“Glob·al·i·sa·tion: the development of an increasingly integrated global economy marked especially by free trade, free flow of capital, and the tapping of cheaper foreign labour markets” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)
In the almost one-hundred-year history of the World Cup (Morocco/Portugal/Spain 2030 will be the centennial edition), only eight countries have won the tournament - Brazil (5), Italy (4), Germany (4), Argentina (3), France (2), Uruguay (2), England and Spain (1).
In a real sense, over the decades, the remainder of the globe merely provided the numbers. In the 2026 edition (this article is written during the Round of 32), the CONCACAF hosts are excelling; Australia and Japan saved face for the thoroughly disappointing Asians; and European pride is being ruffled, with Germany and Netherlands dumped by countries of lesser pedigree, but France is imperiously confirming it is “the new Brazil”.
The best continental group performance was African, with nine of ten representatives qualifying for the knockout phase, led by the remarkable debutants from Cabo Verde and world class Morocco. But since Cameroon beat Argentina in Italia 1990, African teams have failed to develop a winning mentality, as the Round of 32 is revealing.
South America’s performance has been a mixed bag. Indeed, group phase results demonstrate the continent has been caught by the rest of the world - witness Uruguay’s elimination in the group phase and Ecuador’s and Paraguay’s third-place qualification for the Round of 32 (due only to the expanded tournament format), in which Mexico battered the former on its way to victory.
A sea change is underway in international football, prompted by the increasing number of diaspora children born to emigrant parents who fled harsh lives and corrupt elites in their homelands, who now represent a country other than their country of birth. Almost a quarter of the 1,248 players at the 2026 World Cup were born in a different country from the one they represent.
Twenty years ago, at the 2006 World Cup, that number was less than nine per cent. FIFA’s eligibility rule changes have since globalised the talent pool of “smaller” countries, mainly in Africa, but even Bosnia and Curacao. I submit the following in evidence: Côte d’Ivoire beat Ecuador, Cabo Verde drew with Spain and Uruguay, Democratic Republic of Congo drew with Portugal, Algeria drew with Austria, and Morocco drew with Brazil and eliminated Netherlands. Argentina or Brazil may win the 2026 title but South America is no longer feared.
The fact is, South America’s devalued status echoes the continent’s centuries-old colonial relationship to the European metropole. In today’s globalised game, South American football, as football in Africa and the rest of the Global South, functions as a source of raw materials (talented players) that European clubs purchase cheap, refine and take to market for profit. The old colonial business model endures and it is the cause of a gradual decline of South American national teams (and clubs) on the global stage.
Colonialism by another name
“Our region still works as a menial. It continues to exist at the service of others’ needs, as a source and reserve of raw materials destined for rich countries.” (Eduardo Galeano, Uruguayan writer)
South America’s richest period of World Cup success precedes the modern European talent grab in its lands. From Uruguay (1930) through Brazil (1994), South America won eight of the first 15 World Cups. But the continent has won only two of the seven World Cups played since. While the individual genius of Ronaldo Nazário and Lionel Messi lifted Brazil and Argentina to the title in 2002 and 2022, respectively, the globalised football system assures overall European primacy. South American stars were a relative rarity in the European game during the early years of the World Cup. Despite a trickle of superstars in the 1950s and 1960s - such as Argentine Alfredo Di Stefano to Spain and Brazilian Jose Altafini to Italy - strict foreign player rules and long sea travel kept the numbers to a minimum.
Until the late 1970s, South American super clubs like Flamengo and Boca Juniors held on to their players and domestic leagues were as good as any in Europe. By the late 1980s, however, the European Union started allowing more foreigners into the European game and Italy’s Serie A became “the league”. The flow of stars like Maradona and Zico to Europe increased but South American clubs still held on to their talented players into their mid-twenties.
In the mid-1990s, however, wholesale export of South American talent began, facilitated by the so-called “Bosman ruling” of 1995, which allowed European players to become free agents, forcing clubs to seek cheaper non-European Union talent to replace them. South Americans were perfect. The simultaneous explosion of television broadcast revenue enriched European clubs while South American clubs stayed comparatively poor and vulnerable to lucrative offers for their players. Since that time, the age of players being exported to European clubs has dropped from the mid-twenties into the teenage years as Europe increasingly buys potential, not finished players.
Today, South American clubs are training academies for foreign markets, exporting approximately 2,500 professional players annually. Brazil and Argentina account for 70 per cent of the trade. The top player destinations are Portugal, Italy, Japan, Turkey, Spain and Mexico for Brazilians, with Chile, Mexico, and Spain for Argentines. European clubs have spent an estimated USD 25 billion in transfer fees on South American players since the year 2000, with Brazil being the primary beneficiary.
From 2003 to 2023, Brazilian clubs generated almost USD 7 billion in player transfer revenues, largely from European buyers. A massive portion of this spending first flows from “gateway” clubs (primarily in Portugal’s Primeira Liga and the Netherlands’ Eredivisie) and European giants often pay inflated prices for young South American stars once they have adapted to European conditions and competition - like Enzo Fernández of Argentina and Moisés Caicedo of Ecuador, who were both resold for a king’s ransom in the intra-European market. The globalisation of international football and the international economy unfolded in parallel in the new century, simultaneously driving and driven by the free flow of capital and labour. This had mixed consequences for South America and the Global South.
Where until the mid-1990s the South American player was a relatively unknown quantity in Europe, seen only every four years, today his World Cup opponents train with and play against him daily, amplified by his visibility on television. The mining of South American teenage talent by European clubs ensures the transformation of South American boys into European players holding South American passports. And on the domestic front, the unrelenting haemorrhage of young talent undermines the quality of South American clubs and leagues, transforming them into greenhouses for European football.
In the 2025 global league rankings of the International Federation of Football History and Statistics, Brazil’s Serie A is third behind the English Premier League and Spain’s La Liga, followed by Argentina Primera (8), Colombia Primera (10), Ecuador Liga Pro (14), Paraguay Primera (19) and Uruguay Primera (21). Europe’s “Big 5” leagues and clubs have much more lucrative broadcast deals than South American clubs and punch harder using South American players. Intercontinental club competition verifies this. The Intercontinental Cup was played (1960-2004) between Europe and South America, with South America winning 22 of its 43 editions. In 2004, the competition was globalised to include the champions of other FIFA Confederations. Since then, South America has won only 4 of 21 titles (the last by Brazilian club Corinthians in 2012). The wholesale export of talent within the globalised system secures Europe’s dominant place in the international football pyramid.
So what does all of this mean? The model successful national associations use in the modern game has four pillars: 1) elite youth academies, 2) a pathway into strong domestic leagues, 3) export of top talent to competitive foreign leagues, and 4) recruitment of diaspora and immigrant players. This model works best for mid-tier and diaspora-rich nations. France and Morocco cannot win without No 4. Yet South America’s failure to sustain a consistent challenge for World Cup titles in this century is rooted in No 3. Exporting talent too early undermines the base.
So can the continent fight off growing competition from the rest of the world and find its way back to parity with Europe? Modern football is guided by the principles of globalised capitalism and the current model will not change. It is profitable to both South American and European clubs, which are motivated by profit, not World Cup titles.
So unless the model changes, or unless they could guarantee a steady supply of phenomena like Ronaldo Nazário and Lionel Messi, the South American countries, their players and supporters are in for a long, difficult century as Europe’s talent farm.
