The news that Somali referee Ahmed Artan was denied entry to the United States for the World Cup is a fitting parable for our times. Artan, a symbol of global integration and sporting merit, was turned away at the border. The UK, in a rare display of backbone, has called for “visa transparency.” How quaint. How utterly Victorian. We are witnessing the death rattle of the liberal international order, and it is being soundtracked by the buzz of an airline departure board.
Let us not pretend this is an isolated incident. Artan’s story is the story of the modern world: a man from a failed state, elevated by the meritocratic machinery of international football, only to be grounded by the sovereignty of a nation that no longer believes in the project of globalism. The United States, like a petulant child, has closed its borders not just to terrorists but to arbiters of fairness. The irony is exquisite. The very country that champions the “level playing field” has denied entry to the man who embodies it.
But this is not about America alone. The UK’s call for transparency is a classic British muddle: we want the benefits of globalisation without its messy consequences. We want to lecture the Americans on their visa policies while we tighten our own immigration laws. This is the hypocrisy of the post-colonial elite. We lament the decline of the rules-based order, yet we cheer every time a border is sealed. We are like decadent Romans, mourning the loss of the Republic while feasting on its corpse.
Artan’s denial is a symptom of a deeper intellectual decadence. The West has lost faith in its own values. We no longer believe that an African refugee can be a symbol of impartial justice. Instead, we see a threat. We see a man who might, God forbid, stay. This is the rot. We have replaced the ideal of universalism with the petty tribalism of the nation-state. The World Cup, the last great utopian gathering, is being dragged into the mire of geopolitics.
Consider the historical parallels. In the Victorian era, the British Empire opened its doors to talent from its colonies. Men like Dadabhai Naoroji or Sir James Mackay were welcomed precisely because they upheld the empire’s values. Today, we slam the door on a referee from Somalia, a country Britain once colonised. We have traded the paternalism of empire for the parochialism of the gated community. It is not an improvement.
What, then, is to be done? The UK’s call for transparency is a start, but it is insufficient. We need a radical rethinking of what globalism means. Not the globalism of Davos elites, but the globalism of shared values. We must decide whether the World Cup is a tournament of nations or a tournament of ideas. If it is the latter, then no referee should be denied entry on the basis of fear. If it is the former, then let us be honest: we are no better than the closed societies we claim to abhor.
Artan will likely be rescheduled. The show will go on. But the damage is done. We have seen the future: a world of walls, screens, and suspicion. A world where the umpire is the enemy. It is not a pleasant prospect. The Fall of Rome was not a single event but a series of small failures. Artan’s denial is one of them. Let us hope it is not the last.
