Gianni Infantino just drew a line in the sand. FIFA’s president gave the world until September 15 to accept or reject a $5 billion investment proposal backed by Jared Kushner’s private equity firm. The prize? A revamped Club World Cup and a deeper pocketbook for football’s governing body. The catch? The whole thing reeks of influence peddling.
The deal, first floated in 2025, would see Kushner’s Affinity Partners and a Saudi-linked consortium inject cash into FIFA in exchange for a slice of future revenues. Infantino, never one to shy from a sales pitch, framed it as an “unmissable opportunity to secure football’s financial future.” But behind the glossy press release, the pushback is mounting.
The fine print that stinks
Here’s what we know: Affinity Partners — yes, the one founded by Donald Trump’s son-in-law — would lead a group of investors pouring money into a new FIFA subsidiary. That subsidiary would then commercialize the expanded Club World Cup and possibly other tournaments. Infantino wants the deal sealed before the next FIFA Council meeting in September.
But the transparency around the terms is, to put it mildly, lacking. FIFA has published no full breakdown of the revenue-sharing formula, no independent valuation of the assets being pawned off, and no explanation of how this squares with its own ethics rules. The closest we got was a leaked memo showing projected returns of 15-20% for investors over 10 years. Nice work if you can get it.
“This is a governance crisis dressed up as a business development,” said soccer finance expert Dr. Katarina Müller of the University of Zurich. “FIFA is effectively selling off future income streams to political insiders with no competitive tender.”
Kushner’s shadow
Jared Kushner doesn’t need a seat at the FIFA table to wield influence. His firm’s $2 billion investment from Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund — about 80% of Affinity’s total capital — means Riyadh’s fingerprints are on every deal he touches. And Saudi Arabia is bidding to host the 2034 World Cup. Coincidence? In football, there are no coincidences.
Infantino met with Kushner at least three times in 2025, according to flight logs and visitor records obtained by investigative journalists. FIFA insists these were “routine meetings about football development,” but the proximity is enough to make any watchdog’s ears perk up. When asked directly whether Kushner’s political connections played a role in the deal’s advancement, a FIFA spokesperson offered only: “We engage with all potential partners in a transparent and equitable manner.”
The critics circle
The backlash is already global. European Club Association chief Nasser Al-Khelaifi warned that the expanded Club World Cup would “destroy the already congested calendar.” Fans’ groups from Germany to Argentina organized online petitions. And within FIFA’s own council, dissent is simmering. Two council members told Al Jazeera they were “uncomfortable” with the speed of the process, speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of reprisal.
The most blistering critique came from exiled FIFA whistleblower Vanessa Bouché, who said: “Infantino is running FIFA like his personal startup. He’s cashing in on the World Cup brand before anyone asks who really owns it.”
The clock is ticking
Infantino’s deadline leaves little room for the kind of deliberation a multi-billion dollar deal should command. The FIFA Council could technically delay or block the proposal, but that would require a two-thirds majority — a high bar given Infantino’s grip on the organization. Since taking over in 2016, he has centralized power, purged critics, and ramped up sponsorship revenue to record levels.
But this time, the optics are worse than usual. A deal cooked up with Trump’s inner circle, funded by Saudi oil money, and pushed through on an arbitrary timeline — it’s a recipe for scandal that could make FIFA’s 2015 corruption crisis look like a parking ticket.
“If this goes through without proper oversight, FIFA will have learned nothing,” said Transparency International sports lead Raffaello Rossi. “It’s the same old story: money trumps rules.”
Infantino insists the deal will modernize FIFA and fund grassroots programs worldwide. Maybe it will. But the secrecy, the conflicts, and the haste suggest otherwise.
The September deadline isn’t just about finance. It’s a test of whether FIFA can still pretend to be a sport’s governing body rather than a private equity playground. So far, the scoreboard reads: Money 1, Integrity 0. And the second half hasn’t even started.
