Abbas Kiarostami, the renowned Iranian filmmaker, created a poignant narrative in his film Life, and Nothing More …, which unfolds during the 1990 World Cup in Italy. This story revolves around a father and son journeying to a village devastated by an earthquake—a site previously featured in Kiarostami’s prior works. Eager to witness the match between Argentina and Brazil, the son encounters a villager who, despite enduring significant personal loss, is determinedly adjusting a television antenna to catch the game between the two football powerhouses.
Kiarostami later expressed his thoughts on this particular scene: “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.”
Once, football and the World Cup resonated deeply with the Iranian populace, symbolizing a beacon of hope for a vibrant future.
The qualification for the 1998 World Cup—secured through a two-leg victory over Australia—was celebrated throughout the nation as a significant event, marked by special broadcasts, interviews, and repeated highlights on national television.
Fast forward four decades, the national football team has become embroiled in controversy, reflecting the tumultuous political landscape and collective memory of the country.

Since missing two World Cups post-1998, each qualification has usually ignited celebrations in the streets—except for the latest one. While footage from previous celebratory moments are readily available online, there is a striking absence of videos capturing any joy surrounding the latest qualification.
A portion of Iranian society began to distance themselves from the national squad following the events of September 2022, when Mahsa Amini lost her life in police custody, sparking one of the most intense waves of protests since the Islamic Revolution. This uprising is widely recognized as the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement.
As the Qatar World Cup approached, many protesters felt that the players had not voiced sufficient support for those challenging the regime. Even the team’s gesture of solidarity before their opening match against England, where they stood silently during the national anthem to honor the deceased, failed to bridge the gap with disillusioned fans. Consequently, for some Iranians, the national team morphed into “the regime’s team,” exacerbating societal divisions.
Nima, a 42-year-old expatriate, remarked: “Iran’s national team has transitioned from a symbol of the people during the Iraq war or the 1998 World Cup, to a team that now represents the regime. That’s why I no longer care about their results.”
Economic hardships, diminishing purchasing power, and the looming threat of war have contributed to the waning significance of football for Iranians, marking its lowest importance in decades. This starkly contrasts with the atmosphere during the 2014 World Cup, when even a narrow 1–0 defeat to Argentina ignited hope-filled celebrations. During the 2018 World Cup, matches were broadcast on giant screens at Azadi Stadium, drawing enthusiastic crowds.

Arya, 38, shared: “I’ve never felt the World Cup to be this trivial and devoid of excitement. Various factors, including war-related issues, economic struggles, and the hardships of the past year, have contributed to this. Moreover, the growing disconnect between the national team and the people has intensified in recent years.”
“I don’t necessarily blame the players; perhaps society has unrealistic expectations of them. However, it is evident that this current generation of Iranian footballers has struggled to forge a genuine connection with the public.”
Before the Qatar World Cup, factions of the opposition sought to pressure FIFA through correspondence aimed at barring Iran from participating—a move likely to yield little success given FIFA’s policies. Following the United States’ aggressive stance against Iran, especially a second wave of strikes beginning on February 28 that lasted for 40 days, the prospects of Iran’s participation became increasingly uncertain, leading to a significant drop in public interest regarding football and the national team.
Even prior to this, the Iranian domestic league faced unique challenges that dampened public enthusiasm. Following protests in January that resulted in thousands of fatalities (officially over 3,000, while opposition estimates suggest up to 40,000), the Iranian Premier League was held without spectators, and many players opted not to celebrate goals.
Ali Moghani, a sports journalist and presenter for Iranian national television, noted that signs of dwindling interest in football had emerged at the start of this season in August. “Even though it was the season leading up to the World Cup, this year’s league felt less exhilarating,” he stated. “It seemed as if everyone was merely going through the motions. There’s also hardly any discussion regarding the World Cup squad. The larger issue is that football is no longer a priority for Iranian society.”

The status of the national team is also being scrutinized by opposition media outside Iran, influencing perceptions within the country.
Iran International, a media outlet seen as sympathetic to Reza Pahlavi, the son of Iran’s former Shah, has consistently portrayed 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 the public’s disenchantment is partly fueled by negative portrayals in foreign media. “It appears there has been significant adverse framing against the national team,” he commented, “especially by Persian-language outlets abroad, particularly Iran International, aimed at undermining our players. They are deserving athletes, yet this campaign has somewhat succeeded in swaying public opinion against them.”
Rahbar expressed hope that once international internet access—disrupted for nearly three months due to the conflict—is restored in Iran, interest in the World Cup might rekindle, although he remains uncertain about the public’s sentiment towards the team. “Analyzing data such as website traffic suggests that the return of internet access and social media will invigorate the World Cup atmosphere in Iran,” he asserted. “There is no doubt about that. However, whether the previous emotional connection to the national team will be reestablished is uncertain.”
What remains evident is that this national squad faces a significantly steeper challenge in rallying the public than their predecessors did. Perhaps only a monumental achievement—like advancing past the group stage for the first time or reaching the last 16—could restore football’s status, as Kiarostami once envisioned, as a symbol of hope for the Iranian people.