host the centenary World Cup with Spain and Morocco. The events of 2026 serve as a blueprint for 2030.

In May, we argued in these pages that Portugal's biggest game in 2030 wouldn't be played on the pitch. The World Cup confirmed this. Hosting doesn't guarantee reputation. Exposure creates a soft power opportunity – the ability to generate attraction, trust, and influence through image, values, and the experience provided.

The assessment cannot overlook the popular success. Stadiums welcomed nearly seven million spectators, and millions of fans mingled in the host cities. Few events command such international attention.

However, the celebration had a downside. Specific incidents demonstrated how FIFA's proclaimed universality yielded to national policies and how the fan experience was converted into commercial opportunities.

Difficulties in issuing visas for players, officials, referees, and fans created obstacles to full participation in an event presented as universal. To cite just a few examples:

The exclusion of Somali referee Omar Abdulkadir Artan, denied entry to the United States despite being appointed by FIFA, exposed the limits of organizational autonomy in the face of migration policies.

Restrictions on the Iranian delegation, which based itself in Tijuana, Mexico, and had to manage cross-border travel to compete in the United States.

Incidents involving the Egyptian national team, facing logistical mishaps and local security restrictions that prevented the team from staying in certain cities during the tournament.

The commercialization of a tournament that should have universal, inclusive, and sustainable reach:

Exorbitantly priced tickets and dynamic pricing mechanisms were criticized for alienating fans and making it one of the most expensive tournaments in history.

Mandatory three-minute hydration breaks in each half, even in moderate temperatures or indoor venues. The official justification was player protection, but the advertising broadcast during these interruptions fueled doubts about commercial motivations.

The debate over extending the final's halftime to accommodate the spectacle and broadcast reignited discussions about adapting football to commercial interests.

Vast distances between host cities led to increased player fatigue, higher costs, logistical complexity, and a significant environmental footprint.

The conflict became clearer after the tournament. Gianni Infantino attempted to create FIFA Forward Enterprise, a subsidiary that would centralize commercial operations, broadcasting, sponsorships, ticketing, and licensing. Valued at approximately $20 billion, it aimed to sell up to 20% of its capital to raise up to $4.2 billion. Opposition from UEFA, Concacaf, and the Asian Confederation, citing a lack of consultation and transparency, led to the project's abandonment.

This wasn't about selling the World Cup itself, but about opening its commercial engine to private investors. The proposal exposed the intersection of profit, governance, and soft power. The promised access to additional funding for the 211 federations could support development, but also heighten dependencies and political influence. The dispute revealed who seeks to convert global football into economic, institutional, and geopolitical power.

Portugal should draw five key lessons from this.

The first lesson is about governance: 2030 must be a national project, supported by a truly integrated and sustainable structure. Preparation cannot be confined to the Portuguese Football Federation, host cities, or stadium management entities. It requires permanent coordination between the Government, Federation, Turismo de Portugal, municipalities, regional tourism bodies, security forces, transport, airports, hospitality, catering, universities, businesses, and local communities: football organizes the competition, but it's the territory that welcomes visitors.

Before the tournament, a FIFA-commissioned study estimated that the 2026 World Cup could contribute up to $40.9 billion to the global GDP and support approximately 824,000 full-time equivalent jobs. Several economists deemed the projection exaggerated, and this caveat applies to Portugal in two ways: neither the promised figures materialize on their own, nor do the benefits automatically reach the host territories. Without coordination between the sports and tourism systems, Portugal could host excellent matches and still squander a substantial part of the World Cup's economic, tourism, and reputational value.

The second lesson concerns mobility, which will be crucial. In 2030, the visitor experience will depend on the capacity of Lisbon Airport, airport access, the development of the Lisbon-Porto high-speed rail link and the connection to Vigo, as well as the strengthening of rail capacity on the North-Central axis. Portugal will have few stadiums, but can involve the wider territory through training centers, fan zones, tourist routes, and cultural programming. Connections between airports, cities, stadiums, and regions will be decisive: visitors don't distinguish administrative responsibilities; they evaluate the journey as a whole.

The third relates to residents: they cannot be mere extras. In Portugal, where housing access is already one of the most sensitive social and political issues, the World Cup cannot exacerbate pressure on rentals, convert more housing into temporary accommodation, or displace residents from sought-after areas. Communities must participate in decisions and recognize lasting benefits: improved public spaces, transport, economic opportunities, skilled employment, and useful infrastructure beyond 2030. If costs are borne by residents and gains concentrated elsewhere, the event will lose legitimacy, even if stadiums are full.

The fourth is sustainability, which must move from rhetoric to action: reusing infrastructure, reducing travel, measuring emissions, improving public transport, and ensuring transparency in public investment.

The fifth is that Portugal needs its own narrative in the shared organization. It must distinguish itself through hospitality, security, proximity, and the ability to connect football, tourism, culture, health, and quality of life. Without a strategy, we might host games without transforming attention into value.

The 2026 World Cup demonstrated that global projection alone does not automatically generate a favorable reputation. The same competition that fills stadiums can expose inequalities, coordination failures, and negative experiences. Visibility amplifies both strengths and weaknesses.

For Portugal, the challenge will be to transform international attention into lasting trust. This outcome will depend less on ceremonies and speeches than on the experience of our visitors, the participation and recognized benefits for residents, and the joint action capacity of institutions. When the games end, the reputational balance won't be read on the scoreboard, but in the memory of those who visited and those who live here. That memory begins to be built now, in decisions about transport, territory, services, transparency, and coordination. In 2030, Portugal's reputation will be the concrete consequence of how the country prepared, hosted, and shared the World Cup.