For stateless peoples and unrecognised regions, political visibility is often non-existent. International summits, diplomatic negotiations, and global governance structures exclude them entirely. Yet, football offers an unlikely — but powerful — stage to assert identity on their own terms.

CONIFA tournaments provide more than just sport; they allow contested communities to symbolically step onto the world stage. The 2016 CONIFA World Football Cup in Abkhazia illustrates this vividly. Abkhazia, considered by most of the international community as part of Georgia but functionally operating under Russian-backed de facto independence, used the tournament to assert its nationhood. Stadiums were filled with flags, symbols, and messages of sovereignty. When Abkhazia won the competition, the president declared a national holiday — a statement as much about political defiance as sporting success.

While largely invisible to mainstream media, for the people of Abkhazia, the tournament offered legitimacy through visibility. It allowed them to project a version of nationhood to domestic audiences and a small, but symbolically significant, international audience.

These events may not deliver formal recognition, but they serve as cultural declarations: “We exist, and we belong on the global stage.”

Global sporting bodies often cling to the notion that sport is — or should be — apolitical. FIFA itself maintains this official line, despite ample evidence that major tournaments are deeply entangled with politics, diplomacy, and nation-building efforts.

CONIFA takes a similar stance, publicly claiming to be “apolitical and nondenominational.” But the reality on the ground tells a different story. Membership in CONIFA is effectively reserved for regions, territories, and peoples whose very existence is politically charged — Kurdistan, Tibet, Abkhazia, South Ossetia, Northern Cyprus, to name just a few.

The 2017 CONIFA European Football Cup, hosted in North Cyprus, makes this contradiction impossible to ignore. Northern Cyprus is recognised only by Turkey and remains under a FIFA embargo. Yet through CONIFA, it hosted an international football tournament, welcoming teams from other unrecognised territories. The slogan “Freedom to play football” adorned stadiums and merchandise — a clear, if understated, political message.

Despite claims of neutrality, CONIFA tournaments inherently challenge existing geopolitical boundaries. They provide platforms for groups sidelined by global governance — making the separation of sport and politics not only impractical but arguably disingenuous.

While CONIFA provides an essential platform for marginalised communities, its global impact remains constrained by limited visibility and resources. Unlike the FIFA World Cup or UEFA tournaments, CONIFA events struggle to attract media attention, commercial sponsorship, or significant spectator engagement.

Most tournaments take place in isolated, politically sensitive regions, with little international media coverage. The 2016 Abkhazia event, for example, was barely acknowledged outside the region — the Georgian media ignored it entirely, international broadcasters stayed away, and no formal attendance or financial figures were made public. This pattern repeats across many CONIFA tournaments, limiting their ability to influence broader political discourse or achieve lasting legacies for host communities.

An exception came in 2018 when the CONIFA World Football Cup was hosted across non-league stadiums in London. With the backing of a major sponsor — Paddy Power — and access to global media markets, the event attracted substantial coverage. Over 400 journalists attended, games were live-streamed, and millions engaged with CONIFA’s digital platforms (Rookwood, 2019).

This brief surge in visibility revealed the latent potential of these events — but also highlighted the stark contrast between tournaments held in globally connected cities versus isolated, politically unstable regions.

For some members, CONIFA is not the final destination, but a temporary waypoint on the road to greater recognition — particularly through FIFA membership. Football becomes a form of soft power, a mechanism to assert statehood, cultivate national pride, and build diplomatic credibility.

Kosovo illustrates this trajectory. Initially aligned with CONIFA’s predecessor, the Non-FIFA Board, Kosovo distanced itself from alternative tournaments as it pursued formal FIFA membership. After declaring independence in 2008, Kosovo gained FIFA admission in 2016, using international football as a tool to cement its legitimacy on the world stage (Guillianotti et al., 2016).

But this pathway is the exception, not the rule. For many CONIFA members, political circumstances render FIFA membership a distant, often impossible, ambition. Entities like Abkhazia, Artsakh, and South Ossetia remain locked in geopolitical disputes with little realistic hope of wider recognition. For them, CONIFA may be the only available outlet for international competition, visibility, and cultural expression (Keating, 2018).

This raises an uncomfortable truth: while CONIFA offers a symbolic platform, it risks becoming a permanent alternative rather than a bridge to broader inclusion. For some, these tournaments represent aspiration. For others, they are a reminder of entrenched political marginalisation.

Not all CONIFA events — or their impacts — are created equal. Where these tournaments are held profoundly shapes their visibility, credibility, and potential to influence international narratives. In effect, the geography of these events reveals the unequal pathways to legitimacy.

When tournaments take place in disputed, isolated, or politically unstable regions — Abkhazia, South Ossetia, Artsakh — they remain largely invisible to global audiences. Travel restrictions, media blackouts, and security concerns limit both participation and coverage. Local communities may celebrate symbolic victories, but the outside world remains unaware, reinforcing the region’s exclusion.

Contrast this with the 2018 CONIFA World Football Cup in London. Staged in one of the world’s most connected cities, supported by a global sponsor, and covered by major media outlets, the event offered participating teams — including those from unrecognised territories — unprecedented exposure. Matches were live-streamed, journalists reported widely, and, for a brief moment, otherwise marginalised nations were seen and heard.

The lesson is clear: legitimacy is unevenly distributed, and the location of these tournaments either amplifies or silences their intended message. Without access to global platforms, many of these communities remain caught in a cycle of symbolic recognition without tangible political progress.