ANALYSIS: Trump Abuses His Power Again and Calls Infantino; FIFA Gives In, and Soccer Loses Its Referee

"FIFA’s judicial bodies are independent"

Gianni Infantino did not deny the conversation. In a statement cited by ESPN, he acknowledged speaking with President Trump, while insisting that “FIFA’s judicial bodies are independent” and that he had “no influence” on the decision regarding Balogun. FIFA justified the suspension of the sanction by citing Article 27 of its Code of Sports, according to Yahoo Sports.

And yet, the timeline speaks louder than the press releases. According to The New York Times, the call took place “within hours” of Wednesday’s match. FIFA’s announcement came on Sunday. Four days of institutional silence, followed by a century-old rule that bends for a specific player, in a specific country, at a specific moment—the very moment that country is hosting the most-watched tournament on the planet. Coincidence exists. It just has a name.

To claim one has “no influence” after receiving a call from a president is to confuse independence with a short memory.

A gift given in December, a debt that comes due in July

This isn’t the first time Infantino and Trump have maintained a relationship that goes beyond protocol. In December, according to The New York Times, FIFA created and presented Donald Trump with the very first “FIFA Peace Prize,” at a time when the U.S. president was unsuccessfully waging a public campaign to win the Nobel Peace Prize. A trophy created specifically for one man, presented during the World Cup draw for the tournament he was set to host.

And yet, this kind of closeness comes at a delayed cost. Seven months later, that same man picks up the phone to issue a red card, and within four days, the federation bends to his will in a way it hadn’t since 1962. You can’t fabricate a token medal in December and then claim independence in July. The connection isn’t proven by a signed document—it’s proven by the logic of reciprocal actions.

A peace prize invented to flatter a man, and seven months later, that same man gets what he wants with a single phone call. Peace, in this case, was never the issue.

Unsubstantiated allegations, stirred up nonetheless

The New York Times reveals a chilling detail: Scott Goodwin, a hedge fund manager and major donor to U.S. Soccer, brought to the attention of Trump administration officials public accusations that referee Raphael Claus was allegedly involved in match-fixing in Brazil. Brazilian authorities and FIFA itself have found no evidence of wrongdoing on Claus’s part. Trump nevertheless raised these baseless allegations during his call with Infantino, according to people familiar with the conversation.

And yet, this may be the most serious detail of the entire affair. It is not merely a matter of disputing a card—it is an attempt to discredit, without evidence, the man who issued it. A Brazilian referee, whose professional reputation is being publicly called into question by allies of a U.S. president, based on a rumor that FIFA itself has dismissed. Raphael Claus had not initially called a foul against Balogun; it was other officials, tasked with monitoring replays, who asked him to review his decision.

Slandering a referee without evidence to save a player is the kind of maneuver that never leaves a clean trail—only ruined careers.

“We’ve been punished enough”

According to Al Jazeera, U.S. head coach Mauricio Pochettino defended the decision by pointing to the initial injustice: “We were punished enough against Bosnia and Herzegovina by playing with ten men for 30 minutes, in a completely unfair decision,” he said. Pochettino, who himself played for Argentina in the 2002 World Cup, was not surprised that Trump decided to call Infantino.

And yet, this lack of surprise is itself a terrible admission. When an international soccer coach is no longer surprised that a president would call the head of FIFA directly to have a sports sanction overturned, it means that something has already become the norm, somewhere, without us seeing it coming. It is no longer an isolated scandal. It has become a pattern.

To no longer be surprised by interference is already to have accepted that it has become the norm.

What the rules used to protect—and what they no longer protect

The New York Times is unequivocal: this is the first time since 1962 that FIFA has rescinded a suspension resulting from a red card received during a World Cup. Sixty-four years of regulatory stability, wiped out in a single weekend, for one player, in one country, at a time when that country is hosting the tournament. The precedent is significant: it means that the next time a powerful country wants a similar favor, it will have a concrete example to cite.

And yet, FIFA will continue to claim that nothing has changed. That its “judicial bodies” remain independent. That Article 27 of its sports code was simply applied as it should be. But a rule that is bent only once in sixty-four years—and bent precisely when a U.S. president calls—is no longer a rule—it is selective courtesy. Soccer lacks an institutional memory strong enough to survive this kind of breach.

Sixty-four years of an unbroken rule, and all it took was a phone call to make it falter. That is the true measure of power in 2026.

Who will protest, and who will remain silent

None of the sources consulted mention, at this stage, any official protest filed by Belgium or any other national federation. This silence is telling in itself. It reveals the position of weakness in which the other countries find themselves vis-à-vis a FIFA that, according to the New York Times, has chosen to openly court the White House for months, in the clear hope of maintaining good relations with the U.S. administration hosting this World Cup.

And yet, this silence will not last forever. Once the tournament is over, once the spotlight has shifted elsewhere, the aggrieved federations—those whose players have received similar suspensions without any head of state speaking out on their behalf—will have plenty of time to bring up this precedent. On Monday, Belgium will face a U.S. team bolstered by a political gesture, not just a sporting one. It will be up to Belgium to decide whether to take the matter further or simply play the game.

The silence of the powerful is never an agreement. It is often just a calculated wait.

What Soccer Loses When Politics Takes Over

For twenty-four days, CNN reports, the 2026 World Cup had achieved something rare in America: it had almost nothing to do with Donald Trump. That twenty-fifth day was enough to change everything. A red card, a phone call, a suspended red card overturned, a sixty-four-year-old precedent shattered—and one question that remains without an official answer: How many more refereeing decisions will now be subject not to video review, but to a phone call?

FIFA received its “Peace Prize” in December. It received its phone call in July. It still claims that its judicial bodies are independent. But independence isn’t something you simply proclaim—it’s something you prove, precisely by resisting the kind of pressure it has just endured, and to which it succumbed in four days. Soccer didn’t lose a match against Belgium on Monday. Long before kickoff, it lost a bit of its claim to fairness.

A rule that bends once will always bend a second time. The next phone call is already in the works, somewhere, by someone else who has seen that it works.

Signed, Jacques PJake Provost, columnist