Abbas Kiarostami, the renowned Iranian filmmaker, created a poignant movie titled Life, and Nothing More…, which unfolds against the backdrop of the 1990 World Cup in Italy. The narrative follows a father and son journeying to a village ravaged by an earthquake, the same location featured in Kiarostami’s previous works. The son, eager to witness Argentina’s clash with Brazil, encounters a local man who, despite experiencing profound personal loss, is determined to fix his television antenna to catch the match between the two South American football powerhouses.
Kiarostami later recounted this moment:
“This scene is directly inspired by a similar experience during my visit to the earthquake-affected area shortly 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 realized that after such an event, what truly mattered was life—and then football.”
At one time, football and the World Cup resonated so deeply with Iranians that they embodied a sense of hope and continuity in life.
The qualification for the 1998 World Cup—achieved through a two-legged victory over Australia—was celebrated for years like a national holiday, with special broadcasts, interviews, and repeat showings of match highlights on state television.
Fast forward four decades, and football, particularly the national team, has morphed into a contentious topic within Iranian society amid a pivotal historical juncture; this discord has roots deeply entwined in politics and the collective memory of the nation.
Iran has missed two World Cups since the historic 1998 qualification, and each time the nation celebrated in the streets—except for the most recent occasion. While videos showcasing past celebrations are readily available online, there seems to be a conspicuous absence of footage documenting any festivities related to the qualification for this World Cup.
A segment of Iranian society started to distance itself from the national team after the tragic death of Mahsa Amini in police custody in September 2022, which ignited one of the most significant waves of protests since the Islamic Revolution. These protests became emblematic of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement.
Just before the Qatar World Cup, many protesters felt that the players had not openly supported the fight against the repression of the demonstrations. Even their silent tribute during the national anthem before the opening match against England, honoring those who lost their lives in the unrest, failed to bridge the gap between the team and the demonstrators. Consequently, for many Iranians, the national team has been labeled as “the regime’s team,” further deepening this divide.
Nima, a 42-year-old expatriate, expressed his disillusionment:
“Iran’s national team has transitioned from representing the people during the Iraq war and the 1998 World Cup to now being seen as a promoter of the regime. That’s why I no longer care about their results.”
Widespread economic hardships, dwindling purchasing power, and the looming specter of war have collectively diminished football’s significance in Iranian society, marking its lowest point in decades. This stands in stark contrast to the atmosphere surrounding the 2014 World Cup, where even a narrow 1-0 defeat to Argentina sparked celebrations in the streets. During the 2018 World Cup, the team’s games were broadcast on large screens at Azadi Stadium, receiving enthusiastic responses from fans.
Arya, 38, lamented,
“I’ve never experienced the World Cup feeling so trivial and devoid of excitement. Factors like war, economic strife, and the myriad challenges of the past year all contribute to this sentiment. Additionally, there’s been a growing disconnect between the national team and the populace in recent years.”
He added,
“I don’t necessarily blame the players; perhaps society has unrealistic expectations of footballers. However, it’s evident that this current generation of the Iranian national team has struggled to forge a genuine connection with the people.”
Leading up to the Qatar World Cup, segments of the opposition attempted to pressure FIFA through correspondence aimed at barring Iran from participation—an effort likely futile given FIFA’s established stance. Following a series of attacks by the United States—one of the three hosts for the upcoming 2026 World Cup—beginning on February 28 and lasting for 40 days, Iran’s chances of competing grew increasingly uncertain, resulting in diminished public interest in football and the national squad.
Prior to this, the Iranian domestic league had been subjected to unique circumstances that adversely affected public engagement. Following protests in January that led to thousands of fatalities (with government figures citing over 3,000, while opposition sources suggest up to 40,000), the Iranian Premier League was conducted behind closed doors, with most players refraining from celebrating goals.
Sports journalist Ali Moghani noted that signs of dwindling interest in football were evident from the beginning of the current season in August.
“Even though it was a World Cup year, this season’s league felt less thrilling,” he observed. “It seemed as though everyone was merely going through the motions. There’s hardly any discussion about the World Cup roster. The fundamental issue is that football is no longer a priority in Iranian society.”
The discussion surrounding the national team extends beyond Iran, with opposition media outlets influencing perceptions within the country.
Iran International, which is perceived as supportive of Reza Pahlavi, the son of the former Shah, has consistently portrayed 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, believes that part of the public’s disengagement is due to negative portrayals from foreign media. He stated,
“It appears there has been significant negative framing against the national team, particularly from Persian-language media abroad and especially Iran International, aimed at discrediting the players. These are talented athletes, yet this portrayal has, to some extent, swayed public opinion against them.”
Rahbar speculated that once international internet access—cut off for nearly three months due to the conflict—is restored in Iran, interest in the World Cup may revive, although he remains uncertain about public sentiment towards the team.
“If we examine data such as website traffic, it seems that with the restoration of internet access and social media, the World Cup atmosphere in Iran will become vibrant once again,” he commented. “There’s no doubt about that. However, whether the emotional connection to the national team will return to its former levels remains uncertain.”
What is evident is that this national team faces a significantly greater challenge in galvanizing public support than their predecessors did. Perhaps only a remarkable achievement—like advancing beyond the group stage for the first time or reaching the last 16—could once again transform football, as Kiarostami envisioned, into a beacon of hope for the Iranian people.
