World Cup visitors found the great America we forgot existed
Something has happened over the last week that I never expected, and I say that regretfully.
I say it regretfully because I, like so many other Americans, had all but forgotten how truly remarkable this country is. And not just the country itself, with the architecture of our cities and the breathtaking landscapes of our national parks.
I’m talking about the people. We the people.
I had truly forgotten how distinctly amazing the citizens of the United States are. And of all things, what did it take to remind me of this? A bunch of Europeans traveling here for the World Cup, to, oddly enough, enjoy a sport that Americans aren’t necessarily all that fond of.
That’s right. The biggest soccer, or football (I’m rolling my eyes as I write that, as the true American I am), tournament in the world is being hosted right here at home. And not just in major cities, but in the heartland, “flyover country”, as well — towns like Auburn, Alabama.
People from all over the world are coming to the United States, straight into the heart of Middle America, and they’re being blown away in the best possible way.
From Scottish visitors in Boston, to Germans in Houston, to Australians in Seattle, to Argentinians and Icelanders spending time in the heart of SEC country at Auburn University, they’re getting a firsthand look at America beyond the headlines. They’re seeing bald eagles soaring over stadiums, military flyovers, red, white, and blue fireworks, and some of the most powerful renditions of the national anthem they’ve ever heard.
Most importantly, they’re meeting ordinary Americans.
They’re discovering that America is not defined by its politics, its media, or its ruling class. It’s defined by its people.
Take Freddy, for example, the now-famous German tourist traveling across America during the World Cup. He started in Florida and made his way all the way to Houston, Texas, passing through Louisiana, Alabama, and much of the American heartland along the way. He experienced Waffle House at one in the morning, Taco Bell, and even found himself at an Ella Langley concert, where she personally invited him and his friends backstage after the show.
His reports have been overwhelmingly positive. Everywhere he goes, he encounters friendly, welcoming Americans eager to share their communities, culture, and way of life.
And his story isn’t unique.
British tourists have shared stories of deli owners refusing to let them pay for meals because they had traveled so far. Hotel managers have offered free rides to stadiums when transportation fell through. Families in Texas have invited foreign visitors into their homes, cooked meals for them, taken them out on their boats, and even introduced them to local shooting ranges.
This is American hospitality.
This is the American way.
And these are the people the world is so often told do not exist.
The obvious question is: why?
Why is America, its people, and its way of life so frequently misrepresented?
Many of these tourists arrive expecting one thing and leave having experienced something entirely different. They’re shocked because the America they’ve encountered bears little resemblance to the America they’ve been told about.
I believe the reason goes deeper than politics.
At the center of American life has always been a particular set of values: hospitality, personal responsibility, generosity, patriotism, individual liberty, and the belief that every human being possesses inherent dignity. These values were heavily shaped by our Christian heritage and became woven into the fabric of the nation itself.
There are powerful movements, both foreign and domestic, that oppose those values.
And if you want to weaken America, you cannot simply attack its government. Governments are downstream from culture. You must attack the beliefs, institutions, and moral framework that hold society together.
This isn’t a new idea.
Russian philosopher Alexander Dugin, often referred to as “Putin’s brain,” argued decades ago that the West could not be defeated merely through military means. Instead, it had to be demoralized from within. Its cultural confidence had to be eroded. Its foundational beliefs had to be questioned, weakened, and eventually abandoned.
Whether the challenge comes from authoritarian regimes, revolutionary ideologies, or religious extremism, the strategy is often similar: convince Americans that the very principles that made their country successful are actually sources of shame.
The target is not merely America as a government.
The target is America as a proposition.
Unlike most nations throughout history, America was not founded on bloodline, ethnicity, tribe, or class. It was founded on a set of ideals. The belief that human beings are endowed with rights. The belief that liberty is worth preserving. The belief that ordinary people are capable of governing themselves.
That proposition is what critics so often seek to undermine.
Yet these visitors keep discovering something remarkable.
They arrive expecting hostility and find generosity. They arrive expecting division and find community. They arrive expecting decline and find prosperity, energy, optimism, and patriotism.
In many ways, they are seeing America more clearly than many Americans do.
That’s because familiarity often blinds us to what we have.
We spend so much time focusing on our problems that we forget how extraordinary many aspects of this country still are.
That doesn’t mean America is perfect. We have serious issues that need to be addressed. Every nation does.
But it does mean that we should stop taking for granted the things that continue to make this country exceptional: the kindness of its people, the strength of its communities, the freedoms we enjoy, and the values that have sustained generations of Americans.
The lesson from all these World Cup visitors is simple: America is still a beautiful country.
Its people are still good people.
And sometimes it takes fresh eyes from the other side of the world to remind us of that.
Mikale Olson is a contributor at The Federalist and a writer at Not the Bee, specializing in commentary on Christian theology and conservative politics. As a podcaster, YouTuber, and seasoned commentator, Mikale engages audiences with insightful analysis on faith, culture, and the public square.
