Bombs, Pride & the World Cup
A Better World Already Exists
Just over a week ago I had the great privilege of going to see Iran and Egypt play a World Cup match here in Seattle, WA, USA. I entered the online lottery on the FIFA website several months ago and was randomly chosen for the ability to buy two tickets. The tickets were $500 a piece. At the time I thought if I won I would likely try to sell them and make a little profit. However, when I discovered the game was Iran vs Egypt, I immediately knew this was going to be an incredible opportunity for me to attend a culturally significant event that was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Even though the tickets were expensive, I knew I had to go. The fact that it was a World Cup game was intriguing for me, but that alone is not why I wanted to attend. I wanted to attend because I knew it was going to be a rare occasion where I could be surrounded by people from Bilad al Sham, Persia and North Africa here in Seattle.
Seattle is incredibly white. Among the 50 largest cities in the US Seattle ranks 7th with approximately 60% of the population being white. Our neighbor Portland, Oregon is number 1 holding a 72% white population. So to say I am surrounded by white people is not a stretch by any means. Thus having the chance to actually be in a stadium with 66,925 other people who were mostly from SWANA (SouthWest Asia North Africa) was an opportunity I did not want to miss. And yes, it felt worth the $500 a ticket price.
Part of Seattle’s celebration leading up to the World Cup being played here included them painting all of the participating countries flags on support beams of the Monorail. My office is located near the one that had the Iran flag painted on it. I was amazed that the flag was represented after the US began a war with Iran on February 28th, 2026. And even more amazed that the flag had not been tagged. My instinct that something would be done to the Iran flag ended up being correct, but not in the way I thought. I noticed one day that the central logo of the flag had been whited out. I was a bit confused by the tame nature of the change. And then a few days later I noticed a different logo image was painted on the flag. I am assuming the alterations were done by Iranians themselves who had very strong feelings about which version of the flag should be represented. This contrast could be seen in the stadium on match day as multiple versions of the flag were on display by fans. For more on the Iran flag history and evolution check out this article by Ajam Media Collective.
In the months and weeks leading up to the game no one really knew if the Iran team would even be allowed to enter the US or if the Iranian government would permit their attendance. The political intrigue around this game was palpable amongst World Cup fans and even society at large. How crazy that I would get to be in a stadium with Iranians proudly out and actively cheering for their national team in Seattle while the U.S. was actively bombing their homeland. The U.S. even bombed Iran just hours before the match!
And as it turns out this game had been preselected as Seattle’s PRIDE week game before the two teams were announced in December 2025. Both Egypt and Iran have governments that are known for being extremely strict on sexuality. Seattle was hyped to represent the spectrum of sexual identity while on the world’s stage. This potently contrasted with how the US portrays Iran and Egypt’s governments treatment of sexuality. There was an air of uncertainty leading up to the game of how PRIDE would be received by the fans. This match had so much current political and cultural relevancy that I absolutely could not pass it up.
Next I must choose who to go with. My first thought was my brother-in-law who is Bolivian. He has by far been the biggest soccer fan I have known and I would have loved to been able to attend the game with him. However, he does not live in Seattle and had work obligations that he could not escape. I next thought of my daughter. While I do believe she would have loved the experience for cultural and political reasons, she has very little interest in soccer. She was willing to go, but did not really want to attend. Finally, I realized the perfect person to attend the game with me. My cousin Jimmy. Jimmy is my cousin on my dad’s side. I am Syrian & white. He is Syrian and Lebanese. Jimmy has been a significant influence in my life and has in the past treated me to sporting events, dinners and introduced me to books that have shifted my perspective of the world and ultimately myself. I finally had the opportunity to return the favor and to share with him a once in a lifetime experience. He immediately said yes and it was on. I don’t think either of us realized at the time how significant it would be for us to attend this game together.
Jimmy arrived on the day of the match and after getting him settled in, we headed downtown Seattle. There was a definite air of excitement. While we saw several Iranian fans, the overwhelming majority of fans we came across were Egyptian. In fact while we were walking towards the stadium we happened to end up walking with the massive Egyptian March to the Match. The group of fans stretched for many blocks. Both Jimmy and I were in awe of their presence and excitement. And for the first time we felt the rush of being surrounded by a large group of people who looked more similar to us than any other we have been around in the U.S..
We marched with the Egyptians and entered the stadium rather quickly and with ease. There was a bit of hype in the months before the game that there would be an I.C.E. presence, but they were no where to be seen. Once in the stadium there were Pride flags being handed out. I saw several fans of both Iran and Egypt holding the flags in addition to some of the fans sporting Pride colors in their outfits for the game. All in all the Pride element was what I have come to expect at Seattle events; open, inclusive and supportive of all colors and identities in attendance.
For Jimmy and I the pride we felt was for our Shami heritage. With both a Persian and North African team on the field we decided to split the difference in our support. We braved the long line to the merch shop and got a couple of hats. He got one that said Egypt and I got one that said IR Iran. There was a part of me that took a lot of pride in wearing an Iran hat in the U.S.. By the same token I would have just as gladly worn the Egypt hat. Either way we were both happy just to be there.
When we were walking to our seats I was so full of joy seeing all the beautiful Arab, Persian and North African faces. In addition my heart was full of love and pride that Palestine was being represented by fans from both Egypt and Iran. I had a Palestine soccer Jersey on and my green keffiyeh. There were many fans with Palestinian flags. One moment that brought tears to my eyes was when I saw three young women sitting together each wearing a hijab. I said to them “It feels so good to be surrounded by so many Arabs, Iranians and Egyptians!” One of them replied, “Yes! It feels like we are in another country!” Being SWANA (SouthWest Asian North African) in the U.S. is not easy. The pressure to assimilate and to not be perceived as a threat is a very real and visceral experience that is constantly felt. So much so that it feels extremely normal. It was not until being surrounded by folks who are not white that the feeling lifts and a profound sense of joy and relief came over me and many others.
Arriving at our seats we were surrounded mostly by Iranian fans. There was a family of Iranians sitting right in front of us from Canada. They had two young boys who were thrilled to be there. Although the mother and father were even more excited. Finally something for Iranians to cheer about in the U.S.! There was such a collective feeling that this was a safe place to let our guard down and cheer. For a few hours all of the fear and tension had an outlet of joy and excitement. The father of the Iranian family in front of us was so into the game that he got our entire section cheering “In Goale!” when Iran had a corner kick in front of us. His energy and passion was contagious.
Our seats were close to the end of the row. There was one seat left and I was sitting next to it. I was hopeful that it would be an Iranian or Egyptian fan. Or at the very least a person who had heritage from that region of the world. Basically anyone but a white guy. Sure enough the only white guy in our section shows up and sits right by me. And he wanted to talk. Inside I was like goddamn! My one moment to enjoy being surrounded by other SWANA folks and I get stuck sitting by a white guy who just wants to talk about what he wants to talk about. If you are white and reading this you may not understand. You maybe confused. The guy sitting next to me was not a bad guy at all. He was talking about soccer which was very relevant to the context. And he was friendly. What possible problem could I have?
Here is one example. Two Egyptian fans, a man and a woman, showed up at our row and realized their seats were at what we thought was the other end of the row. The woman was in front and was trying to figure out where their seats were. The white guy sitting next to me was thinking he was being friendly and kept forcefully encouraging them to go through our row and not worry about making everyone stand up. The Egyptian guy was trying to tell her to hold up and not go down the aisle. She was torn and because the white guy next to me kept insisting she proceeded to make everyone stand up. As the Egyptian guy entered the row he looked frustratingly at the white guy and said “You pressured her into that.” Turns out they were not even in our section. The white guy next to me then starts to vent about the Egyptian guy being rude and I did not want to hear it. I just told him “it’s a thing” referring to the fact that he did pressure her. He was just completely unaware of his privilege and that there could possibly be other perspectives that were perhaps more valid than his own. As the game went on I acclimated and was ok with chatting with my white seat mate. Like I mentioned earlier, the pressure I feel to assimilate and please white people is pervasive in my life here in Seattle. I have to hold myself in such a way that can be understood. It was attending this game that highlighted for me the amount of energy and effort that I constantly put out just to appease white people.
The experience of attending the game was magical. I have been to many sporting events in my life, but none quite like this. The difference was the spirit of the fans. They were all so welcoming and just excited to be there with something to cheer about. I remember earlier in the day when Jimmy and I were getting ready to head down to the game there was a breaking news alert that the U.S. had just bombed Iran again. To have this knowledge in such close proximity to cheering with Iranians for their national team was very surreal. Iranians are not the gay hating anti-Americans the media portrays them as. In fact the first thing the Iranian family did when they got to their seat was to offer to share their popcorn with my cousin and I. The kindness and the camaraderie expressed was both heartwarming and like a healing balm. It made me crave more time with other Arabs, Persians and North Africans.
The match itself was incredibly intense and went back and forth. The Egyptians had already qualified for the next round and did not have as much to lose. The Iranians on the other hand needed a win to make it to the next round. They also needed a win for morale. The US treated them extremely poorly and with a profound amount of distrust. They were required to fly in and out of the U.S. before and after each match all the while enduring intense security checks. They were not treated with the respect of the other teams. The Egyptian team was also treated with disrespect by the U.S. and Seattle. When traveling back from a game in Vancouver, they were required to stay in Spokane (several hours away) for security reasons. And yet even through all of this both teams and all their fans held themselves with such dignity and respect. They played their hearts out. The game ended in a tie after Iran appeared to be robbed by a highly questionable call that took a game winning goal away. There were ups and downs for all the fans. And at the end we all walked out cheering for both teams. Yes it was quite surreal hearing so many cheering for Iran after the game in the streets of Seattle. This occurring as the U.S. became the first host country in World Cup history to bomb a country on the same day it was hosting them in a match. What a surreal reality this is!
What I learned most from attending this game is that the people are not their governments. Governments wield the power, but the soul is held by the people. The people aren’t the media narrative. They aren’t the laws of their homeland. They are in fact beautiful and work to offer peace, joy and love. All that is needed is an opportunity to express it. And self expression is not something the Iranian or the U.S. government is fond of. Except there is this loop hole of sports, in this case the World Cup, where you can actually get a glimpse of what not only is possible, but actually exists. A better world exists. It is already here. We just need to create more societal spaces for its expression. And we must continue to demand our governments stop the violence, hate and misrepresentation. Like Public Enemy aptly stated many years ago “Don’t believe the hype!”. And if you are white, take a chill pill on the ‘I am white and I am right’ attitude. You have a lot to learn. And what you have to learn will lead you to a place of communal joy that transcends the fears and violence of a very unjust world.
And for me personally, I remembered the importance of my connection with my family. I have many Arab relatives and most of them have been disconnected with our Shami heritage. Being able to be in this environment with my cousin Jimmy will be a moment I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life. It was both our first time to be in a U.S. setting where the way we look was normalized. We were a part of a greater Arab, Persian, North African community. This moment was so sweet and one that I hope we both get to experience again as it is our heritage!
