On the surface, this is about haggis. In reality, it feels like a familiar piece of Scottish football identity.
The report says the push is aimed at a restriction dating back to 1971, with traditional haggis effectively barred in the US because of rules around sheep lung. That makes the campaign bigger than a quirky culinary complaint. It taps into the idea that major tournaments are not only about line-ups and results, but about what travelling fans bring with them: songs, rituals, colours and, in this case, food.
Howie’s reported message is easy to understand. Scottish supporters are famed for turning up loudly and warmly, and a trip to 2026 would be sold as a once-in-a-generation journey.
This is why the campaign works. The Tartan Army has long traded on humour as much as patriotism, and “no haggis, no party” is exactly the kind of line that can travel.
Smart reportedly sees that side of it clearly. His case is not really about bureaucracy; it is about atmosphere. If Scottish fans do make it to the tournament, they will want to carry every part of home with them, not just flags and scarves. In that sense, haggis becomes a symbol of belonging rather than just a menu item.
Football’s biggest events are often sold through infrastructure, schedules and commercial noise. This story cuts through because it is personal, funny and unmistakably Scottish.
Whether the campaign actually shifts policy remains to be seen, and reports say there has been no public official response yet. But as the road to World Cup 2026 rolls on, this is the kind of subplot worth watching: not only whether Scotland get there, but what their fans might be allowed to bring with them if they do.