When football fans around the world watch the FIFA World Cup, they celebrate goals, victories, and unforgettable moments. Every nation dreams of seeing its team advance, and every player dreams of scoring the winning goal.
For most countries, the greatest joy comes after a goal.
For many Iranians, however, the experience has become painfully different.
Throughout the 2026 FIFA World Cup, countless Iranians inside and outside the country watched every match with emotions unfamiliar to most football supporters: anxiety, fear, and inner conflict. Many hoped not to see the Islamic Republic’s national team score. Instead, they found themselves hoping their opponents would win by a convincing margin, bringing the tournament to an early end for the team representing the Islamic Republic.
To many observers, this may seem shocking. Why would people wish defeat upon the team carrying their country’s name?
The answer lies beyond football.
For millions of Iranians, the distinction is clear: this is not simply “Iran’s national team”, it is the national team operating under the Islamic Republic. In their eyes, international sporting events have long been used as instruments of political legitimacy and state propaganda rather than as celebrations of the Iranian people and their rich civilization.
This feeling is reinforced whenever public figures associated with the team are perceived as aligning themselves with the regime rather than standing with the people. One incident that generated significant criticism among some Iranians involved a player making a gun gesture after scoring a goal against an opposing team. Many interpreted the celebration as deeply insensitive, especially after years in which protesters inside Iran have faced violence and repression. While others may have understood the gesture differently, for many Iranians the symbolism reopened painful memories.
This is why many believe that individual players do not automatically represent the aspirations of the Iranian nation. Wearing the national jersey alone is not enough. Representation also carries a moral responsibility toward the people whose flag is worn. The celebrations following the team’s elimination were therefore not celebrations against Iran.
They were celebrations against a political system that many Iranians believe has taken their homeland hostage for decades.
Across Europe, North America, Australia, and countless other parts of the world, Iranian communities expressed relief rather than disappointment. Social media filled with messages saying that the regime had lost another opportunity to use football as a political tool. The joy was not born from hatred of football, nor from a lack of patriotism.
On the contrary.
It came from a deep love for Iran—a love that separates the country from the government that rules it.
One day, millions of Iranians hope to cheer for a national team that truly represents the Iranian people rather than any political ideology. A team whose victories unite the nation instead of dividing it. A team whose players are remembered for their skill, humility, and respect for their fellow citizens.
Until that day arrives, many Iranians will continue to make a distinction that much of the world struggles to understand:
They have never stopped loving Iran.
They simply refuse to confuse Iran with the Islamic Republic.
Jasmine Navabi