On December 5, 2025, amid the glitz and spectacle of the 2026 FIFA World Cup final draw at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., an unexpected moment took center stage. President Donald Trump, a figure never far from controversy or the limelight, was awarded the inaugural FIFA Peace Prize. The honor, presented by FIFA president Gianni Infantino, quickly became one of the most talked-about—and divisive—events in recent sports and political memory.
Trump, standing before an audience of around 2,000 people, accepted a golden trophy, a medal, and a certificate from Infantino. "This is your prize, this is your peace prize," Infantino declared, handing over the newly minted award. Trump, beaming with pride, called it "one of the great honors of my life," and went on to claim, "we saved millions and millions of lives." He cited, among other examples, conflicts in the Congo, and tensions between India and Pakistan, asserting, "so many different wars we were able to end, in some cases just before they started." According to The Athletic, Trump's remarks echoed his long-standing, and widely disputed, claims of having ended multiple wars during his presidency.
The FIFA Peace Prize, announced just a month earlier, was shrouded in secrecy from the outset. FIFA’s own news release described it as an annual honor “to individuals who, through their unwavering commitment and their special actions, have helped to unite people all over the world in peace and consequently deserve a special and unique recognition.” Yet, as The Athletic reported, the process behind the award’s creation was anything but transparent. Neither FIFA’s 37-member Council nor its 211-member Congress were consulted or involved in selecting the winner or even establishing the criteria for the prize. When pressed by journalists and organizations such as Human Rights Watch about the selection process, FIFA declined to provide answers, fueling speculation that the award was designed specifically with Trump in mind.
The optics were hard to ignore. Infantino, who has cultivated a close relationship with Trump over the years, had previously sung the president’s praises, saying at a business forum in Miami, "He does what he says. He says what he thinks. He actually says what many people think as well, but maybe don’t dare to say, and that’s why he’s so successful." Just weeks before the World Cup draw, Infantino had even posted on Instagram that Trump “definitely deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for his decisive actions.”
For Trump, who has openly pined for a Nobel Peace Prize—an honor awarded to world leaders such as Barack Obama and, most recently, Venezuelan opposition leader María Corina Machado—the FIFA Peace Prize appeared to be a consolation of sorts. As Newsmax and The American Bazaar both observed, the timing felt tailored to soothe the president’s bruised ego after being passed over by the Nobel committee in 2025. Trump himself took to Truth Social the following day, writing, "Such a great honor. Thank you FIFA, and have a historic World Cup!"
Yet the award’s reception was far from universally positive. Critics swiftly pounced, arguing that FIFA, as the governing body of world soccer, is supposed to remain neutral, especially in matters so closely tied to global politics. Trump’s record, they pointed out, is hardly that of a peacemaker. His administration oversaw deadly military strikes on drug boats in the Caribbean, supported Israel’s controversial war in Gaza, and pursued aggressive policies against immigrants and adversarial states such as Venezuela. As The Athletic noted, Trump’s claims of brokering peace in regions like the Middle East and Africa are, at best, exaggerated and, at worst, outright disputed. The Abraham Accords, for example, did bring a measure of diplomatic normalization between Israel and some Arab states, but the broader region remains volatile, with ongoing violence between Israel and Hamas despite high-profile peace summits.
Fan groups and human rights organizations did not mince words. Football Supporters Europe called the prize "nothing more than an ego-stroking stunt." Human Rights Watch’s Minky Worden, speaking at a news conference, remarked, "You could infer that there is no process, there are no other nominees, there was no judging." Social media, too, was awash with jokes and memes lampooning the authenticity of the award. One viral post quipped, "I paid a lot of money for this fake PEACE prize."
Behind the scenes, the event was as much about geopolitics as it was about soccer. Trump stood onstage with Mexican president Claudia Sheinbaum and Canadian prime minister Mark Carney, the leaders of the three co-host nations for the 2026 World Cup. The trio participated in a ceremonial drawing of their national teams into the tournament’s groups, a symbolic gesture given that the groups had already been predetermined by FIFA. According to The Athletic, Trump was scheduled to meet with Sheinbaum and Carney later that day, marking his first in-person meeting with Sheinbaum and the first with Carney since contentious trade negotiations between the two countries.
Trump’s political actions in the days surrounding the award further fueled debate. As The American Bazaar recounted, he attempted to retroactively terminate pardons issued by his predecessor, Joe Biden, on the technicality that they were signed with an autopen—a device commonly used by presidents of both parties. He pardoned former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernández, who had been serving a 45-year sentence for drug trafficking, and Democratic Representative Henry Cuellar, who faced bribery charges. Trump also announced plans to expand missile strikes against drug traffickers in South America, stating his intent to "take those son of a bitches out," and dismissed concerns about the legality of such actions.
Despite the controversy swirling around both the award and his presidency, Trump remained unfazed. At the cabinet meeting held the morning after the ceremony, he dismissed concerns about his age and apparent fatigue, with the White House insisting he was "listening attentively and running the entire three-hour marathon cabinet meeting." Infantino, meanwhile, doubled down on his support, declaring, "It is absolutely crucial for the success of a World Cup to have a close relationship with the president."
While the FIFA Peace Prize may not carry the gravitas of the Nobel, its debut has certainly left a mark—if not on the cause of world peace, then on the intersection of sports, politics, and spectacle. For Trump, the recognition was a long-sought validation; for critics, it was a symbol of how far powerful institutions will go to curry favor with those in power. As the world turns its attention to the 2026 World Cup, the debate over the true meaning of peace—and who gets to define it—remains as heated as ever.
