There was a time, and not all that long ago, when arriving in America meant being greeted by a man with a comically large smile, a flag the size of a small principality, and the words βwelcome home, friend,β even if youβd never set foot in the place before.
Trillions went into building that brand.
And now look. The Senegal national football team, invited guests, arriving for the World Cup, being patted down on the tarmac by a chap in a bucket hat whose vest says Aviation Logistics and whose body language says βspread βem.β This is not a welcome. It is a stop-and-search before the players have so much as breathed American air.
βWe love all people,β the Americans used to say. For decades. With feeling. They printed it on t-shirts and stitched it into the lining of their foreign policy. Turns out the small print, only legible under a Trump administration, reads: βterms and conditions apply, please consult the attached list of acceptable nationalities, allow six to eight weeks for processing, void where it makes the President uncomfortable.β
The truly bleak thing about the photo isnβt the search. It is that nobody in it looks remotely surprised.
The U.S. World Cup in one horrible photo: