Suzanne Harrington: Boycotting is a powerful tool when wielded in unison — just ask Melania

Maybe we could be more like those Dunnes Stores workers in the 80s who wouldn’t handle the apartheid oranges, writes Suzanne Harrington

Jeff Bezos paid $75m for Melania's ‘documentary’ — a film made by a friend of Netanyahu, Epstein, and Weinstein. Picture: Donald J Trump/Facebook 

Could you ever have imagined yourself nodding sagely in agreement with Sepp Blatter? 

It’s only day two of month two, and already 2026 is throwing next-level derangement at us. Like agreeing with the former president of Fifa — who faced down corruption charges only last year — as he urges us to boycott attending the World Cup.

He is the most prominent — if dubious — voice in football to call for a boycott, given the 1939 situation going on in the
tournament’s host country. He’s also a peripheral indicator of how far the dial has shifted. And when I say shifted, I mean fallen off. There is no dial.

As Blatter’s toadying successor Gianni Infantino recently presented the Orange Fascist with an entirely made-up ‘peace prize’ — like something you’d give a disturbed child in Junior Infants for not biting anyone — along with “a beautiful medal that you can wear everywhere you want to go” (Venezuela? Greenland? Mar-a-Gaza?), Sepp Blatter has suddenly been reframed as something deeply unexpected. 

A dial. A moral compass. Didn’t see that coming, did we?

Suzanne Harrington: 'We may be non-billionaire nobodies, but we can still send a message.'

For most of us, boycotting the World Cup will be a moot point. Fifa is doing an Oasis with dynamic ticket pricing for the first time, which means that if you want to see Uzbekistan v Suriname — never mind any big name teams — you’ll have to remortgage your kidneys, before you ever pay for dynamically priced flights and hotels. 

People who can afford this level of expenditure are generally more into polo than football, so the great majority of us will be watching it on the telly.

But supposing you can afford it. Maybe you’re a mid-range drug-dealer, or your maiden aunt just died and left you her bank
account... would you still go? Would you allow the current US regime to grossly invade your privacy by accessing your phone?

Even if you don’t have a phone — and maybe such phoneless individuals still exist — would you go to a place that executes its citizens in the street for peaceful protest, while lecturing the world on democracy and human rights?

What if you got free tickets? Would you go? Tricky, isn’t it?

Boycotting is a powerful tool when wielded in unison by those with no power. Just ask Mrs Orange Fascist. Jeff Bezos paid $75m for her ‘ documentary’ — a film made by a friend of Netanyahu, Epstein, and Weinstein.

In Britain the film is being screened in 100 cinemas — in London, a total of seven tickets were pre-booked for its opening day, with five tickets selling in Brighton.

I don’t have ticket sales info for Ireland, but queues around the block seem unlikely. We may not be able to do much about the descent into fascism of a former significant ally, but we don’t need to give them our money, or our phones. Not directly anyway.

In Britain the film is being screened in 100 cinemas — in London, a total of seven tickets were pre-booked for its opening day, with five tickets selling in Brighton.

Obviously, US mega-brands dominate internationally. Even if you never ate a Big Mac, drank a Coke, or had a Starbucks in your life — and again, such people do exist — our online lives remain entwined with Google, Netflix, Apple, and Amazon.

Personally boycotting these brands requires steely ongoing commitment. But personally boycotting the US itself does not — it just means choosing somewhere else to go on your holiday.

We may be non-billionaire nobodies, but we can still send a message. Maybe not as spectacularly as George Clooney renouncing his US citizenship for a French passport on the Côte d’Azur — more like those Dunnes Stores workers in the 80s who wouldn’t handle the apartheid oranges.

We can be them.