Gianni Infantino Abandons Controversial World Cup Profit Plan

Gianni Infantino has scrapped his most explosive idea yet – a plan to sell a slice of future World Cup profits to private equity – after a week in which the walls closed in on the FIFA president from every direction.

The climbdown came in the dead of night. At 12.30am BST, FIFA released a short, carefully worded statement attributed explicitly to “the FIFA president”. No fanfare. No apology. Just the confirmation that the FIFA Forward Enterprise (FFE) project, unveiled with such bullish confidence only days earlier, was dead.

A $20bn vision meets a global revolt

Infantino’s proposal was bold and brazen. FFE was pitched as a new commercial vehicle bundling together FIFA’s most valuable assets – broadcasting, sponsorship, ticketing and licensing – alongside the operational delivery of its tournaments.

Under the plan, FIFA wanted to raise up to $4.2bn (£3.1bn) from external investors by selling minority, non‑controlling stakes in the new entity, which it said could be valued at around $20bn (£15bn). In return, the governing body promised more than $10bn in “football development funding” over the next four years.

Member associations were given a deadline of September 19 and offered a £30.1m sweetener to back the scheme. The message was clear: sign up, and the money will flow.

Instead, the backlash did.

UEFA, CONCACAF and the Asian Football Confederation (AFC) lined up against the project. The English FA voiced “deep concern”. On social media, Prime Minister Andy Burnham cut through the corporate language with a simple reminder: “football belongs to fans”.

Inside FIFA, the mood was even more toxic.

Internal revolt: ‘Bad deal for football’

The pressure spiked when Carlos Cordeiro, one of Infantino’s senior advisors, resigned in protest. A former banker and long-time football figure, Cordeiro walked away calling the privatisation plan a “bad deal for football” and “for the long-term future of the game”.

“As a senior advisor to the FIFA president, a former banker, and a lifelong football fan, I cannot stand by while FIFA considers selling a stake in the World Cup,” he said in a statement. “Let me be clear: I had no involvement in this proposal, and I oppose it unequivocally.”

He was not alone. Kevin Lamour, FIFA’s chief operating officer, accused the leadership of deceiving staff and condemned the lack of openness around the project. He described it as “the project of one person” and said FIFA employees “deserve better than contempt and intimidation”.

Those interventions landed just hours after FIFA had tried to steady the ship with a defensive line: “nobody is selling football”. By then, few believed it.

The narrative had shifted. This was no longer a debate about financial engineering. It had become a test of Infantino’s authority.

Infantino backs down – but not with a bow

When the president finally blinked, he framed the retreat as an act of unity, not surrender.

“The FIFA Forward Enterprise project was intended to provide a basis for further strengthening our FIFA Member Associations and our sport worldwide, especially in those countries where support is most needed,” Infantino said in his early-hours statement.

He stressed that the plan would only ever have gone ahead with majority backing from member associations and after consultation with the FIFA Council, confederations and “wider stakeholders”.

“Having listened carefully to all the views, it has become clear that the project has created divisions of a nature that, regardless of the level of support, are no longer in the interest of the objective set out in the first place,” he said. “Our purpose has always been – and will always be – to unite and improve.

“As a result, this proposal will not proceed. Moving forward, my intent is to bring all interested parties back together in the coming days and weeks in the spirit of shared interest in our game, and with the objective to continue growing football everywhere, particularly in those countries that mostly need our support.”

The word “sorry” was nowhere to be found.

Asia welcomes a retreat

From Kuala Lumpur, the reaction from the AFC was telling. Its president, Sheikh Salman bin Ibrahim Al Khalifa – who finished second to Infantino in the FIFA presidential election a decade ago – welcomed the U-turn.

Writing on the AFC website, he underlined how any move of this scale must be handled.

“Any initiative that has the potential to impact global football will be presented and discussed with the Confederations, the FIFA Council, Member Associations and other stakeholders in a timely, transparent and meaningful manner,” he wrote.

“The future of global football must always be shaped through proper consultation, collective dialogue and respect for the established governance structures of our game.”

It was polite, but pointed. The message was clear: this is how FIFA should have done it in the first place.

A president fighting for his job

Behind the formal statements lies a harsher reality for Infantino. This was not just a policy defeat; it was a public humiliation that has exposed the fragility of his power base.

Up until this week, the March FIFA presidential election looked like a procession. Infantino had the backing of more than 200 of FIFA’s 211 member associations, including the English FA. A contested race seemed unlikely.

Now, that certainty has evaporated.

It is notoriously difficult to unseat a FIFA president, and Infantino has shown repeatedly that he intends to cling on for as long as the statutes allow. Yet many of those national federations who once queued up to endorse him are now quietly reassessing their options.

By November 18, potential challengers must declare their candidacy. Between now and then, conversations in hotel lobbies, confederation offices and private boardrooms will centre on one question: is this the moment to move against him?

The names in the shadows

If there is to be a challenge, who leads it?

Nasser Al-Khelaifi, the Paris Saint-Germain president and one of the most powerful figures in the game, has been mentioned in some quarters. He sits on the UEFA executive committee and commands influence across Europe and beyond. Yet those close to him insist he has no interest in replacing Infantino.

More realistic names are already within the existing power structure.

Sheikh Salman, the AFC president and long-standing critic of the sell-off plans, would instantly carry weight, especially across Asia and parts of Africa. Victor Montagliani, the CONCACAF president, has historically been close to Infantino, but his confederation publicly rejected the proposal on Thursday. That shift will not have gone unnoticed.

Then there is Aleksander Ceferin. The UEFA president has a radically different vision of how football should be run. Under his watch there would be no hydration breaks for broadcast windows, no FIFA Peace Prizes, no Qatari-owned private jets for the president, no $1m (£742,000) World Cup tickets. He would be a popular candidate in many quarters.

Yet Ceferin has never publicly shown any desire to move to Zurich and take over FIFA. For now, his name sits in the realm of speculation rather than intention.

Yesterday’s man?

Infantino’s problems extend beyond Zurich’s glass offices and FIFA’s internal politics. He also has explaining to do to the bankers and investors he courted behind closed doors for a project that has collapsed in a matter of days.

And then there is Donald Trump. The former US president has long prided himself on backing winners. Infantino promised him something he could not deliver.

In the world Trump inhabits, there is little patience for failure. The question now is not just whether FIFA’s member associations still believe in their president – but how long it will be before even Trump decides that Gianni Infantino is yesterday’s man.