France will not advance to the Football World Cup final. After losing 2–0 to Spain, the journey of the team that was considered the favourite came to an end in Dallas on France’s National Day—some humiliations are harder to swallow than others.
With all due respect to the disappointed French fans, who furiously voted online to give this semifinal match a poor rating as a way to punish their champions, it was a great game—from the Spanish side, at any rate. A truly beautiful game, precise and well-structured, with perfect ball control—both individually and as a team—whereas the French stood out for their sloppiness, their haphazard strategy, their clumsy moves, and their inability to seriously keep possession for more than three minutes.
But we’re not here to write a sports column; others will handle that far better than we can.
The lesson to be drawn from what happened on the field at the Dallas stadium is as much—if not more—social and political as it is athletic.
For decades—indeed, the origins of this can be traced back to the victory of the so-called “Black, Blanc, Beur” (“black, white, and Arab”) French team at the 1998 World Cup—the French national football team has been built not only for its athletic performance but also to convey a political message: that of positive diversity and the success of immigration.
The French national team’s coaches were happy to contribute to this political project, even though it was by no means a sure thing from a sporting standpoint: having a majority of players of African descent, with their own distinct playing styles and physical characteristics, is no guarantee of victory. Italy in 2006 and Argentina in 2022 both won with teams that were predominantly, if not exclusively, white.
On the French side, the victories have come one after another—at the national level as well as at the local club level, as demonstrated once again by the recent victory of Paris Saint-Germain, a team built on the same model that won the most recent Champions League. The facts were there, stubbornly, tournament after tournament, to support the theory, fueling the dreams of thousands of young immigrants in the suburbs—from Algeria, Ivory Coast, or Cameroon—who imagined a sporting destiny with France filled with astronomical salaries and televised glory, without ever needing to love France.
When it came to football, the Left and the media had grown accustomed to playing with the ideas of racism and anti-racism as they saw fit and solely for their own ideological interests. Pointing out the excessive presence of Black players on the French national team is considered proof of racism. Highlighting its ethnic diversity, a badge of honour. Since last night, one of the few white players on the French national team, Lucas Digne, has been the target of a full-scale online witch hunt on social media for conceding a penalty to the Spanish team. But in his case, no one is speaking out to denounce the anti-white racism of those who are hurling insults at him.
For some time now, despite the media backlash, dissenting voices have been making themselves heard. The most recent example was former Prime Minister Rajoy’s statement about the absence of French players on the French national team, which in a way lifted the veil on a deeper defeat even before the match was played: the defeat of a country that no longer knows how to trust its own children.
If there’s one thing to be glad about, it’s that France’s defeat in the semifinals against Spain has dealt a serious blow to the myth.
Last night, contrary to all expectations at the end of the match, the streets of Paris were desperately empty and silent–except for the usual suspects rioting (who likely would have done the same had France won.) At around 11 p.m., I opened the window, and only a warm breeze, reminiscent of a desert wind, brushed against my cheek.
Usually, on the evening of July 14th, the capital—like so many other cities in France—resounds with the joyful roar of fireworks set off for the national holiday, which light up the sky with flashes of blue, white, and red and a shower of golden sparks. In Paris, as in so many other cities, numerous mayors had decided yesterday to postpone the fireworks or cancel them altogether so as not to interfere with the football match, which risked keeping most spectators glued to their screens. It was highly symbolic: a football match was chosen over a long-standing tradition, a historic symbol of national reconciliation.
The match was lost; all that remained was emptiness and silence, which could only have reinforced the unpleasant feeling among many French people that they had lost everything. Had the fireworks display—held in honour of the storming of the Bastille in 1789 and the Fête de la Fédération in 1790—gone ahead, it would have connected them to the grand sweep of history, to that which transcends us and endures—a sign that one day, serious struggles and bloody tragedies are ultimately overcome by popular joy. Even though sporting competitions have many merits for the public spirit, football does not have that power.
Football World Cup: The Bastille of Diversity Fell on July 14th
Banners reading “Paris with the Bleus” displayed in support of France’s national football team hang on the facade of the Paris City Hall on July 14, 2026, ahead of the 2026 FIFA World Cup semifinal between France and Spain.
MARTIN LELIEVRE / AFP
You may also like
Before Plymouth: The Forgotten Spanish Foundations of America
From St. Augustine to the California missions and the American Revolution, Spain played a formative role in shaping the history, culture, and institutions of the future United States.
Islam’s European Slave Trade
The pirates don’t raid European towns now; they live there.
Neither Moscow’s Chapel nor Brussels’ Ledger
The Church should not become the government’s alibi. Its role is to preserve the distinction Moscow has violated and Brussels risks misunderstanding: the Church is not the state, and the faith is not the man who exploits it.
France will not advance to the Football World Cup final. After losing 2–0 to Spain, the journey of the team that was considered the favourite came to an end in Dallas on France’s National Day—some humiliations are harder to swallow than others.
With all due respect to the disappointed French fans, who furiously voted online to give this semifinal match a poor rating as a way to punish their champions, it was a great game—from the Spanish side, at any rate. A truly beautiful game, precise and well-structured, with perfect ball control—both individually and as a team—whereas the French stood out for their sloppiness, their haphazard strategy, their clumsy moves, and their inability to seriously keep possession for more than three minutes.
But we’re not here to write a sports column; others will handle that far better than we can.
The lesson to be drawn from what happened on the field at the Dallas stadium is as much—if not more—social and political as it is athletic.
For decades—indeed, the origins of this can be traced back to the victory of the so-called “Black, Blanc, Beur” (“black, white, and Arab”) French team at the 1998 World Cup—the French national football team has been built not only for its athletic performance but also to convey a political message: that of positive diversity and the success of immigration.
The French national team’s coaches were happy to contribute to this political project, even though it was by no means a sure thing from a sporting standpoint: having a majority of players of African descent, with their own distinct playing styles and physical characteristics, is no guarantee of victory. Italy in 2006 and Argentina in 2022 both won with teams that were predominantly, if not exclusively, white.
On the French side, the victories have come one after another—at the national level as well as at the local club level, as demonstrated once again by the recent victory of Paris Saint-Germain, a team built on the same model that won the most recent Champions League. The facts were there, stubbornly, tournament after tournament, to support the theory, fueling the dreams of thousands of young immigrants in the suburbs—from Algeria, Ivory Coast, or Cameroon—who imagined a sporting destiny with France filled with astronomical salaries and televised glory, without ever needing to love France.
When it came to football, the Left and the media had grown accustomed to playing with the ideas of racism and anti-racism as they saw fit and solely for their own ideological interests. Pointing out the excessive presence of Black players on the French national team is considered proof of racism. Highlighting its ethnic diversity, a badge of honour. Since last night, one of the few white players on the French national team, Lucas Digne, has been the target of a full-scale online witch hunt on social media for conceding a penalty to the Spanish team. But in his case, no one is speaking out to denounce the anti-white racism of those who are hurling insults at him.
For some time now, despite the media backlash, dissenting voices have been making themselves heard. The most recent example was former Prime Minister Rajoy’s statement about the absence of French players on the French national team, which in a way lifted the veil on a deeper defeat even before the match was played: the defeat of a country that no longer knows how to trust its own children.
If there’s one thing to be glad about, it’s that France’s defeat in the semifinals against Spain has dealt a serious blow to the myth.
Last night, contrary to all expectations at the end of the match, the streets of Paris were desperately empty and silent–except for the usual suspects rioting (who likely would have done the same had France won.) At around 11 p.m., I opened the window, and only a warm breeze, reminiscent of a desert wind, brushed against my cheek.
Usually, on the evening of July 14th, the capital—like so many other cities in France—resounds with the joyful roar of fireworks set off for the national holiday, which light up the sky with flashes of blue, white, and red and a shower of golden sparks. In Paris, as in so many other cities, numerous mayors had decided yesterday to postpone the fireworks or cancel them altogether so as not to interfere with the football match, which risked keeping most spectators glued to their screens. It was highly symbolic: a football match was chosen over a long-standing tradition, a historic symbol of national reconciliation.
The match was lost; all that remained was emptiness and silence, which could only have reinforced the unpleasant feeling among many French people that they had lost everything. Had the fireworks display—held in honour of the storming of the Bastille in 1789 and the Fête de la Fédération in 1790—gone ahead, it would have connected them to the grand sweep of history, to that which transcends us and endures—a sign that one day, serious struggles and bloody tragedies are ultimately overcome by popular joy. Even though sporting competitions have many merits for the public spirit, football does not have that power.
Our community starts with you
READ NEXT
Too Catholic To Be French Officers
Neither Moscow’s Chapel nor Brussels’ Ledger
From Horizontal to Vertical Reading: Reclaiming Permanence in the Age of Mass Publishing