After four decades marred by conflict, international sanctions, and political oppression, Iraq has finally ended its long exile from football’s greatest stage. The Lions of Mesopotamia booked their ticket to the 2026 World Cup with a nerve-shredding play-off victory over Bolivia in Mexico—a poignant location that also hosted their debut in 1986. For a country of 46 million that lives and breathes the beautiful game, the qualification sparked delirious celebrations across Baghdad and beyond, as a new generation of players prepares to take on Norway, France, and Senegal in one of the tournament’s most unforgiving groups.
The echoes of 1986 are impossible to ignore. Karim Allawi was part of that pioneering Iraqi squad, a defender who watched from the bench as his team lost all three matches in Mexico. Now 66, Allawi speaks with a mix of nostalgia and hope. “This is truly a group of death and tougher than 1986,” he told the BBC. An injury the day before the Paraguay game cruelly denied him the chance to start, but the pain ran deeper. In a 1-0 defeat that still haunts Iraqi football, Ahmed Rahdi’s second-half equaliser was mysteriously disallowed—the referee blowing for half-time as the corner kick sailed into the box. A red card against Belgium later compounded the misery. “We suffered from poor decisions,” Allawi recalls, yet he treasures the memory of sharing the pitch with legends and feeling the unique World Cup atmosphere.
Why did it take 40 years to return? The answer lies in a brutal confluence of history. Iraq’s modern era has been shaped by the Iran-Iraq war, the Gulf War, crippling economic sanctions, and the dictatorship of Saddam Hussein. Football became a pawn in a regime of terror when Saddam’s son, Uday, was put in charge of the national team in 1984. Under his sadistic rule, players endured unimaginable punishments—forced to train with concrete balls, flogged, and imprisoned in torturous conditions. Allawi is guarded when touching on this period: “To put it briefly, during that period, there was a very strict principle of reward and punishment in place.” The 2003 US-led invasion and subsequent instability further crippled Iraqi football, forcing the national team to play home qualifiers in Jordan, Malaysia, or Iran for nearly two decades. Only in 2020 did FIFA approve the southern city of Basra as a venue, restoring a sliver of normality.
Against this backdrop, the current squad’s achievement feels nothing short of miraculous. Ranked 57th in the world, Iraq is no longer a collection of domestic-based unknowns. Ali Al-Hamadi has impressed in the English Championship with Ipswich Town; Zidane Iqbal, once of Manchester United, now plies his trade at Utrecht in the Netherlands; and Kevin Yakob arrives fresh from winning the Danish title with AGF. The appointment of Graham Arnold as head coach in 2025 proved a masterstroke—the Australian, who guided the Socceroos to the last 16 in 2022, instilled tactical discipline and guided Iraq through a gruelling 21-match qualification marathon, including a tight play-off against the United Arab Emirates before the Bolivia showdown.
The reward is a daunting Group of Death alongside Norway, France, and Senegal. Erling Haaland’s Norway has matured into a formidable European force; France are multiple-time world champions; Senegal, African champions, bring physicality and flair. Yet Iraq is embracing the challenge. TV reporter Nawar Faeq Al-Rikabi captures the mood: “People may think we are the weakest team in the group but anything could happen. We will be fine, there is no pressure on the Iraqi players, they just have to perform and we have quality players who can perform.” He draws confidence from Arnold’s pedigree, recalling how even Argentina struggled to beat Australia in 2022.
The team’s modest target is to surpass the meagre returns of 1986: scoring more than one goal would set a new benchmark, a victory would be historic, and reaching the knockout stage would be the stuff of dreams. The players are aware of the weight they carry—for millions of compatriots, the World Cup represents a rare, unifying joy in a nation fractured by decades of hardship. When they returned from Mexico, the squad was greeted by a euphoric open-top bus parade through Baghdad’s crowded streets, a reflection of just how much this opportunity means.
Even the qualification journey was fraught with drama. The conflict in the Middle East earlier this year threatened to derail the decisive play-off; some players and coach Arnold struggled to leave Iraq and reach Mexico in time. That they overcame the logistical nightmare only adds to the lore of this resilient team. Now, all eyes turn to 16 June, when Iraq faces Norway in Boston. For Karim Allawi and the millions watching, it is a chance to exorcise four decades of pain and prove that the Lions of Mesopotamia belong on the world’s biggest stage.
Based on reporting from BBC Sport.