05.06.2026
Reading time 6 min

Once a Joyous Celebration, Iran’s World Cup Spirit Turns to Discontent

In Iran the World Cup used to trigger joy on our streets. It feels very different now

Abbas Kiarostami, the renowned Iranian filmmaker, crafted a movie titled Life, and Nothing More …, which is set against the backdrop of the 1990 World Cup in Italy. The narrative follows a father and son who embark on a journey to a village devastated by an earthquake, a location featured in Kiarostami’s previous works. The son, eager to witness the clash between Argentina and Brazil, encounters a villager who, despite enduring personal losses, diligently adjusts a television antenna to catch the match between the two South American powerhouses.

Kiarostami later reflected on this poignant moment, stating: “This sequence is directly drawn from a similar experience during my trip to the earthquake-stricken region in the early days after the disaster. [The man] had his left arm in a cast, was shirtless, and with his right hand was striking one stone against another at the base of the antenna to secure it. I saw that after that event, what mattered there was life – and then football.”

In the past, football and the World Cup represented a beacon of hope for many Iranians.

The nation celebrated its qualification for the 1998 World Cup after overcoming Australia in a two-leg playoff, an achievement that was marked by nationwide festivities, special broadcasts, and countless interviews highlighting the event.

Fast forward four decades, and the national football team has become a focal point of controversy in Iran, reflecting the nation’s turbulent political landscape and collective memories.

Since qualifying for the World Cup in 1998, Iran has missed two subsequent tournaments, each qualification previously leading to public celebrations—except for the most recent one. While online platforms abound with footage of jubilant celebrations from past qualifications, the same cannot be said for the latest achievement.

Following the tragic death of Mahsa Amini in police custody in September 2022, a significant portion of Iranian society began to distance itself from the national team. This incident ignited one of the strongest waves of protests seen since the Islamic Revolution, known as the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement.

As the Qatar World Cup approached, many protesters felt that the players had failed to voice their support for the demonstrations. Even their gesture of silence during the national anthem before the match against England, intended as a tribute to those who lost their lives in the protests, did little to mend the rift. Consequently, for some Iranians, the national team became synonymous with the regime, further deepening the divide.

Nima, a 42-year-old expatriate, expressed his disillusionment: “Iran’s national team has gone from being a team that represented the people during the war with Iraq or the 1998 World Cup, to a team that now promotes the regime. That’s why I no longer care what results they get.”

Economic hardship, dwindling purchasing power, and the looming threat of war have collectively diminished the significance of football for Iranians, marking a stark contrast to the excitement surrounding the 2014 World Cup, when even a narrow 1–0 defeat to Argentina sparked celebrations in the streets. During the 2018 tournament, the team’s matches were broadcast on large screens at Azadi Stadium, drawing enthusiastic crowds.

Arya, 38, lamented, “I’ve never seen the World Cup feel this unimportant and lacking in excitement for me. Part of it is due to war-related issues, economic conditions and all the hardships of the past year. On top of that, there’s been a growing gap between the national team and the people in recent years.”

“I don’t necessarily blame the players; maybe society expects too much from footballers. But one thing is clear: this current generation of the Iranian national team has never been able to build a proper, direct connection with the people.”

In the lead-up to the Qatar World Cup, elements of the opposition attempted to pressure FIFA to exclude Iran from participation, though such efforts were unlikely to succeed given FIFA’s stance. Furthermore, following a series of attacks by the United States on Iran beginning February 28, the likelihood of Iran’s participation in the 2026 World Cup grew increasingly uncertain, and public interest in football and the national team waned.

Even prior to these developments, the domestic league in Iran was mired in unusual circumstances that dampened spectator interest. After the protests in January resulted in thousands of deaths—government figures claiming more than 3,000, while opposition estimates suggest up to 40,000—the Iranian Premier League was held without spectators, and most players refrained from celebrating goals.

Ali Moghani, a sports journalist and presenter at Iranian national television, noted that signs of dwindling interest in football became evident at the beginning of the current season in August. “Even though it was the season before the World Cup, this year’s league felt less exciting,” he remarked. “It seemed like everyone was just going through the motions. There’s also hardly any debate about the World Cup squad. The bigger reason is that football is no longer a priority in Iranian society.”

The national team’s status is being scrutinized by opposition media outside of Iran, impacting perceptions within the country.

Iran International, a media outlet supportive of Reza Pahlavi, son of the former Shah, has consistently depicted the players as aligned with the regime over the past four years.

Pejman Rahbar, editor-in-chief of Varzesh3, Iran’s most visited sports website, suggested that the public’s disengagement is partly fueled by negative portrayals in foreign media. “It seems there has been a lot of negative framing against the national team,” he stated, “especially by Persian-language media outside the country and particularly Iran International, aimed at undermining national team players. They are deserving athletes but it has to some extent succeeded in turning public opinion against them.”

Rahbar remains hopeful that once international internet access, which has been restricted for nearly three months due to the war, is restored in Iran, interest in the World Cup will revive, although he expresses uncertainty regarding sentiments toward the team. “If we look at data, such as website traffic, it seems that with the return of internet access and social media, the World Cup atmosphere in Iran will become lively again,” he asserted. “There is no doubt about that. But whether that sense of attachment to the national team will be like before, I’m not sure.”

What remains evident is that this national team faces a much steeper challenge in rallying the public compared to their predecessors. Perhaps only a significant achievement, such as progressing beyond the group stage for the first time or reaching the last 16, could rekindle the spirit of football as Kiarostami once envisioned it—a symbol of hope for the people of Iran.