Across Mexico, World Cup 2026 projects are putting communities and ecosystems under pressure

A four-ton replica of the 2026 FIFA World Cup ball, known as Trionda, now greets passengers at Mexico City International Airport.  The installation is part of a broader wave of infrastructure updates ahead of the global football tournament. Here, as in Monterrey and Guadalajara, airports in the Mexican host cities are investing billions of pesos to upgrade their facilities, preparing to receive thousands of fans and to serve as central logistical hubs during the football’s showcase event.

FIFA’s vision of growth appears limitless. By constantly thinking bigger, the organization is pushing this year’s men’s football World Cup to an unprecedented scale: from 32 to 48 teams and from 64 to 104 matches hosted across 16 cities of three countries. The 2030 World Cup, making the tournament’s 100th anniversary, is set to go even further, spanning no fewer than three continents. FIFA frames this expansion as a way to bring more football to more people. Yet it also raises fundamental questions about environmental sustainability.

More teams, more matches, more countries – or even continents – inevitably lead to higher air transport emissions; it is as simple as that. According to a recent study, the 2026 World Cup Finals are expected to release at least 9.02 million tons of CO2, representing a 92% increase compared to the average emissions of recent tournaments.

While sports studies are increasingly looking into the global climate impacts of mega sporting events such as the FIFA Men’s World Cup or the Olympic Games, far less is known about their local carbon footprint and socio-environmental effects within host cities themselves.

Examining these processes at the regional and local level, this article shows that, beyond the well-known emissions from air travel, sporting mega-events depend heavily on natural resources and shared communal goods. Drawing on fieldwork in Mexico City, Monterrey, and Guadalajara, the study examines how stadiums and related developments function as sites of extraction, and how local communities are responding.

Mexico City: stadium modernisation, water extraction, and local resistance

In Mexico City, the Azteca Stadium, built in 1966 and recently reopened after extensive renovation, will host the opening match on June 11, 2026. But the World Cup’s arrival has revived old conflicts over land, water, and urban development in Santa Úrsula Coapa, the Indigenous village adjacent to the stadium. Since 2021, when plans were announced for the real estate project Conjunto Estadio Azteca, residents have organized resistance to defend their land and water. Their mobilization centres on the risks of dispossession, water privatization, displacement, and gentrification.

Although the project is currently on hold, it could be reactivated at any moment, says Natalia Lara of the Neighbourhood Assembly against Megaprojects in Tlalpan and Coyoacán during a walk we did around the stadium. “The developer is Televisa. They have everything in place to move forward with the project: the land, the permits, and, most importantly, the water”, she notes. In 2019, Televisa – a Mexican telecommunications company that partly owns the Azteca Stadium (now Banorte Stadium) and the football club América – obtained rights to extract 450 million litres of water annually from a local well. This privatization and overexploitation of a public good has become one of the central focal points for the community resistance to the upcoming World Cup.

“This well is essential for operating the stadium,” says Lara. “For us, however, it drastically worsens water scarcity and violate our human right to water. We want the government to revoke this private concession.”

Televisa gained international notoriety through its alleged involvement in the corruption scandal known as FIFA gate. In 2017, The New York Times published an investigation linking a Televisa subsidiary – the Swiss-based company Mountrigi – to the payment of bribes to high-ranking FIFA officials in exchange for broadcasting rights to the 2018, 2022, 2026 and 2030 World Cups.

It was not until October 2024 that Televisa announced the step-down of Emilio Azcárraga Jean as chairman of the board, while investigations by United States authorities into these events were still ongoing. This episode followed a settlement in August 2023, when Televisa agreed to pay USD 95 million to shareholders in the United States to resolve a lawsuit accusing the Mexican broadcaster of concealing its connection to the FIFA Gate scandal and, as a result, artificially inflating the value of its shares. Televisa – whose historical business consolidation is closely linked to Mexican professional football – now has a new CEO. Meanwhile, Azcárraga Jean chairs Grupo Ollamani, a conglomerate created in 2024 to operate Televisa's businesses, manage Azteca Stadium and scale up their club’s business beyond football.

For Lara and other members of the neighbourhood assembly, however, these international dimensions of this corruption scandal are less immediate than the local and material effects of dispossession associated with the World Cup. For them, the central issue lies in “how the environmental and social impacts of these sporting mega-event” are addressed. The group articulates their claims on a wall of a bridge next to the stadium. “This ‘Bridge of Resistance’ is an important communal space for us. We meet here regularly and collectively paint murals against World Cup-related dispossession of land and water. Even though city workers regularly erase them, we go back and paint them again.”

A legacy of flooding, drought, and displacement

Flooding is a recurring problem during the rainy season, which begins in June – the inaugural month of the World Cup. Santa Úrsula Coapa and other neighbouring areas of Coyoacán are particularly affected. In 2025, Mexico City experienced some of the heaviest flooding in decades, and similar conditions are expected this year. Extreme weather events are becoming increasingly common in the city.

During the dry season, water scarcity and severe droughts prevail; during the rainy season, excess water overwhelms infrastructure and entire areas are flooded. As Rubén Ramírez, an authority of the Indigenous village of Santa Úrsula Coapa, explains during a public event in the neighbourhood: “The Azteca Stadium has already hosted two World Cups, in 1970 and 1986. This will be the third. They talk a lot about legacy, but nothing positive has lasted for the community. Our streets are still flooded during the rainy season, the sewage system is in poor condition, and some neighbours still have no water supply.”

According to residents, the city government under Mayor Clara Brugada presents lasting legacies, of what they conceive as cosmetic upgrades rather than real improvements to urban infrastructure. “Most projects linked to the World Cup in Mexico City are aimed at tourists and at making our neighbourhoods attractive for real estate investors”, Lara says. In response to growing touristification, residents and the neighbourhood assembly emphasize the need to analyse the impacts of the massive influx of visitors on Indigenous villages and popular neighbourhoods, fearing increased dispossession and evictions. “We’re not against football,” Lara says. “What we’re asking for is accountable management of public spaces and common goods – one that does not serve solely to generate profits for private capital.”

Monterrey: contested stadium construction, environmental movements, and failed infrastructure

In Monterrey, the BBVA Stadium illustrates another version of the same pattern: a mega-event layered onto a city already marked by environmental conflict, unequal access to resources, and public decisions that favour private development.

When the stadium was inaugurated in 2015, it was preceded by widespread citizen opposition to its construction in La Pastora Park, located along the La Silla River. Residents and environmental groups denounced irregularities in the process through which construction permits were obtained. Organized as the Citizens’ Collective in Defence of La Pastora, the opposition was initially successful to raising international public awareness around the need to protect public space from privatization and to conserve urban natural areas. Their slogan, “Yes to the stadium, but in another place!”, encapsulated a proposal to relocate the project to a former railway cargo station. Despite this mobilization, the authorities ultimately granted permission to construct the stadium in La Pastora, on forested public land that also functions as a strategic groundwater reservoir.

Prior to the stadium's construction, the government of Nuevo León announced the creation of a state-protected natural area along the La Silla River and around the stadium site. However, this designation lacked clear ecological conservation objectives. Instead, one of its explicit aims was to allow the construction of sports and recreational infrastructure. For biologist and environmentalist Antonio “Toño” Hernández “this was yet another modification of a protected area designed to serve specific interests. The stadium's boundaries were already defined, and the area allocated for the stadium was excluded from the protected perimeter. Everything was administratively arranged to facilitate its construction.” He adds that the La Silla River case – alongside others such as Cerro de la Mota and the Sierra del Cerro de la Silla – exemplify a broader public policy of reshaping protected natural areas to advance privatization interests.

Hernández speaks with a certain ambivalence. He really likes football but for many years he refused to enter the stadium. Only recently did he attend a match to support his favourite woman’s football team, motivated in part by curiosity to see the interior. “The truth is, it's a very beautiful stadium.” But his aesthetic appreciation does not erase his political concerns. Grupo FEMSA, the stadium’s owner, holds a 60-year concession for the land, with the possibility of renewal. In practical terms, he argues, a strategic public space has been handed over for private use in a region where water may become even more contested in the future.

Water crisis and unequal priorities

Water is central to understand Monterrey. The metropolitan area was going through a severe water crisis in 2022, when millions of residents were left without water for weeks. For many, the crisis was a traumatic experience and a symptom of a broader structural problem: while large parts of the population faced severe shortages, major private companies such as Heineken and Coca Cola (both holding significant business relationships with Grupo FEMSA) continued to consume water at high levels. For residents, the crisis made visible a hierarchy of priorities that places corporate needs ahead of everyday life.

By the time the tournament reaches its knockout stages in July, Monterrey will be in the middle of the canícula, the hottest period of the year, when temperatures often exceed 45°C. No matches will be played in Mexico by that point, but fans and tourists are expected to gather in the city’s FIFA Fan Festival in Fundidora Park. Once an iron and steel foundry, Fundidora Park is now a vast urban park that remains public but is managed by a trust largely operating in the interests of private investors.

At the same time, Monterrey faces an ongoing air pollution crisis. In 2025, exceptionally high levels of air pollution triggered public debate over whether the city should even host the event. Air quality remains a recurrent socio-environmental issue in this highly industrialized and car-dependent metropolitan area, where conditions have once again reached alarming levels.

One of the primary demands of Monterrey’s residents is the improvement and expansion of the currently overpriced public transport system. Preparing for the sports mega event, the government is investing in new metro lines intended to connect the airport, the city centre, Fundidora Park, and San Pedro Garza García. Whether this megaproject will be completed in time for the World Cup remains uncertain.

Transport promises and the battle over the river

More broadly, public investment prioritized road infrastructure, as illustrated by the now-cancelled elevated toll road project, the Viaducto Elevado Morones Prieto. Following the construction of the stadium in the forested area, one of the central megaprojects associated with the World Cup was to build this road infrastructure within the riverbed of Santa Catarina River.

The project was halted in June 2025 after an extensive information campaign led by the collective #UnRíoEnElRío, which gathered signatures demanding citizen participation in the public consultation process. Their central demand was simple: keep the river a river, rather than transform it into urban infrastructure. Governor Samuel García not only cancelled the project but also announced his intention to declare the river a protected natural area in the near future. Nonetheless, the collective is currently again documenting illegal deforestation and damage to the riverbed beyond authorized zones during the construction of the new metro line. The Santa Catarina River plays a crucial role in absorbing sudden floods, such as those caused by Hurricane Alex in 2010 – a reminder that June and July also coincide with hurricane season.

Consuelo Cruz, an elderly resident of Guadalupe – the municipality where the BBVA Stadium is located – and member of the Colectivo Huizache, explains that her current engagement is rooted in her involvement in the defence of La Pastora 15 years ago, an experience that pushed her to refuse silence and speak out against what she describes as ecocide. “Back then, I learned that economic interests and the money of a few are prioritized over the well-being of Guadalupe’s residents,” Cruz states, adding that authorities show little concern for environmental damage. In response, she remains committed to collective action against World Cup-related projects, which, she argues, continue to harm the environment and do not benefit local residents. “As much as possible, I will organize with my fellow collective members to stop the damage,” she explains.

Guadalajara: sustainable stadium branding and the pressures on La Primavera forest

In Guadalajara, the Akron Stadium, located in Zapopan, around 18 kilometres from the city centre, is being renovated at a cost of more than USD 12.4 million to comply with FIFA requirements. These works are taking place amid growing public debate over the stadium’s socio-environmental impacts, including its potential effects on the Bajío aquifer and documented impact on La Primavera Biosphere Reserve. This vast UNESCO protected forest, often described as the lung of the Guadalajara Metropolitan Area, faces threats to wildlife, alongside advancing urbanization and an increased risk of wildfires.

When the FIFA World Cup 2026 countdown clock was unveiled in Zapopan, Governor Pablo Lemus framed the stadium as a visionary project from its earlies planning stages – designed and built to bring FIFA’s flagship tournament to Mexico. In his speech, he praised the late businessman Jorge Vergara for his long-standing vision in building a stadium that could one day host a World Cup. He portrayed the venue as proof of strategic foresight and local ambition.

Upon arriving at the stadium, it appears as a white island surrounded by lush green, largely undeveloped land, with the biosphere reserve stretching behind it. The stadium was built just beyond Periférico ring road 15 years ago. Today, urbanization is rapidly advancing, pushing into natural conversation zones. Among the most prominent nearby structures is the Intel Guadalajara Design Centre. This campus of one of the world’s largest chipmakers – which began as a Mexican start-up in 2000 – has become one of the Intel’s most important technology hubs, where research, design and testing of its chips take place. As such, it materializes broader plans to develop a “Little Silicon Valley” adjacent to the stadium.

The construction of the Akron Stadium exemplifies how private investors can shape urban planning, as large-scale development plans have progressively unfolded around the venue. From the outset, the stadium formed part of the JVC Cultural and Business Center mega-project, named after Jorge Vergara Cabrera, the father of businessman Jorge Vergara. In 2001, Vergara – beyond the retrospective narrative of his vision to bring the World Cup to Guadalajara – presented an ambitious plan with an initial investment of USD 800 million. The JVC Center was conceived as a mega development using approximately 241 hectares and involving internationally renowned architects to design the complex. By 2003, however, construction had stalled due to various legal problems, facing also strong opposition from environmental groups seeking to prevent ecological damage. Twenty-five years after its launch, the JVC Center has largely faded from public memory. In 2010, authorities announced that the project would be significantly scaled back, reduced to a complex of commercial areas, hotels, and the football stadium. Today, it appears on lists of Mexico's failed mega-projects.

The upcoming World Cup, however, poses renewed risks – not only to wildlife like Pumas, experts warn, but also by drastically increasing the risk of wildfires. Wildfires are among the most serious threads to La Primavera, contributing to air pollution and exacerbating the climate crisis in the Guadalajara metropolitan area. Forest fires are frequent, largely due to inadequate prevention measures, and are the main driver of forest degradation. As Pedro Alcocer and Sandra Valdés from the civil association Anillo Primavera emphasize, “the forest edge is the most neglected part of the problem. This area constitutes a crucial water absorption zone, with extensive natural waterways that supply 35% of the water consumed in the Guadalajara Metropolitan Area. This territory is becoming a ‘no man’s land,’ controlled by real estate speculation.”

How, then, will the World Cup affect this fragile ecosystem? In the short term, the impacts may not be immediately visible. Yet, as seen in comparable cases, the most significant challenge lies in the medium-term socio-environmental consequences. The mega-sporting event may act as a powerful catalyst for further urbanization within the protected area of La Primavera, particularly in the vicinity of the stadium. Of particular concern are the potential impacts on the El Bajío aquifer resulting from future residential developments, golf courses, and high-tech industrial parks, constructions that are facilitated by improved connectivity in what was previously a peripheral area.

This critical perspective stands in stark contrast to the official narrative promoted by the stadium’s owners and government representatives. They present the venue as one of the most sustainable and environmentally friendly stadiums of the World Cup. The stadium’s design incorporates, for instance, rainwater harvesting systems; at its entrance, a container garden produces salad greens; and reforestation activities in La Primavera are promoted. Yet these sustainability claims appear contradictory when considering alongside the wider context and the fact that Akron, one of Mexico’s largest oil lubricants companies is the stadium’s main naming sponsor. Moreover, the venue is equipped with artificial intelligence (AI) systems and a gaming centre that invites fans and the general younger public to play on large screens consoles. As one of the few stadiums in Mexico investing heavily in football- and fan-related business beyond the match days, it notably remains silent on the immense energy demands required to power and cool AI-driven infrastructures and data centres.

The World Cup’s local footprint cannot remain sidelined

Taken together, these stories from Mexico City, Monterrey, and Guadalajara – unfolding just months before the world’s biggest football tournament begins – show how mega sporting events reshape cities and their natural environments. 

They reveal how the 2026 World Cup is accelerating existing socio-environmental crisis, from wildfires and air pollution to flooding and drought. At the same time, it is generating new pressures: displacement in popular neighbourhoods, gentrification and the destruction of forests and rivers directly or indirectly linked to the tournament.

Although Mexico will host only 13 of the 104 games, this does not mean a smaller local impact. On the contrary, Mexican host cities are expected to absorb millions of visitors, many drawn by lower costs and easier access than in the U.S. and Canada. Public spaces will be transformed into FIFA Fan Festivals, while short-term rentals – such as Airbnb, an official FIFA World Cup partner – and tourism infrastructure expand rapidly around stadiums and city centres.

Yet these stories are not only about contamination and dispossession. They also point to the growing presence of neighbourhood groups, environmental collectives, and local organizations that are resisting the mega-event extractive model. Across Mexico’s host cities, people are defending their neighbourhoods, their environment, and their love of football.