By Paul Okoku

Is it greed or growth? Barely weeks after the conclusion of a commercially successful 2026 FIFA World Cup, world football has found itself confronting a very different contest. This one is not being played inside a stadium. It is being fought over money, governance, transparency, power — and ultimately the question of who owns the future of the world’s game. At the center is FIFA President Gianni Infantino and the now-abandoned FIFA Forward Enterprise proposal, an ambitious plan that would have created a new FIFA-controlled commercial company valued at approximately $20 billion and opened a minority stake to private investors.

The proposal collapsed following intense international opposition. But the controversy did not collapse with it. Instead, it has opened a much larger debate about Infantino’s leadership and exposed significant divisions within the global football family. And perhaps the most uncomfortable question is also the simplest: Was this about growing football — or had the commercialisation of football finally gone too far? First, what was actually proposed?
There is an important distinction. FIFA was not proposing to “sell the World Cup for $20 billion.”

Under its proposal, FIFA Forward Enterprise — FFE — would have consolidated many of FIFA’s commercial and event-related activities into a separate FIFA-controlled company with an initial valuation of approximately $20 billion.

FIFA proposed selling a minority, non-controlling interest in that company to outside investors, potentially raising up to approximately $4.2 billion. FIFA maintained that it would retain ultimate control over football governance, sporting regulations, competitions and the international match calendar.

And Infantino’s argument was compelling on its surface. The additional commercial capital, FIFA said, could help generate more than $10 billion in development funding over future cycles for its 211 member associations.

For countries where football infrastructure remains inadequate, women’s football remains underfunded, youth development remains inconsistent and national federations struggle commercially, that is not an insignificant proposition.

Infantino called it an opportunity to accelerate — even “turbocharge” — football development around the world.

That argument deserves to be heard. But so does the opposition. The question wasn’t only about money.

The controversy was not simply about whether private investment is good or bad. It was about ‘process’.

Who conceived the proposal? Who was consulted? Why was such a consequential restructuring presented on such an accelerated timetable? What rights would private investors ultimately acquire?
What return would those investors expect?

What influence might economic ownership eventually create, even where sporting control technically remained with FIFA? And perhaps most importantly: Should an organisation entrusted with stewardship of the world’s game monetise future revenues today without an extraordinary level of consultation and transparency?

Those questions ignited resistance. UEFA emerged as perhaps the strongest opponent. Concacaf’s 41 member associations also rejected the proposal, expressing serious concerns about process, governance and consultation. Opposition emerged elsewhere, while senior figures inside FIFA itself reportedly raised objections. Then came a significant resignation.

Carlos Cordeiro, a senior adviser to Infantino, former president of U.S. Soccer and former Goldman Sachs executive, stepped down while publicly questioning the wisdom of the proposal.

His objection went directly to the financial argument.

If FIFA is already financially strong, possesses substantial reserves and carries no comparable commercial desperation, why should it exchange part of the future economic value of its greatest assets for billions of dollars today? That is a legitimate question. Private capital is rarely charitable capital. Investors invest because they expect returns.

Football therefore needed to know not merely how much money would enter the game, but eventually where the return on that money would come from. More matches? Higher ticket prices? Greater commercial saturation? New competitions? More expensive broadcasting rights?

Greater pressure on supporters? Or efficiencies capable of generating the promised returns without changing the character of the game?

Those questions were never sufficiently settled before the proposal unraveled.

Infantino Retreats
Facing escalating opposition, Infantino withdrew the FIFA Forward Enterprise proposal. But withdrawal did not end the political crisis. FIFA’s leadership subsequently gathered in Rabat, Morocco, for extraordinary discussions over the fallout.

FIFA acknowledged mistakes in both the process surrounding the proposal and its communication.

Infantino and FIFA Secretary General Mattias Grafström apologised. And FIFA’s management leadership publicly reaffirmed its “full support” for Infantino. That should normally have brought stability.

Instead, the battle intensified.

UEFA has maintained that withdrawing the proposal alone does not resolve the problem. Its larger concern is confidence in FIFA’s leadership and assurances that something similar cannot simply reappear in another form.

This has therefore moved beyond one failed investment proposal.

It has become a governance crisis. Then there is Africa. And this is where the story becomes far more complicated than a simple narrative of Infantino against the world. Africa has significant reasons to view the FIFA president differently.

On April 29, 2026, the 54 member associations of the Confederation of African Football unanimously agreed to support Infantino for another FIFA presidential term covering 2027 to 2031. Nigeria was among them.

And as pressure on Infantino has intensified following the collapse of FFE, prominent African football administrators have continued to support him.
Why? Money cannot be ignored. But neither should development. Under Infantino, FIFA Forward funding has become extremely important to football associations across Africa and other developing regions.

Training centers, pitches, technical programmes, women’s football, youth competitions and federation infrastructure frequently depend upon resources originating from FIFA.

For Europe’s richest football nations, the calculation is different. Their domestic leagues command billions.

Their broadcasting markets are enormous. Their sponsorship structures are mature.Their football economies can survive largely on their own commercial strength.

That is not the reality across much of Africa. So, when FIFA tells a smaller federation that a new commercial model could deliver dramatically greater development funding, that federation cannot be expected to evaluate the proposal from precisely the same economic perspective as England, Germany, France or Spain.

That does not mean Africa should support Infantino unquestioningly. It means Africa’s position deserves to be understood rather than patronised. But Africa must also ask difficult questions. Supporting development funding should never require surrendering scrutiny.

Africa should ask exactly the same governance questions Europe is asking. Where will the investment originate? Who are the investors? What contractual rights will they obtain?

What return will they demand? How will conflicts of interest be prevented? Who independently values FIFA’s commercial assets? What safeguards prevent today’s minority commercial investor from acquiring greater influence tomorrow? And how do member associations ensure that development money does not become political leverage?

Those questions are particularly important because FIFA operates on the principle that each national association receives one vote. Brazil has one. Germany has one. Nigeria has one.
Djibouti has one. The United States has one.

That democratic architecture is one of football’s greatest equalisers. But when some federations depend significantly more heavily on FIFA funding than others, financial relationships and political relationships can inevitably become difficult to separate.

That does not prove corruption. It does make transparency indispensable. Is it Greed? That is the tempting accusation. But it may also be the least useful starting point.

There is no evidence that allows us simply to declare that Gianni Infantino’s motivation was personal greed.

What can legitimately be questioned is whether FIFA under Infantino has developed an increasingly aggressive appetite for commercialisation.

The Club World Cup expanded. Commercial revenues expanded. The global calendar became more crowded. And now came a proposal that would have introduced external equity investors into a commercial structure containing some of football’s most valuable properties.

At some point football must determine the difference between commercial growth and commercial overreach.

Generating revenue is not inherently wrong. Without revenue there is no meaningful global development. The question is whether financial expansion remains the servant of football — or whether football is gradually becoming the servant of financial expansion. That distinction matters enormously. Who Owns Football?

Ultimately, that may be the question that survives long after FIFA Forward Enterprise disappears.

FIFA does not own football in the conventional sense. Neither does UEFA. Neither does CAF.

Neither do private investors, television networks, sponsors or governments. These institutions are custodians. The game belongs culturally to generations of players, supporters, coaches, communities and nations that have built it.

Administrators have a responsibility to grow its revenues. They also have an obligation to protect its inheritance.

That means FIFA should not reject new financial ideas merely because they are unconventional. But transformational proposals involving the economic future of the World Cup should never appear to emerge faster than the governance structures designed to scrutinize them.

If an idea is genuinely good enough for football, it should also be good enough to survive transparency.

The Bigger Test for Infantino
The collapse of FIFA Forward Enterprise does not automatically mean the end of Gianni Infantino.

Africa remains enormously important. So do parts of Asia, Oceania and other associations that recognise the development gains made during his presidency.

UEFA’s opposition is powerful, but FIFA presidents are elected by the wider global membership — not by Europe alone. The real political battle may therefore arrive at the FIFA Congress in Rabat on March 18, 2027.

But there is a much more important question than whether Infantino wins another election.

What has FIFA learned? If the lesson is simply that this particular proposal was politically impossible, nothing meaningful will have changed.

If the lesson is that major decisions require consultation, independent scrutiny, disclosure, institutional checks and genuine consent from football’s stakeholders, then this crisis may ultimately strengthen FIFA. Football needs investment. African football unquestionably needs more resources.

Developing football nations deserve a much larger share of the wealth created by the global game. But development and accountability are not enemies. They must travel together.

Because the real danger is not simply private capital. The real danger is allowing any individual, institution, confederation or investor to believe that football’s extraordinary global inheritance is theirs alone to reshape.

The World Cup can generate billions. Its value, however, is greater than its valuation. And that is something FIFA — and everyone entrusted with governing the beautiful game — must never forget.

• Okoku, FIFA Legend, former Flying Eagles Vice-Captain and ex-Super Eagles writes from USA