Summary
- Iranian Americans face an unprecedented World Cup as the US hosts Iran’s team amid ongoing conflict between the nations.
- Iran must cross the border from Mexico for each match while the official governing body lost their entire ticket allocation.
- The diaspora is divided over whether to support a team representing a government many oppose.
AI-generated summary was reviewed by a CNN editor.
Moorpark, California —
The crest is red, white and green – the colors of the Iranian flag. Nader Adeli, the 65-year-old captain of Arya Football Club, holds up the jersey and laughs: “We are Iranian! We are Aryan, alright?”
All 11 Arya FC players on the field are Iranian or Iranian American.
It is a Wednesday evening in Moorpark, in the San Fernando Valley, and a friendly game against another local recreational league team is about to kick off.
Less than 50 miles away at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, renamed Los Angeles stadium for the duration of the World Cup, Iran’s national team on Monday will play their first match under unprecedented circumstances.
For the first time in World Cup history, a host nation is at war with one of its participants. Visa delays, immigration restrictions, and travel bans have made the logistics and the optics of Team Iran’s participation confusing, to say the least.
As the first match day approaches for Iran, Arya FC players find themselves at the crossroads of cultural identity, sports and politics.
Take the jersey.
“You’ve probably heard of the dilemma between the Allah in the middle and the sun and lion,” Adeli said. He wanted the design to acknowledge the team’s all-Iranian heritage, but without getting into the controversy of which flag to use.
Iran’s official flag features the Islamic emblem in its middle white stripe and the phrase “Allahu’ Akbar”, Arabic for “God is great” written across multiple times in white.
“This is not my flag. To me, that’s a terrorist organization, period,” said Ramin Ghashghaei, 61, an Arya FC defender and immigration attorney.
His opinion is shared by many Iranians in the United States. They prefer a historic flag used for centuries, until the 1979 revolution, that is now associated with groups opposing Iran’s Islamic government: the Sun and Lion flag, in which a golden lion holding up a curved sword takes the place of the Islamic emblem in the center.
But football’s governing body FIFA has a stadium code of conduct prohibits “banners, flags, apparel and other paraphernalia that are of a political, offensive and/or discriminatory nature” from World Cup venues. It has pointed to that policy when asked whether fans would be permitted to bring the Lion and Sun flag into stadiums, upsetting Iranian fans and the wider diaspora – so much so that a protest is planned to take place outside the stadium during Iran’s first game.
But the flag controversy is just one of the issues that divide the community of Iranians abroad.
Following the airstrikes that killed Iran’s Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei in February 2026, crowds took to the streets in the Persian neighborhood of Westwood, also known as “Tehrangeles”, to celebrate his demise. They chanted “Thank you, President Trump” and “Thank you, Bibi Netanyahu” while flying Sun and Lion flags.
But others cautioned that US strikes did not guarantee regime change, expressed skepticism that the human cost of a war would be worth it and questioned Trump’s motivations.
After more than 100 days of war, the World Cup has re-ignited these debates – and despite a lot of assurances from Trump, the conflict is still not over though both the US and Iran have signaled an agreement will be signed.
To some, the Islamic Republic’s political grip on the sport runs too deep to ignore. Ghashghaei, the Arya FC player, plans to boycott the tournament – which only takes place once every four years – entirely.
“I love soccer — soccer is inherently in the Persian culture,” he said. “We talk about it in family gatherings, elders, youngsters, women and men in the stadium cheering, going at each other. That’s beautiful.”
But he won’t be watching Team Melli.
“That is not an Iranian national team in my opinion. In Iran, everything is about who you know, who you buy, political ideology. Do you support the Islamic Republic or you don’t? If you do, then maybe you get a priority to be in the team. That’s just a political move.”
Arya FC captain Adeli echoes his teammate’s sentiments on Iran’s team selection but his heart remains with the national squad nonetheless.
Omeed Askary, a 26-year-old Iranian American attorney in New York, drew a parallel with the US team, who he will also be cheering on.
“I’m an American. I want American athletes to do really well. Does that mean I support President Trump, his administration, ICE, even the American military’s operations? Of course not. I still want my team to do well,” he said.
“Iran is a theocratic dictatorship,” he added. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not really good football players, that they don’t speak my language, eat my food, share my culture. And a win for Iran far precedes the foundation of the Islamic Republic and will far outlast its rule over the country.”
Askary had a ticket to the Iran-Egypt match in Seattle on June 26, but resold it, saying he couldn’t bring himself to be counted in a crowd he imagined Trump would tweet about.
A World Cup team overshadowed by war
The question of who to root for has been further complicated by who can even get into the stadium. Typically, under FIFA regulations, 8% of tickets to every World Cup match are reserved for each nation competing so that national federations can sell them to their fans.
Last week, Iran’s football federation announced that its entire ticket allocation had been withdrawn, leaving fans who had already made travel plans with nothing.
“Under current circumstances,” the federation said, “we are unable to provide even a single ticket to supporters of the national team.”
Fans were not the only ones struggling with logistical challenges. Getting the team to their matches has required a complex arrangement with no precedent in World Cup history.
Iran soccer team arrives in Tijuana, Mexico
Iran soccer team arrives in Tijuana, Mexico
1:41
The Iran team was originally supposed to be based in Tucson, Arizona. Instead, they landed at Tijuana International Airport on June 7, setting up camp at Centro Xoloitzcuintle just south of the US border. At the airport entrance, around 20 fans waved flags as the team arrived.
Every group-stage match will involve a border crossing into the US, but, according to a spokesperson for the Iranian Football Federation, players will only enter the US one day before the first match and two days before each of the next two matches to minimize their time in the country.
Head coach Amir Ghalenoei told Iran’s semi-official Tasnim news agency that management staff, media personnel and an executive director had still not been granted permission to cross at all.
“I ask you, what kind of treatment is this?” Ghalenoei said last Sunday, according to Tasnim.
Federation president Mehdi Taj called Washington’s conduct a reflection of “malice and a lack of equality among teams,” according to the Iranian Students’ News Agency, and said the federation would file a protest with FIFA.
In Adeli’s view, the travel time and coordination required for Team Iran just to show up to its matches poses a clear competitive disadvantage – to a team that has already been dealing with the horrors of war for months. To him, it’s time this war ends, but many others, like Ghashghaei, disagree.
“Trump made a promise to the Iranian people,” he said. “We’ve been waiting for freedom.”
Trump expresses optimism over Iran memorandum of understanding
Trump expresses optimism over Iran memorandum of understanding
2:05
For Kevan Harris, a professor of sociology at UCLA and an expert on modern Iran and Iranian society, none of this is surprising.
Harris, who is Iranian American, says the community has been through a political wringer since the Mahsa Amini protests of 2022, which brought many Iranians who had never been particularly politically engaged into a period of intense activism.
In 2026, many believed the war might accelerate regime change. When it didn’t, what followed was something Harris calls demobilization.
“There are people who don’t speak to each other anymore in Los Angeles,” he said, adding that in war, more militaristic voices tend to win. “The nationalism of a different hue comes to the fore. What that really means is demobilization. People are disassociating themselves in some ways.”
In the middle of all that, comes a World Cup like none before. Harris is cautious about predicting what it will mean. The sport, he suggests, operates not from logic but from something older and harder to argue with.
“Of course, I’m not gonna cheer for this team because it doesn’t represent me,” he said, describing the position many in the diaspora hold heading into Monday. “But you kind of can’t help it — because it doesn’t really come from that rational place.”
He recalls the Brazilian national team under military dictatorship in the early 1970s.
“Once the team started winning, people basically forgot about the politics. People see themselves represented as a team, they feel this collectivity,” he said.
He is not predicting that will happen here. “Sports is supposed to displace war,” he said. “It’s not supposed to be war.”
Brazil took the 1970 Cup home, and while the military regime used soccer star Pelé as a propaganda tool, people cheered anyway. The trophy did not change any laws or soften the dictatorship’s grip on culture and society, but for 90 minutes at a time, none of that was the point.
As Iran takes the field on Monday, war may or may not still be raging, pending peace talks. Adeli, for one, has made peace with the duality.
“At the end of the day,” he said, “it is football time.”
