The World Cup: America's Greatest Untapped Form of Diplomacy
Every four years the world gathers around a simple game. Twenty-two players. One ball. One referee. The same rules apply whether you arrive from Buenos Aires or Birmingham, Lagos or Los Angeles, Tokyo or Texas. No nation receives extra players. No country begins with a head start. Football – what my fellow Americans reluctantly call soccer – has an unusual way of reminding humanity that fairness begins with everyone agreeing to play by the same rules.
There is something profoundly refreshing about that.
As America has been welcoming the world for the FIFA World Cup while simultaneously preparing to celebrate its 250th birthday, I cannot help but think that we are overlooking one of the greatest diplomatic opportunities in modern history. Governments spend billions of dollars trying to improve their image overseas. Diplomats negotiate treaties. Politicians deliver speeches. Public relations firms manufacture campaigns. Yet for one extraordinary summer, America has the opportunity to accomplish something that no government program can purchase.
Simply by welcoming people.
As someone who emigrated from the United Kingdom before becoming an American citizen, I have watched this country through two sets of eyes. Britain gave me my history. America gave me my future. The historic joke about the American Revolution “that unfortunate misunderstanding across the Atlantic” is looking increasingly like a fortunate outcome for both countries. Two nations divided by an ocean have become two of the closest allies the world has ever known. History has a delightful sense of humor.
That perspective perhaps explains why I notice something that many Americans overlook. The world often knows America through headlines. However, visitors discover America through neighbors.
There is an enormous difference.
Before arriving, many international visitors expect to find a nation permanently divided into red states and blue states. That is certainly the picture exported by much of our media. Every disagreement becomes a crisis. Every election is portrayed as an existential struggle. Every controversy suggests a country tearing itself apart.
Then people arrive for the World Cup.
Instead of meeting political tribes, they meet waitresses who recommend their favorite barbecue restaurant. Hotel staff who spend time helping a family plan tomorrow's itinerary. Volunteers who point visitors toward the nearest pharmacy. Uber drivers who become unofficial tour guides. Complete strangers who ask where they are from and genuinely hope they enjoy their stay.
One of the most remarkable features of American culture is that complete strangers often become your neighbors before you even know their names.
That still surprises me.
In Britain, friendship generally begins with caution and gradually develops into familiarity. In America, familiarity often comes first. Within minutes someone is inviting you to their church, recommending the best local diner, explaining where to buy groceries, or asking if you need help finding your way. Americans possess an extraordinary ability to treat newcomers as though they have always belonged.
That habit cannot be legislated.
It cannot be manufactured by government.
It cannot be replicated through advertising campaigns.
It simply reflects a people who instinctively believe there is always room for one more chair around the table.
Contrary to what much of the mainstream media would have the world believe, America's greatest export during the World Cup will not be Hollywood, technology, military power, or political influence.
It will be hospitality.
Every shared meal becomes diplomacy.
Every smile offered to a confused tourist becomes diplomacy.
Every volunteer directing traffic becomes diplomacy.
Every conversation between strangers waiting outside a stadium becomes diplomacy.
Long after the final whistle has blown, visitors are unlikely to remember the airport security line or the political debates they saw on television. They will remember the family who insisted they try authentic Texas brisket. They will remember the church member who offered directions. They will remember the couple who invited them to sit at their table because every other seat was taken.
People remember people.
That is how nations build reputations.
The World Cup will not solve America's political divisions. It will not eliminate disagreements about immigration, economics, education, or foreign policy. No sporting event possesses that kind of power, nor should we expect it to.
But it does remind us of something that is easy to forget.
We are still capable of gathering around something larger than ourselves.
For a few precious weeks, Americans from every political persuasion will cheer for spectacular goals, remarkable saves, impossible comebacks, and moments of sporting brilliance. Families who disagree on almost everything else will sit together watching ninety minutes of football. Children wearing jerseys from different countries will trade stickers and flags without asking how one another voted.
That vision should not be dismissed as naïve.
It is simply human.
There is something wonderfully fitting about America celebrating its 250th birthday while the nations of the world gather on its soil. Two hundred and fifty years ago this country declared that liberty was worth defending. Today it has the opportunity to demonstrate something equally important – that liberty creates a society capable of welcoming the world.
Many visitors will notice something else that rarely appears in international news coverage. They will see American flags flying from homes, businesses, churches, and front porches.
Some may assume they are looking at political statements.
Most are not.
For millions of Americans, displaying the flag is simply an expression of gratitude for a country that has provided opportunity. Gratitude for freedoms that many immigrants understand perhaps more deeply because they have lived elsewhere. Gratitude that despite all its imperfections, America remains a place where people from every corner of the globe can build a new life.
I understand that sentiment personally.
The flag I pledged allegiance to was not the flag under which I was born. That decision was never a rejection of Britain. It was an embrace of America. Loving one country did not require abandoning affection for another. It simply meant recognizing where my future – and that of my family – had been graciously received.
Hospitality has always spoken louder than political slogans.
It still does.
The true ambassadors of the United States this summer will not be politicians standing behind podiums. They will be restaurant owners, airport workers, police officers, hotel receptionists, church volunteers, taxi drivers, Little League parents, and families opening their communities to people they have never met before.
Their kindness will shape opinions more effectively than any government press release ever could.
As an immigrant who became an American citizen, I remain deeply grateful for the nation that welcomed my family. Britain taught me to appreciate history. America taught me something equally valuable – that the best chapter may still be ahead.
Perhaps that is the quiet lesson of the World Cup.
The greatest victories are not always measured by the scoreboard.
Sometimes they are measured by the strangers who leave as friends.