The 2025 edition of the Club World Cup, launched in the United States with a new and ambitious format of 32 teams, represents much more than a sporting competition: it also serves as a mirror reflecting deep differences between Europe and Latin America—not only in football terms, but also culturally, socially, and in leadership styles.

What happens on the pitch has roots in structures that go far beyond sport.

While FIFA promotes this cup as an opportunity for global inclusion, the reality is that elite football remains dominated by a concentration of economic, media, and symbolic power in Europe. The question echoing through locker rooms and newsrooms is clear: can South America truly compete?

A Glorious Past

For decades, South American clubs were undisputed protagonists on the global stage. The Intercontinental Cup, played between European and South American champions from 1960 to 2004, saw unforgettable triumphs from teams like Peñarol, Independiente, Boca Juniors, and São Paulo. They didn’t just compete—they won.

That tournament fueled the footballing identity of the continent and allowed fans to dream of a rivalry with Europe on equal footing, despite the economic gap. Talent, passionate fan bases, and highly skilled South American coaches helped keep the balance.

But with the launch of the Club World Cup by FIFA in 2000 and its eventual consolidation as a multi-confederation event, that parity began to fade.

Europe, with its professionalized leagues, corporate-style clubs, and ability to sign the world's best players, has steadily extended its dominance. Since Corinthians' title in 2012, no South American team has lifted the trophy.

A Factory of Champions

Real Madrid, with a squad valued at $1.5 billion according to Transfermarkt, tops the list of the world’s most powerful clubs. But it’s far from alone: Manchester City, Bayern Munich, PSG, Barcelona, Chelsea, and Liverpool are all part of an ecosystem fueled by global TV rights, multimillion-dollar sponsorships, and elite-level infrastructure.

This economic supremacy goes beyond signing the best players in Europe. As PSG coach Luis Enrique—also a recent Champions League winner—put it, European clubs now have “the best of Europe, but also the best of Africa, the Americas, and Asia.” This concentration of global talent—driven by sports migration and a market open to only a few—makes Europe an irresistible magnet for footballers everywhere.

The Spanish coach was blunt: “If South American players were still in Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay, then American teams—South and Central—would have more chances.” His statement is both honest and telling: Europe doesn’t just play with its own talent—it plays with everyone’s.

And South America?

While Europe operates under the logic of major entertainment corporations, South American clubs continue to rely on mystique, local talent development, and the epic nature of their histories.

Palmeiras, the continent’s most valuable club, has a squad valued under $290 million. Flamengo and River Plate are around $250 million; Boca Juniors barely exceeds $100 million.

This financial gap affects everything: from infrastructure to the ability to retain star players. Instead of buying stars, South American clubs develop them—and then sell them.

But that doesn’t mean resignation. The passion with which football is lived in Latin America, the intensity of its rivalries, the creativity that emerges even in adversity, remain assets of enormous symbolic value.

As Marcelo Gallardo, legendary River Plate coach, put it: “Being part of a tournament of this magnitude at its inception […] means something very special to all of us.”

Former Argentine footballer Juan Pablo Sorín echoed this sentiment: “The Club World Cup is a great opportunity for South American teams, but also for clubs from continents that would otherwise never get the chance to play against the champions of the world’s most powerful regions—not only economically, but also in footballing terms.”

The pride in competing remains strong. But the room to maneuver is shrinking fast.

Window or Showcase?

For FIFA, this new tournament signals the start of a “new era.” That’s how Gianni Infantino described it in an interview with AFP: “It’s a bit like when, in 1930, the first World Cup began,” he said from Miami.

Infantino insists that the tournament aims to “globalize football” and give clubs from historically excluded regions a chance to shine. With 32 teams and a broader group stage, global media exposure is guaranteed.

And the choice of host country is no accident. The United States—co-host of the 2026 Men’s World Cup—represents a growing, multicultural market with a large Latin American population. It’s also fertile ground for business: broadcasting rights were acquired by the streaming platform DAZN for $1 billion, and major commercial revenues are expected.

But this setting also raises red flags. Will the Club World Cup be a platform for South America to compete—or just a catwalk to showcase and sell talent? A window to attract sponsors—or more evidence that the real power no longer resides in the Global South?

A Wider Imbalance

The differences can’t be explained by money alone. Behind the football gap lie deeper structural factors.

Europe has strong federations, long-term institutional projects, standardized technical education, stable tax systems, and governance frameworks that have sustained the professionalization of the sport. UEFA operates as a true supranational league. By contrast, CONMEBOL in South America has historically been weaker, more fragmented, and plagued by allegations of corruption.

The social context matters too. While in Europe football has become part of the creative and entertainment industries, adding significant value, in Latin America it often remains an escape route from poverty. This shapes not only the business models, but also the expectations of players, clubs, and fans.

Another factor is the loss of symbolic centrality. In the past, the football world looked to the South to understand the soul of the game. Today, the dominant narrative comes from the North: that’s where the cameras are, the contracts, the influencers, the algorithms. Latin America produces footballers; Europe produces the show.

A Milestone, But...

The new Club World Cup is undoubtedly a milestone. But it’s also a stage for contrast. On the pitch, styles, traditions, and capabilities collide. Off the pitch, the playing field is even more uneven—this is a clash of development models, leadership cultures, economic history, and competing visions for the sport.

South America still has football. But to truly compete, it needs more than talent: it needs vision, collective leadership, stronger institutions, and a strategy that goes beyond resistance—it must build. Because in the end, the Club World Cup doesn’t just measure goals; it reflects the different worlds that each team represents.