With every FIFA World Cup featuring Arab national teams, an old debate returns: Can football unite people who share the Arabic language?
The tournament often rekindles a sense of pan-Arab identity, along with hopes that football might succeed where politics has failed in forging a common Arab nation. Those aspirations echo a series of unsuccessful attempts at Arab unity, from the union between Egypt and Syria to failed federation projects linking Iraq with Syria and, separately, Iraq with Jordan under the short-lived Arab Federation.
Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser became the leading champion of Arab nationalism, but his vision ultimately faltered for political and demographic reasons. The union between Egypt and Syria collapsed, the Yemen War exposed deep divisions between Nasser’s Egypt and Saudi Arabia, and the Arab defeat by Isreal in 1967 Six-Day War further weakened the movement. Following Nasser’s death, pan-Arab ambitions gradually faded.
If the World Cup revives the conversation about Arab nationalism, it also highlights one of the project’s central weaknesses: it sought to build a unified Arab identity without a shared political arena. In many ways, it was like trying to play football without a field. Language alone has never been enough to transform dozens of countries, societies and political systems into a single national space.
Politics in the Stands
The late Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano argued in Soccer in Sun and Shadow that football stadiums often became safe spaces for suppressed national identities.
Under the dictatorship of Francisco Franco in Spain, Catalans and Basques gathered in Barcelona’s Camp Nou and Bilbao’s San Mamés stadiums to sing in their own languages and display banned national symbols. Galeano also wrote that some political conflicts surfaced in football long before they erupted on the battlefield.
The breakup of Yugoslavia, he noted, offered a striking example. Long-standing hostility between Serbs and Croats frequently spilled into matches between clubs from Belgrade and Zagreb, where supporters revived historical flags and songs that foreshadowed the violence to come.
A similar dynamic can be seen at this year’s World Cup.
Egyptian football fans react at the end of their national team’s 2026 World Cup Round of 16 match against Argentina at a club park in Cairo’s Zamalek district on July 7, 2026. (Photo by Ahmed HASAN / AFP)
The expansion of the tournament from 32 to 48 teams allowed eight Arab nations to qualify, but support among Arab fans has often reflected political disputes and historical grievances rather than linguistic solidarity.
Many Algerians, for example, routinely support whichever team plays against Morocco, whether Arab or otherwise, reflecting years of political tension between the two countries. The rivalry has become so pronounced that some Algerian media outlets have reported Moroccan victories without mentioning Morocco by name. When Morocco defeated Canada, some Algerian headlines simply announced Canada’s elimination from the tournament.
Many Moroccans, in turn, do not support Algeria. Some also remain sensitive toward Egypt after tensions surrounding the most recent Africa Cup of Nations hosted in Morocco. Moroccan fans initially backed Egypt before criticism of the tournament’s organization by members of Egypt’s coaching staff quickly reversed public sentiment.
Questions of identity add another layer.
Many Moroccans object to describing their country primarily as Arab, arguing that doing so overlooks the country’s Amazigh identity. Social media users frequently challenge media organizations that refer to Morocco simply as an Arab team, insisting that Morocco’s ethnic and cultural diversity should not be reduced to a single label.
Comparable complexities shape relations between Jordan and Iraq, where political memories dating back to the era of Saddam Hussein and King Hussein continue to influence public attitudes despite the two countries once sharing Hashemite rule.
Gaza and the Politics of Support
The war in Gaza also shaped how many Arab fans viewed the tournament.
For some, solidarity with Gaza translated into support for certain teams and opposition to others based largely on political considerations rather than football.
Many Arabs supported Iran during the tournament, expressing sympathy after Tehran’s military confrontation with Israel in the recent war.
Some observers were surprised, however, when Palestinians in Gaza enthusiastically backed Egypt against Iran. Critics questioned why Gazans were not supporting Iran “after everything it had done for them” during the conflict.
That reaction overlooked the deep historical and social ties between Gaza and Egypt. Gaza was administered by Egypt for years, and many Palestinians in the territory still share linguistic, cultural and family connections with Egyptians.
Palestinian flags appeared prominently throughout the tournament, as did Israeli flags.
The presence of Israeli flags among some Argentine supporters intensified Arab backing for Egypt when the two teams met in the knockout stage. Even longtime Arab supporters of Argentina found themselves conflicted as Argentina eliminated Egypt in a match that prompted widespread criticism of the refereeing and FIFA’s handling of the game.
Egypt coach Hossam Hassan became one of the tournament’s most celebrated figures across the Arab world, not only because of his team’s performances but because he raised the Palestinian flag after Egypt’s victory over Australia and dedicated the win to the Palestinian people during his post-match press conference. He also drew praise after confronting Argentine supporters carrying Israeli flags.
Yet the political symbolism extended beyond the stadium.
While many Arab fans celebrated Hassan largely because of his stance on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, the vice president of the United Arab Emirates and ruler of Dubai, congratulated Egypt in language steeped in Arab nationalist sentiment.
“Today, the Arabs’ joy is Egyptian,” he wrote on X. “A heroic performance, a fighting spirit and a wonderful match by the Pharaohs. Best wishes to all Arabs, and congratulations to all our Arab peoples.”
The message stood out because the United Arab Emirates is one of Israel’s closest regional partners and a signatory to the Abraham Accords.
The contradictions are revealing.
The politics, history and competing identities that surround Arab nationalism at the World Cup resemble football itself: a game in which a hero can become a villain after a single mistake, fortunes can reverse in an instant and, as Galeano wrote, “the golden foot’s unlucky hour” can arrive without warning.
Like the ball itself, constantly changing direction as it moves across the pitch, politics at the World Cup can reorder loyalties just as quickly—bringing rivals together, dividing friends, or, with one wayward shot, sending everything beyond the boundaries of the field.
Adapted and translated from the original Arabic.
