Immigration has brought so much talent to France, the world's third-ranked team, that many of its top players opt to play instead for their parental homeland.Martin Meissner/The Associated Press
France may not win this World Cup, but French football already has. When the tournament started, 99 players in it were born in France. And not just born in, but developed by.
France gets the best of them. Other nations – mainly in Africa – get the others. Morocco’s starting XI against Canada featured four French-born players (plus a Dutchman, two Spaniards, a Belgian and a Canadian).
America’s best player here, Folarin Balogun, was born in New York, but raised and trained in England. Norway’s Erling Haaland was also born in England and lived there until he was 3, and could play for that country if he cared to.
Canada’s absent superstar, Alphonso Davies, could have chosen to represent any one of three countries. Eventually, he could have picked the one he works in. At this level, if you have talent and drive, you can be from wherever you want to be.
That’s how it should be, everywhere, not just in football. That is the signal under the signal that the World Cup is trying to send us.
John Rapley: How the World Cup scored when leagues lifted nationality quotas
France is the epitome of this idea. Why? Obviously, they are better at identifying and cultivating young talent. This system is long established, centralized and collectivist. French football is a capitalist enterprise using a Soviet model.
Still, two things separate France from the rest. First, immigration. France is generally for it, because they have managed it better than their neighbours. France strongly favours integration. Football makes that possible. Most new arrivals end up in Paris and environs. This has created a sporting hothouse where most of the resources are.
If you told newcomers to a place that gardeners are the most esteemed members of that society, and then invited all of their kids to join the local gardening centre, you’d have some garden. France does that with football.
Second, they don’t get sore when the young players they’ve advantaged leave to go elsewhere.
“We’re proud that players trained in France represent their parents’ or grandparents’ countries of origin,” Hubert Fournier, technical director of the French football federation, told Le Monde. “They are also ambassador for our training system.”
Ayyoub Bouaddi, left, holds French citizenship but opts to play for Morocco. He is one of 99 French players taking part in the World Cup.Ashley Landis/The Associated Press
Even from a young age, a talented French player knows that while he may never play for France – though that is the goal – he could play for someone. That’s the tide that keeps the boats rising.
It’s more of a politico-economic lesson than a sporting one – open markets are good for everyone’s business. At the moment, France is getting the bulk of the benefit. But it’s shared with the Algerias and Congos of the world. That in turn creates a benefit for the end customer – you and me. We are all enjoying better football because France is willing to share.
Everyone is welcome to copy, refine or miniaturize this model. If they can’t, they can try peeling off some of France’s expert work force. This is how trade is meant to work.
Imagine a world where the French-born can only play for France. That’s the current isolationist vision of what comes next for all of us.
Cathal Kelly: America rigs the World Cup, then bows out as a laughingstock
France wouldn’t suffer in the short term. The team they have now would still be the same team. But the World Cup would be the lesser. Many countries in it would be less good, and therefore less fun. The viewing experience would be diminished.
Eventually, the French development system would start to pop rivets. Why try so hard if I’m not headed anywhere? You can read this onto a world where international mobility is reducing.
Immigration, and openness in general, are currently swimming against a hard current in this country. We’re scared by our uncertain circumstances, and when we’re scared, we get mean.
It seems to me we are mistaking bad policies for a bad idea. Immigration isn’t a good idea. It’s a great idea – one of the best we’ve ever come up with.
Senegal forward Ibrahim Mbaye, right, is another French-born player with a different international allegiance.Troy Wayrynen/Reuters
As a child of immigrants, I’m bemused by how many others like me – smart, gracious people – are now pushing against the door behind them. This is a big place. If we’re going to make it in an increasingly hostile world, we need bigger ideas, not smaller ones.
I don’t care if Canada is any good at football. If the government stuck its hand out and asked for a few bucks so that the men’s program could go from the last 16 to the quarter-finals, I’d slap it away.
But I am very down for paying for a French football model applied to more important things. Why don’t we have national academies of engineering, or medicine, or art? Why aren’t the corporations (i.e. teams) that would benefit from that work force helping fund them? Why aren’t we sending our experts around the world to develop that same capacity in other places, and doing it for nothing other than the promise of free trade?
In order to fill those academies, we need people who aren’t just over here hoping to scrape by, but looking to join an ambitious multidecade project. Pipelines are great and all, but why isn’t that on the radar? World Cup teams for all the important, meaningful jobs we need far more than pro athletes.
Sports have always been able to teach us life lessons about teamwork and effort. But modern sport can teach us more – how to build grand national projects that create enormous cultural, financial and reputational benefits. Why are those lessons not being learned in the same way “team first” is drummed into us?
The World Cup will end soon. France will probably win it. The people who are paying attention to how they do so may continue to win long afterward.