The soccer conquistadors: Why Spain’s World Cup has had an imperial flavor

Most people associate the phrase “the empire on which the sun never sets” with Victorian Britain, which at the dawn of the 20th century ruled over a vast array of territories including Canada, British Honduras, the Ionian Islands, Egypt, the Somaliland, India, Hong Kong and Fiji. But the phrase was actually coined centuries before by Italian diplomat Giovanni Battista Guarini, who in 1585 referred to the Spanish Empire as the realm on which “nè anco, quando annotta, il Sol tramonta” — “even when it grows dark, the sun never sets.” Indeed, under Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and his Spanish Habsburg heirs, people on every continent except Antarctica were ruled from Madrid. By marching huge armies across Europe and traversing far-off seas on caravels and galleons, Spain came to control territorial possessions extending from Peru to the Philippines. And during the 2026 World Cup, many of their descendants have watched their national teams face off against players representing their former imperial overlords. As a result of the random luck that characterizes FIFA group stage draws, this edition of the tournament has seen La Roja take the field against nations that, at some point or another, were part of the Spanish empire. The sole exceptions to this coincidence have been matches against France and Saudi Arabia. In its first match of the World Cup, Spain faced off against Cape Verde, the West African archipelago colonized by the Portuguese in the 15th century. After Spain invaded Portugal in 1580, all of Lisbon’s imperial possessions — among them, the 10 volcanic islands that make up modern-day Cape Verde — came under de facto Spanish rule until 1640, when the forced Iberian Union was dissolved and Portugal regained its independence. Back in the present day, after defeating Saudi Arabia — a country that came into existence after the Spanish Empire had collapsed and Madrid’s power had faded away — Spain won its match against Uruguay in Guadalajara, Mexico. That South American nation was once part of the vast Spanish Viceroyalties of Peru and later the Río de la Plata, created by Spain in 1535, and declared its independence from the motherland in 1810. The game was overshadowed by talk of colonialism, but that discussion involved Spain’s legacy in the host country of Mexico. Back in 2019, then-Mexican President Andrés Manuel López Obrador demanded Spanish King Felipe VI apologize for the abuses committed by his country during its 16th century conquest of Mesoamerica. Madrid declined to do so, fueling a high-level rift that continued under López Obrador’s successor, President Claudia Sheinbaum, who broke with tradition by refusing to invite Spain’s monarch to her inauguration in 2024. In an apparent gesture of rapprochement, while attending an exhibition on Mexican indigenous art in Madrid earlier this year, Spain’s monarch unexpectedly acknowledged the “abuses and ethical controversies” committed by Spanish conquistadors. “There are things that, when we study them, in our judgment, with our current values, obviously cannot make us proud,” Felipe added. The statement paved the way for a diplomatic thaw that was consolidated ahead of Spain’s match in Guadalajara. Prior to attending the game, Felipe made use of a layover in Mexico City to meet with Sheinbaum for a chat that was widely interpreted as putting an end to seven years of uneasy relations between the two countries. Complicated legacies After that win, La Roja triumphed over Austria — a dominion over which Charles V largely administered from Spain. Then the team took on Portugal, a country whose identity is rooted in its resistance to Madrid’s expansionist ambitions — concerns that aren’t exaggerated. Since 1580, Spain has carried out six full-scale invasions of its western neighbor, and as recently as 1974, ailing Spanish dictator Francisco Franco drew up plans to deploy troops to Lisbon to snuff out the left-leaning Carnation Revolution. Since the restoration of democracy in