From football to foreign policy: Trump's five self-goals | Gravitas

As Spain celebrated its historic FIFA World Cup triumph over Argentina, U.S. President Donald Trump appeared determined to grab a share of the spotlight. Instead of stepping aside after presenting the trophy, Trump lingered on the winners' podium, remaining front and centre as the Spanish players celebrated football's biggest prize.

The unusual moment quickly became one of the ceremony's biggest talking points, with critics accusing the U.S. president of turning a team's crowning glory into a personal photo opportunity.

The celebrations appeared awkward enough that FIFA President Gianni Infantino eventually guided Trump away, allowing the Spanish champions to have the stage to themselves.

For many observers, it was another unforced error—another self-goal in a presidency that has seen no shortage of headline-grabbing moments.

The man who recently criticised Spain's Prime Minister for not contributing enough to NATO spending, and called the country hopeless, suddenly found himself presenting the World Cup to Spain.

ALSO READ: How China controls a critical ingredient for Western ammunition | Gravitas

As if this wasn't embarrassing enough, many of the 80,000-plus spectators greeted him with boos.

One incident that emerged as headline news and a focal point of controversy during the 2026 FIFA World Cup was Trump's personal intervention following the match ban on U.S. striker Folarin Balogun.

Following Balogun's red card, Trump called FIFA President Gianni Infantino to request a review of the suspension.

FIFA subsequently invoked Article 27 to suspend the one-match ban for a one-year probationary period.

Trump's World Cup intervention sparked global backlash, challenged FIFA's integrity, and fuelled concerns over America's soft power.

Trump's self-goals aren't limited to the football field. They're playing out on the battlefield too.

The renewed confrontation with Iran over the Strait of Hormuz is a case in point.

A conflict Trump once suggested would be over in days has dragged on, with Iran refusing to back down and negotiating from a position of strength. His broader objective of forcing regime change remains out of reach.

The cost is mounting. The Pentagon says nearly 100 U.S. troops have been injured in just the last two weeks of renewed fighting.

Trump announced the U.S. would control the Strait of Hormuz and charge ships for safe passage, a move critics said mirrored tactics long associated with Iran.

But less than 24 hours later, he abruptly scrapped the proposed 20 percent reimbursement fee.

Another dramatic reversal. Another self-goal.

Then comes Trump's face-off with NATO over defence spending.

Trump demanded that every NATO ally dramatically raise defence spending to 5% of GDP.

At the 2025 Hague Summit, allies agreed to work towards that level by 2035, with 3.5% earmarked for core military spending and 1.5% for broader security investments.

But Spain openly refused to sign up to the target, securing an exemption and sticking to its own spending plans despite Trump's public pressure and threats of economic retaliation.

Instead of projecting unquestioned authority, the episode highlighted the limits of his leverage over allies.

In February this year, the U.S. Supreme Court shut down a big chunk of the extra tariffs Trump had ordered, forcing the government to return money to the companies that had paid them.

According to budget data, the U.S. has paid out $81 billion in tariff refunds so far this fiscal year, which started in October 2025, compared with $5 billion during the same period last year.

As wildfires sent smoke billowing across the U.S. border, Trump threatened tariffs on Canadian imports, accusing Ottawa of failing to control the fires.

In a social media post, Trump wrote that the U.S. had been "invaded" by dirty air.

“The cost of this pollution must of necessity be added to the tariffs Canada is currently paying.”

The move stunned many observers.

Canada isn't just America's largest trading partner; it's also one of its closest allies, sharing the world's longest undefended border and deep military ties through NORAD and NATO.

Critics argued that targeting an ally over a natural disaster risked straining a crucial partnership without addressing the underlying crisis.

Instead of putting pressure on an adversary, Washington found itself locked in a dispute with one of its closest friends, turning another tough-talking threat into a diplomatic self-goal.