Football fans know that in 1930, Uruguay both hosted and won the first World Cup. But what’s less known is the diplomatic story behind how the country stepped onto the international sports scene. In the 1920s, Uruguay’s foreign minister—who also led one of the country’s two rival football associations—worked with a diplomat in Switzerland to get his federation recognized by joining FIFA. That diplomat also entered Uruguay into the 1924 Olympic football tournament in Paris, which was becoming the top stage for global football. This caused panic back home: no one expected him to do it, and no one knew how they’d pay for it. A federation official ended up using his own house as collateral for a loan to cover the team’s trip across the Atlantic.
Once in Europe, Uruguay quickly won people over. First, they played nine friendly matches in Spain, and then at the Olympics, they became the biggest attraction. The famous novelist Colette was even sent to the villa where Uruguay was staying to write about her impressions for the newspaper Le Matin. Playing brilliant, coordinated passing football, Uruguay won the gold medal at the Games.
“In South American diplomatic circles,” reported the pro-government Uruguayan newspaper El Día, “it’s said that the Uruguay team’s performance has done more for the country’s fame than thousands of dollars spent on propaganda.”
A national holiday was declared for the players’ return, and travel to the capital was subsidized so the whole country could join the celebration. The illustrated magazine Mundo Uruguayo claimed the team had proven Uruguay was a “civilized nation” that could export culture as well as meat. The success not only showed the world that Uruguay was its own country, not just a part of Argentina, but also seemed to support the ruling ideology of batllismo and the values it stood for: modernity, liberalism, rationality, and Uruguayan exceptionalism.
This wasn’t an unreasonable claim. Uruguayan football probably wouldn’t have been so good without a massive state education program that included physical training. That lesson was reinforced when Uruguay won the football gold again at the 1928 Olympics in Amsterdam.
When it was decided that football needed its own regular global competition separate from the Olympics—partly to allow professional players and partly because it was starting to overshadow other sports—Uruguay eagerly campaigned to host the tournament. President Juan Campisteguy invited FIFA’s president, Jules Rimet, for an asado at the presidential palace. From the start, the World Cup was a political event.
By coincidence, the tournament was scheduled to fall on the 100th anniversary of Uruguay’s constitution, which seemed like too good an opportunity to miss. A stunning, architecturally ambitious new stadium, the Centenario, was built and opened on the anniversary with Uruguay’s 1-0 win over Peru.
Twelve days later, Uruguay won the first World Cup final, beating Argentina 4-2. Less than 30 years after the civil wars that had shaken the country for decades, this was a huge moment of national celebration. Not that it helped Campisteguy much. The following year, as the full impact of the Wall Street Crash hit, he was overthrown in a coup.
The idea of the tournament as a showcase for national values was solidified in 1934. Benito Mussolini’s use of the second World Cup was an even more direct projection of Italy. For his regime, the tournament was about validation through both winning and hosting. Italy’s victory wasn’t without controversy, but as the Florentine weekly Il Bargello claimed, it was still “the affirmation of an entire people, a sign of its virile and moral strength.”Hosting well was perhaps even more important. This was especially true because Mussolini’s government had launched a stadium-building program, subsidized travel for fans to Italy and between host cities, produced and sold World Cup merchandise featuring the fascist logo, and arranged live radio broadcasts to every competing European nation, plus Egypt. Foreign visitors were deeply impressed. According to the Gazzetta dello Sport, their praise was “more than enough to show that Mussolini’s Italy—once the little Italy of improvisation and apologies—has organized the football festival with style, flexibility, precision, and even the courtesy and thoroughness that indicate absolute maturity and readiness.”
The pattern was set very early on. Every World Cup has, to some extent, been a reflection of the host country and its government. It can unite a nation around a common goal, and it can offer at least apparent proof of a country’s superiority. This can be a fairly innocent expression of national pride, as it was for Uruguay, or something more harmful, as it was for fascist Italy. Every World Cup—from Uruguay and Italy in 1930 and 1934, to Russia and Qatar in 2018 and 2022—has been partly about nation-building and presenting an image to the world.
What will it mean for the US, Canada, and Mexico? We’ll find out later this summer.
This was originally published in the newsletter The World Behind the Cup. Sign up for it here.
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs about how countries have used the World Cup to build national identity and the risks of that pride turning extreme
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What does it mean to build national identity through the World Cup
It means using the tournament to create a shared sense of belonging and pride among citizens When a team wins people feel like they are part of something bigger which strengthens their connection to their country
2 How can a sports event like the World Cup lead to fascism
It usually doesnt on its own But when a government or political movement uses the tournament to promote a single aggressive version of nationalismlike our people are superior or we must dominate othersit can fuel extreme authoritarian ideologies
3 Can you give a simple example of this happening
The most famous example is the 1934 World Cup in Italy Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini used Italys victory to promote his regime claiming it proved the strength and racial purity of the Italian people
4 Is all World Cup pride bad
No Healthy pride is about celebrating a teams achievement and feeling connected to your community It becomes a problem when that pride turns into hatred of other nations racism or support for oppressive leaders
5 Why do countries do this
Its a powerful tool A World Cup win creates a huge emotional high that can distract people from problems like poverty or corruption Leaders can then claim they are responsible for the national glory
AdvancedLevel Questions
6 How did the 1978 World Cup in Argentina specifically illustrate this risk
The military junta which was committing human rights abuses hosted the tournament They used Argentinas victory to distract the public censor critical media and promote a violent macho nationalism that justified their brutal rule It was a classic case of using sports to prop up a dictatorship
7 What is the difference between banal nationalism at a World Cup and the fascist version
Banal nationalism is the everyday harmless display of flags and chants The fascist version is deliberate stateled and aggressive It actively excludes minorities promotes a myth of racial or cultural superiority and uses the tournament to legitimize a repressive government
8 Are there modern examples of this trend
Yes Some critics point to
