During Civil Unrest, Iran’s World Cup Team Becomes A Divisive Symbol

In most instances, a dramatic World Cup victory would ignite nationwide celebration in a soccer country like Iran. Given what’s been happening in the nation—especially lately—it’s much more complex than that. The scenes of Iranian jubilance inside the Ahmed Bin Ali stadium in Qatar after the crucial late win against Wales tell just a fraction of the story.

Multiple millions of viewers worldwide would have seen an outpour of emotion from the players and their supporters. Two priceless late goals have kept coach Carlos Queiroz’s side in contention to make the competition’s knockout stages for the first time in its history, making for a perfect response to the heavy defeat at the hands of England in the first outing.

But there are far more pressing matters. The death of 22-year-old woman Mahsa Amini in police custody—detained after supposedly breaching the strict dress code expected of women in Iran—sparked mass protests and awareness raising, both inside the country and abroad. It has proved to be a breaking point for many people angered by such authoritarian laws, in this case, concerning women.

And so, national pride is not felt by everyone. And, rightly or wrongly, an association between soccer players—with the patriotism a World Cup brings—and the Iranian government has come forth. There has even been some debate on whether the team, comprising a few names from top European clubs, should compete in the event.

How the Iranian coach and squad have responded to the situation is fascinating. Quieroz has largely avoided non-sporting questions directed at the camp. As for the players, they stayed silent during the national anthem before the encounter with England, only to sing it ahead of their second game to the audible disapproval of some supporters in the arena.

A handful, including the Bayer Leverkusen striker Sardar Azmoun, have not been afraid to speak openly about issues back home, although the repercussions for players are worrying. Authorities arrested fellow international Voria Ghafouri—not included in the tournament selection—for “spreading propaganda” after criticizing the regime amid a harsh crackdown.

Indeed, just what made Iran’s players change tack and sing could be the result of pressures from Iran, or indeed FIFA, which has clamped down on what it deems political symbols or gestures at this tournament. An Iranian fan wearing a protest t-shirt was also reportedly escorted away by officials at the second game.

After the Wales result, much of Iran’s media reaction centered around Quieroz and his side’s performance, although there was some focus on the issues elsewhere. The English language edition of the outlet Kayhan led with the t-shirt incident, as many other reports stuck to soccer.

As things stand, there is an ideological battle around what the team represents, if success is good for Iran or another case of sports-washing—celebrating achievement in the face of other concerns.

Only earlier this year were Iranian women allowed into a stadium to watch top-tier domestic soccer, ending a four-decade wait. Consequently, World Cup fever may represent a newfound expression of freedom or another reminder of just how far behind Iran is due to its restrictions.

For a World Cup team to become so politicized is quite remarkable. So often a binding force in a country, Iran has instead thrown up questions over national identity and who and what soccer players represent amid a crisis.

And if things couldn’t get any more politically charged, Iran’s upcoming opponent is the United States, with whom it has historically shared a tense diplomatic relationship. Queiroz and his men know they are playing for a place in the later stages of a high-stakes competition. What they don’t know is the impact their possible future success will have beyond this campaign.