“Keep politics out of football.” Really?
It’s one of those phrases that gets thrown around every time a player kneels, a banner goes up, or a commentator mentions something that isn’t a scoreline. But here’s the truth: football has never been free of politics. Not in the past, not now, and not in the foreseeable future.
From the 1934 World Cup in Mussolini’s Italy to the free football tickets accepted by today’s UK Prime Minister, politics and football are as intertwined as money and goals. When people say “don’t bring politics into football,” they’re about fifty years too late. It’s already here — baked into the system.
Power, Pride and Propaganda: Football’s Political DNA
Even in Britain, football has long been a vessel for national identity. After the Second World War, football was positioned as a working-class unifier, a source of pride and morale during hard times. Governments and monarchs attended FA Cup finals because they knew what football symbolised: community, belonging, and, yes, political capital.
So when someone insists football should “just be about sport,” they’re ignoring a century of evidence that it never was.
When Politics Did Football a Favour
Of course, not all political involvement has been corrosive. Some of football’s finest moments came when the game and politics teamed up for good.
During the 1980s, global sporting sanctions against apartheid South Africa sent a message louder than any speech. The refusal to play — and FIFA’s eventual expulsion of South Africa — turned football into a moral force that helped pressure the regime.
In more recent years, players like Marcus Rashford have proven that using a platform politically can help society. Rashford’s campaign to extend free school meals in the UK wasn’t a stunt; it was a political act rooted in empathy. And it worked. Millions of children benefited — because a footballer dared to engage in politics.
Even on the global stage, “football diplomacy” has occasionally built bridges where politicians couldn’t. The 1998 World Cup match between the United States and Iran was framed as a symbolic gesture of peace; players exchanged flowers before kick-off. Football has the power to provoke change, soften hostilities, and reflect the better side of politics — when used wisely.
When Politics Poisoned the Game
But that same link can rot the sport from the inside. History is full of cautionary tales:
- The 1978 Argentina World Cup, orchestrated by a regime that was “disappearing” its own citizens.
- The tight government control of clubs in Eastern Europe during the Cold War.
- The violent nationalism that erupted across the Balkans in the 1990s — where football became a stage for ethnic conflict, not unity.
Even in the UK, football has carried its share of political baggage. The sectarian divide between Celtic and Rangers in Scotland, for instance, remains one of the most visible intersections of sport, religion, and politics. Football reflects society’s fractures as much as its passions.
Modern Britain: Free Tickets, Free Influence
If you think that era of politicised football ended long ago, think again. The corridors of Westminster are buzzing with club invites and corporate hospitality.
According to The Guardian, Prime Minister Keir Starmer has accepted more than £35,000 worth of free football tickets over the past few years. He defended the practice, telling Sky News
Fair enough — but it doesn’t look great when the same Premier League clubs and executives handing out those freebies are also lobbying the government over new regulation.
In October 2024, The Guardian, revealed that the Premier League had launched a £100,000 “freebies operation” aimed at MPs and ministers, right as the government debated the creation of an independent football regulator. The league’s goal? To soften opposition and shape the bill’s powers in its favour.
ITV News, later confirmed that several ministers accepted these perks — all “within the rules,” of course. Yet, the optics are undeniable: football’s wealthiest institutions entertaining politicians while lobbying against stronger oversight.
When the people in charge of writing football regulation are sitting in free VIP boxes, the line between governance and influence blurs faster than a VAR decision.
The Great Paywall: Politics of Access
If you want another example of how politics shapes football, just look at your television.
According to Hansard, not a single Premier League match this season has been shown on free-to-air television. All 380 fixtures are locked behind paywalls on Sky, TNT Sports and Amazon. For fans, that means the national sport — the one that fills pubs, parks and playgrounds — is now commercially gated.
The government could change that. There have been proposals, including one from the Liberal Democrats, to make at least ten matches per season available free-to-air (The Independent). But no such reform has passed. Why? Because the Premier League’s broadcasting deals are worth billions — and the political appetite to challenge those interests is minimal.
Money speaks loudly. When those same moneyed bodies are wining and dining ministers, the silence of policy-makers starts to sound a lot like complicity.
Corruption, Lobbying and the Grey Zone
Let’s be clear: no one is accusing the Prime Minister or MPs of outright bribery. But football’s ecosystem of “gifts” and access sits in a murky ethical zone.
The Premier League’s lobbying blitz wasn’t technically illegal — but it was strategic. Each free ticket, each lunch, each private box seat is a subtle reminder of football’s financial power. It builds relationships. It shapes attitudes. It influences votes.
We’ve seen similar stories globally. The takeover of Newcastle United F.C. by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund was more than a business transaction — it was a diplomatic move, involving quiet nods from within government. Football, again, was an instrument of political narrative and international image-building.
When football’s billion-pound interests meet political decision-makers, the handshake is rarely innocent.
Whose Politics Are We Talking About?
Here’s the irony: the people who shout “don’t bring politics into football” rarely complain when politicians and billionaires are the ones doing the influencing. They only get upset when politics comes from the bottom — when players take the knee, when fans raise human-rights flags, when inclusivity enters the conversation.
National anthems, military fly-pasts, royal cup finals, stadium subsidies — that’s all politics too. But because it’s familiar, it’s invisible. What’s rejected isn’t politics itself, but politics that makes people uncomfortable.
Football isn’t apolitical; it’s selectively political. And those selections are made by those in power.
Let’s Stop Pretending
Football doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It reflects the societies that build it — their inequalities, ambitions and hypocrisies. To say “keep politics out of football” is like saying “keep oxygen out of the air.”
Politics funds the stadiums, writes the rules, negotiates the broadcast rights, and appoints the regulators. It decides who can afford to watch, who owns the clubs, and who gets to benefit. The only question left is whose politics we’re allowing in.
So next time someone insists football should be “just about the game,” ask them this:
Who decided that every Premier League match should be behind a paywall?
Who’s sitting in free hospitality boxes while fans pay £100 for a seat?
Who’s shaping football policy behind closed doors?
Football doesn’t need to be less political. It needs to be more transparent — and far more honest about the politics already running through its veins.


