It started as a question of logistics. Now it’s a matter of geopolitics.
Iran’s national football team qualified for the 2026 FIFA World Cup with games to spare, confirming its status as one of Asia’s most consistent forces. But with the tournament still a year away, its place in the finals is no longer guaranteed—not because of sporting failure or administrative missteps, but due to a rapidly intensifying conflict with the United States.
On June 23, Iran launched missiles at U.S. military targets in the Middle East, including toward the Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar, which houses U.S. troops. The move came in response to earlier American strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities. With both sides now engaged in direct military actions, the conflict has reached a point of open hostilities. For FIFA, the governing body of world football, this has created an unprecedented dilemma: What happens when one of the tournament’s hosts is engaged in warfare with a qualified team?
War, travel bans, and a FIFA bind
Iran was one of the earliest teams to book its ticket to the expanded 48-team 2026 World Cup, joining co-hosts USA, Canada, and Mexico along with other early qualifiers like Japan and Argentina. The squad, featuring a mix of veterans and up-and-coming talent, was preparing for its fourth consecutive World Cup and seventh overall.
But external forces may upend that trajectory. The United States, under the Trump administration, has reinstated a travel ban covering citizens of multiple countries, including Iran. Although the ban contains carve-outs for athletes, coaches, and essential support staff, it blocks ordinary Iranian fans from entering the country. That means Iran’s matches held on U.S. soil would take place without its supporters in the stands.
This alone is cause for concern. But the broader conflict may force FIFA to consider more drastic measures. If military activity escalates—especially if the U.S. or its allies are targeted again—FIFA could come under pressure to suspend Iran from the competition altogether. The precedent exists: Yugoslavia was barred from Euro 1992 and the 1994 World Cup qualifiers due to UN sanctions during the Balkan wars. More recently, Russia was expelled from the 2022 tournament after its invasion of Ukraine.
FIFA president Gianni Infantino has long argued that football should be a space for unity, not division. In 2022, when Iran faced calls for expulsion due to its human rights abuses and crackdowns on protesters, Infantino maintained that national teams should not be judged by the actions of their governments. But this situation is different. Iran isn’t just the subject of criticism—it’s now exchanging missiles with a host nation.
FIFA has yet to comment publicly on the latest developments, but it’s highly likely that contingency planning is underway. With 60 of the tournament’s 104 matches slated for U.S. venues, including all quarterfinals and the final, any compromise will need to address security, competitive fairness, and the tournament’s global image.
Adding further complexity is the question of perception. If FIFA allows Iran to participate, will it be accused of ignoring the realities of war? If it bans Iran, will that decision be seen as politically motivated or even hypocritical, given that the U.S. is also involved in the conflict? The governing body finds itself walking a tightrope between its stated apolitical mission and the geopolitical pressures that continue to mount.
What happens next?
At this point, several outcomes are possible. The most plausible scenario is that Iran competes in the tournament, but under special restrictions. FIFA could structure the group-stage draw to place Iran in a group based in Canada or Mexico, allowing Iranian fans to attend games without needing U.S. visas. This workaround would buy time, but it wouldn’t solve the problem of later rounds. If Iran progresses to the knockout stage, it would almost certainly have to play on American soil—raising fresh concerns about security and optics.
Another possibility is that FIFA suspends Iran before the tournament. If the conflict deepens, particularly with further missile exchanges or if U.S. personnel are killed, FIFA could act swiftly to remove Iran from the draw. That would open the door for a replacement team from Asia or another confederation, depending on how FIFA decides to fill the vacancy. The diplomatic consequences would be severe, potentially straining FIFA’s relations with Iran, other regional powers, and fans across the Muslim world.
The third, more optimistic path would involve a de-escalation of hostilities. If a ceasefire is reached, or if diplomatic negotiations succeed in reducing tensions, the tournament could proceed as planned. In that scenario, FIFA might even push the U.S. to loosen visa restrictions, allowing some Iranian fans to enter the country on a special basis. But given the current trajectory, this outcome seems increasingly remote.
There’s also the possibility that Iran itself could withdraw, either in protest or due to security concerns. While unlikely, such a move would carry enormous symbolic weight and might even be encouraged by hardliners within Iran’s leadership if they feel the country is being disrespected or treated unfairly by the tournament’s organizers.
The tournament draw is scheduled for December 2025. If Iran is still in the field at that point, FIFA will face enormous scrutiny over how it structures the groupings. Will it quietly ensure Iran avoids U.S.-based matches? Or will it let the chips fall where they may, hoping for the best? Either way, the most politically charged World Cup in a generation is already taking shape.
