“As soon as I saw the coach speaking about Gaza, I knew the Egyptian team was finished.” Those were my wife’s words in the immediate wake of Egypt's loss to Argentina in the 2026 World Cup round of 16 match.
Those of us who belong to the Arab diaspora are well aware that my wife’s observation is neither rare nor novel in our communities, but non-Arabs and non-Muslims would find this observation more than a little confusing. What does Gaza and Palestine have to do with Egypt’s elimination from the 2026 World Cup?
But Arabs and Muslims are watching a completely different tournament.
Like all sports, football is about the imposition of will. What makes football distinct from war and politics in the minds of most fans is that, in football, the two sides are ostensibly competing on a level playing field. The general assumption is that despite the enormous resources, advertising power, economic leverage, political stability, and social safety nets, the global north and the wretched of the earth all must compete under the same ruleset.
The Arab sees such a view of the sport as deeply naïve. In the Arab/Muslim imagination, it was no coincidence that it was an Arab team, Algeria, that was victim to a German-Austrian conspiracy in the 1982 World Cup. Nor was it an accident that, in 1986, the referee bizarrely blew his whistle just as Iraq scored their first-ever goal in a World Cup campaign (from a header off a corner kick).
It was not happenstance that led to Morocco’s elimination from the 1998 World Cup after a seemingly invincible Brazil lost 2-1 to totally forgettable Norway , leading to the advancement of those two teams and the exit of the Atlas Lions. To many Arabs, all of these events are examples of a conspiracy against our athletes and against our people.
To some, this may seem like a cherry-picked selection of unfortunate results. Footballing powerhouses and NATO allies can also suffer injustices. Francesco Totti’s sending off in 2002 and Frank Lampard’s un-counted ‘ghost’ goal against Germany in 2010 come to mind. Moreover, the Italians have failed to qualify for the last three World Cups, and England have failed to lift the trophy since 1966. Yet, national conspiracies related to these events are practically non-existent.
This is largely because for Arabs, football is not distinct from the politics and the wars of their region. Football is, in fact, an extension of these theatres. The Arab e xpects to see the same injustice witnessed on the political and kinetic battlefields play out on the pitch. Indeed, FIFA, UEFA, the UN, and the ICC are equally unwilling or unable to treat us fairly. We view football with the same suspicion that we view the global order.
Whilst some argue that there is simply not enough evidence of corruption, misfortune, and bad calls to draw a conclusion, it seems the 2026 World Cup has caused a shift.
The list of bias incidents and injustices has felt endless. The shameful treatment of the Iranian squad ( including visa restrictions and a slew of highly suspicious disallowed goals ), the incredibly suspicious penalty granted to Belgium against Senegal, Trump’s unprecedented success in appealing an American red card , and – most recently – a string of bizarre and inconsistent calls in the 3-2 defeat of Egypt at the hands of Argentina, have all further cemented the Arab belief that the playing-field is anything but fair.
There are several reasons for this. FIFA has historically favoured high-profile showdowns that fit the organisation’s existing storylines (Mbappe vs Messi, Europe vs South America, etc.). But the question of Palestine is also seen as a key factor in such ‘misbehaviour’. Many Arabs believe that as long as you support the Palestinians, you will never be able to impose your will in this world. Not in politics. Not in commerce. Not even in sport.
It is this line of thinking that led my wife to conclude that the Egyptian football team was finished the moment the coach dedicated their victory to the martyrs of Palestine. It seems obvious, in Arab eyes, that such a team, and such a coach, are destined to receive unfair treatment, particularly when the tournament is being held in a country that has armed Israel’s genocide in Gaza, while silencing, imprisoning, and deporting those demanding justice for Palestinians in its own borders.
So, if football is so unjust, why do we continue to watch?
Again, football is about the imposition of will. It is one country’s tactics, training, development, grit, and determination, set against another. And despite our anticipation of injustice, we watch with the hope that – maybe this time – we will be able to impose our will despite the conspiracy against us.
As for those of us who believe that supporting Palestine is somehow costing Arab teams success on the international stage, we watch because we would rather see our teams suffer a dignified loss than live in the indignity of abandoning Palestine.
As my heartbroken Egyptian friend concluded following his country’s exit from the tournament: “Wallahy, we will not be free until Palestine is free.”
Bassam Abun-Nadi is a researcher and educator who specialises in Palestinian history, identity, and resistance. He is the creator of the podcast PreOccupation: A-Not-So-Brief History of Palestine. The podcast is a deep dive into Palestine's social, economic, and political histories.
Follow Bassam on Instagram: PreOccupationPod
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