NY, NJ Brace for World Cup Windfall as ICE Fears Chill Tourist Bookings

As New York and New Jersey prepare to host the world’s most-watched sporting event, anxieties over U.S. immigration policy threaten to upend the anticipated economic bonanza.

For decades, New York City has thrived on its reputation as the world’s urbs primus—a global melting pot where nearly 800 languages echo through its streets and tens of millions of tourists bustle annually. So it is something of a paradox that, as the city girds for the arrival of the 2026 FIFA World Cup, its business and tourism mandarins fret publicly: will the visitors actually show up? The question is not merely academic. Despite the hype surrounding football’s greatest spectacle, a bevy of thorny political headwinds risks turning this glittering opportunity into a puny economic return.

This summer, the New York-New Jersey region will serve as the primary American hub for the globe’s largest sporting event, capped by the final at the newly christened “New York New Jersey Stadium” in East Rutherford. Planners have spent years anticipating a windfall that, in theory, will far outstrip the city’s usual $70bn-a-year tourism industry. Local hoteliers, restaurateurs, and merchants are bracing for a torrent of football fanatics—the city’s hotel stock alone comprises more than 80,000 rooms, according to the Hotel Association of New York City.

Yet, optimism is undercut by a hardening sense that geopolitics could snuff out the expected influx. At issue are recent actions by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and the broader tone emanating from President Donald Trump’s White House, whose priorities—trade tariffs, hawkish border controls, and conspicuous immigration enforcement—cast a chilly pall on the city’s inclusive branding efforts. In a world of viral news and instantaneous messaging, perception can mutate into reality with breathtaking speed.

The effect is not theoretical. Aviation analytics firm Cirium reports a 21% drop in July bookings from Europe to New York area airports compared to last year, with sharper falls from travel stalwarts like Paris, Barcelona, and Frankfurt. In aggregate, flights from Europe to the United States are down 14%. This suggests that the region’s famous magnetic pull is straining against a backdrop of heightened scrutiny at the border. As Vijay Dandapani, head of the local hotel association, mordantly observes, to stoke such anxiety is to risk “self-inflicted economic wounds.”

The financial threat is real. Foreign visitors routinely spend four to five times what domestic tourists do. Even a modest contraction among this group, already stung by stories of tourists detained or grilled at airport customs, could wipe out much of the expected World Cup dividend. Only the most blinkered partisan would argue such “dragnet” policing bodes well for regional coffers. The trade-off, in blunt terms, is between ephemeral gestures of domestic security and cold, hard economic calculus.

Advocates for New York’s sizable immigrant communities, for their part, warn that ICE’s vow to station agents near World Cup venues will amplify fears—both among tourists and long-settled residents. No city in America is more interwoven into global migration networks than New York. Efforts by City Hall and business groups to counter these fears, including a targeted PR blitz in foreign capitals, have proven costly and, so far, insufficient.

The backdrop is a city once famed for wringing profit from the world’s curiosities. New York’s trademark has always been pragmatic openness—an opportunism that rarely lets ideology derail a good party, let alone a lucrative one. Now, however, that reflexive cosmopolitanism must contend with the polarising undertones of contemporary national politics. The local response has been a combination of ad campaigns (in South Korea, even) and studied reassurances, a messaging battle playing out as much in Seoul and Amsterdam as in Flushing Meadows or East Rutherford.

A high-stakes gamble in a fraught global moment

The stakes reach well beyond Manhattan. Hosting the World Cup confers not just pride but also a signal of belonging in the global club of preeminent cities. Yet, when government policy telegraphs ambiguity—at best—or outright hostility—at worst—the effects ripple outward, damaging both reputation and revenue. In comparison, rivals from London to Tokyo have long made hay by advertising their sleek border procedures and visitor-friendly policing.

America’s hardening tone toward visitors stands in contrast to efforts by other host cities, notably Toronto and Mexico City, to entice maximum international attendance. Both have liberal visa regimes, supportive municipal governments, and have seen little of the drop in bookings now dogging New York. Even within the volatile world of FIFA tournaments, the American numbers are paltry by precedent: the 2022 Qatar World Cup bucked fears of cultural discord and turned a reported profit of $6bn for its hosts.

For a city so dependent on foreign capital, the risks of mixed messaging are particularly acute. The economic logic is not hard to parse: badge-waving border agents dampen tourist demand just as surely as extortionate hotel pricing or duff weather. The irony is rather rich: a metropolis that became great by welcoming the world now finds itself hamstrung by a politics of suspicion.

What, then, is to be done? City officials and business leaders must redouble efforts to distinguish local realities from the national mood, lest New York’s brand be further diluted. Yet, it would be naïve to suppose even the most artful PR campaign can outflank the logic of policy. As matters stand, the region faces a tepid visitor season and, barring a late about-face, a cautionary tale for future mega-events.

Should New York muddle through this summer with fewer tourists and diminished revenue, it will offer a sobering lesson on the limits of soft power in an era of hard borders—a case study for other global cities caught between open economic ambition and the politics of exclusion. Astute leaders—both municipal and federal—would do well to note which approach yields more than paltry returns.

For now, the city’s hoteliers and restaurateurs keep fingers crossed—ever the pragmatists—hoping that the beautiful game’s siren call outweighs geopolitical static. But history suggests New York’s fortunes depend more on openness than on fortress thinking. The world may be watching; whether it will land at JFK is another matter entirely. ■