Two years ago, most of South America’s women’s national teams disappeared from the Fifa rankings because their federations cared only about their men’s team. It got so bad that some federations stopped scheduling matches and staffing women’s sides.

This could have been the death knell for women’s football in several countries but instead it was the starting point of something magnificent. Since then, players have organised themselves, protested and played their way back on to the pitch. Their collective actions should be seen in the context of global women’s football campaigns, such as the Danish women’s fight for equal pay and the turf wars of the 2015 World Cup.

For these players, the Copa América Femenina’s importance can hardly be overstated. Next month they will square off in Chile to qualify for the World Cup and Pan-American Games 2019, as well as the 2020 Olympics. Players are looking at the Copa as a chance to convince the crowds, their federations, their families and maybe even themselves that they are rescuing women’s football in South America from oblivion.

So how have the women from three of the most passionate football cultures protested against being treated so shamefully? The short answer is collectively. Collective action is politics of necessity for the players who fear retaliation from their coaches and federations. Because the teams are so far under the radar those decisions happen without public outcry. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the national teams most vocally protesting against the conditions – Argentina, Brazil and Chile– are those with the highest ranking men’s teams.

The Brazilian federation has unapologetically mistreated players and shut women out of leadership positions for decades. Even during the World Cup in Canada the president of women’s football complimented the squad on their feminine appearance rather than their play. When Emily Lima was appointed as the first female head coach in 2017 the Brazilian players celebrated, only for her to be abruptly dismissed months later. In a poignant protest, five players, including the prolific striker Cristiane, retired.

I feel there has been a complete empowerment of Latin American women Fernanda Pinilla

Former players, current players, and experts followed up with a powerful letter. The federation president, Marco Polo Del Nero, has been described as a “playboy” and is reluctant to leave the country for fear of being arrested for corruption, organised a committee to address concerns. It worked for months but was unexpectedly disbanded in February. One more protest co-opted, dismissed and such hard work wasted.

Chilean players, meanwhile, made a surprise move when they formed a players’ union in 2016, which eventually integrated into the men’s union and gained enough momentum to reorganise their team after years of neglect. It was the union that convinced the Chilean federation to host the Copa América, another step toward the revitalisation of women’s football on the continent.

The forward Fernanda Pinilla, a driving force on and off the field, says the current feminist movements “have inspired totally different visions to those that we have been accustomed to. I feel that there has been a complete empowerment of Latin American women.”

These movements are intersectional, including the Argentinian campaign against gender violence #NiUnaMenos. Calling general strikes, such as the ones that took place on International Women’s Day, point toward the growing recognition that the devaluation of women’s labour and disrespect for their integrity must be addressed simultaneously.

The Argentinian team went on strike last September after their stipends, less than $10, went unpaid. Even when paid, they trained without proper changing rooms on a dirt field. I attended the team’s first training session last week and spoke with the coach, Carlos Borrello, who has three weeks to assemble a competitive squad for the Copa. It is a hard road when the federation allots three training sessions per week. Borrello has to miss training because he is also in charge of the three other women’s youth teams.

The sacrifice demanded of these players is remarkable. Goalkeeper Gaby Gartón explained to me that any article of sport clothing is 50% more expensive than in the US or Europe and the salaries of the players a fraction. Despite that, she says “being able to wear the Argentinian national team jersey is more than enough to keep women playing in those conditions”.

The difficulty fielding national teams is compounded by the anaemic landscape of women’s clubs. Many of the women cannot afford the trips to training, given that the stipend does not cover equipment or the loss of wages. I spoke with a top player from Boca Juniors whose monthly salary is $150. When I asked how she managed, she said, frowning: “I have to get a gym membership to stay competitive, eat a decent breakfast, pay for boots and if my whole family didn’t contribute to helping me live my dream, I would have had to quit years ago.”

Unpaid and mistreated, the female footballers of South America have rejected neo-liberal arguments that they only matter if they can market themselves. Despite promised development money from Fifa, Conmebol, the governing body in South America, has yet to account for how federations use those funds. Fifa, for its part, does not have an accounting system for Conmebol, which is far from ideal. The recent Fifa rankings tell a story of extreme inequity. In all of Conmebol, not one women’s team ranks equal to their male counterparts.

When I asked players about the tournament, their eyes lit up. Most hope for second and third place, behind Brazil. Respect for Brazil is the only constant in men and women’s football. Brazil have won six of the seven Copa América tournaments, with Argentina stealing one in 2006.

Regardless of the winners, this Copa América will be a testament to how solidarity among female players has challenged the structural and cultural sexism of some of the world’s largest sporting organisations.