With the 2026 World Cup weeks away, India still has no domestic broadcast deal. Negotiations are said to be ongoing, but time zones, price expectations and a deeper mismatch between FIFA’s approach and the realities of the two biggest Asian markets have slowed progress.
“The Indian market is a sort of a brute force market,” says Nandan Kamath, a leading sports lawyer involved in India’s sports policy. “It’s the numbers rather than the willingness.” Broadcasters in India rely far more on advertising than on subscription fees. Even when viewing figures were strong at Qatar 2022, Viacom18—then the rights holder—did not turn a profit. Premium subscriber counts for paid services are relatively small, so selling the World Cup at high per-subscriber prices is unlikely to generate the scale FIFA wants unless expectations are adjusted.
Kamath points to how other global sports and platforms adapted to local markets. Netflix and Formula 1, for instance, have lowered price points or rethought packages to reach large audiences: a basic Netflix plan in India can be as low as 199 rupees a month (about $2.50), and an F1 season pass is available around 899 rupees ($10). Rights holders needing scale have had to rationalize pricing and distribution.
A second commercial issue is competition. Rights normally sell into a crowded market of bidders driven by FOMO—fear of missing out—but in India the field is narrowly divided between JioStar (which absorbed Viacom18 after the Reliance–Disney merger in 2024) and Sony. That lack of competitive pressure weakens the market dynamic that pushes prices up.
Perhaps most structural is sport preference: India grew up on cricket. Kamath notes that the Indian Premier League and ICC events sit at the top of broadcasters’ priorities; for football to displace them would require a major shift. Cricket’s format—with frequent breaks—makes it ideal for advertising-based revenue models in a way football is not. Many World Cup kickoffs will occur when large parts of India are asleep, reducing live-audience potential; Qatar 2022 was easier because it was only two-and-a-half hours away. India’s men’s team has never qualified for a World Cup and fell at the second round of qualifying for 2026, further limiting grassroots engagement. Combined with an ambition to host the Olympics, football remains more of an entertainment product than a mass participatory sport in India.
Kamath believes a deal is still likely but warns FIFA will need new thinking to thrive in India: “It could be virtual advertising, or better integration of Indian sponsors. You might need to find new models… I don’t see the willingness to subscribe and pay a huge amount more changing in four years or eight.”
China’s picture has been different. After weeks of uncertainty, Chinese outlets reported on May 15 that a broadcasting agreement was reached covering the next two World Cups (men’s and women’s). Xu Guoqi, a professor and expert on sport in China, says the country has long been fascinated by football; historically CCTV has carried World Cup matches even when the national side did not qualify.
Xu is blunt about FIFA’s negotiating stance: “I think FIFA got greedy. It’s a business deal, right? For FIFA, if Chinese men don’t watch the game that’s a big loss to them.” FIFA’s interest is understandable: the organization says CCTV accounted for nearly 20% of linear TV reach in Qatar. Even without Chinese qualification this time—China exited in the third round of qualifying—there remains commercial and popular appetite. Several Chinese firms are sponsoring the tournament, and watching the World Cup is widely enjoyed.
Xu also recalls how foreign sports can take on cultural significance in China. He highlights an episode from 1999 when political tensions led to a temporary broadcast ban of NBA games; despite official moves, the public’s appetite for the sport persisted. “The NBA belongs to the world,” he says, underscoring how joy of the game can overcome political or temporary barriers.
The contrasting situations in India and China show that global rights holders cannot assume a one-size-fits-all approach. In India, price sensitivity, ad-driven models and cricket’s dominance require tailored commercial strategies; in China, scale and national broadcasters’ reach make securing presence essential, but the terms must reflect the market. Both markets will matter for FIFA’s commercial future, but thriving in them will demand creativity—new packaging, localized sponsorships, and ad-tech solutions—rather than simply expecting broadcast fees to follow Western models.
Note: this piece was updated after reports that China secured broadcasting rights for the 2026 and 2030 World Cups.