All over the world, football supporters are known for challenging taboos and pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable to say and do. All in order to support their own team and unsettle the opposition. But in the Middle East and North Africa, football can have a more existential significance than what takes place on the pitch.
"The politicisation of supporter culture sets the Middle East and North Africa apart from the rest of the world. I refer to football culture in the Middle East as a political barometer," says Dag Henrik Tuastad, a Middle East scholar at the University of Oslo.
In the world's most authoritarian region, people often lack spaces where they can gather and express themselves.
"The football ground can be both a meeting place for young people and a place to publicly express what they think of those in power," says Tuastad.
"Supporters are, of course, passionately devoted to their team. However, things may suddenly happen in the stands that have nothing to do with what is happening on the pitch."
Prior to the Arab Spring
In Iran in the 1990s, football matches were the first places where people could hear chants of "Death to the mullahs". In Saudi Arabia in the mid-2010s, criticism was voiced against club owners belonging to the royal family.
Tuastad also sees clear links between football culture and the Arab Spring of 2010 and 2011. The protests, which took many by surprise, had been there for a long time - if only people had looked in the right places.
"Many experts were wrong when they believed the region was stable, and that the apparatus of repression was so strict that people did not dare resist. They had not paid close enough attention to what was happening in football grounds," Tuastad argues.
In Syria, there had been football-related unrest directed at the Assad regime long before the Arab Spring. The same was true in Libya, against Muammar al-Gaddafi. In Egypt, football supporters were on the front line of the demonstrations against Hosni Mubarak in 2011.
Ultras accustomed to fighting for territory
"In Egypt, football supporters - so-called ultras - together with the Muslim Brotherhood formed the front line among the demonstrators. Ultras were used as a defensive force because they were used to fighting the police," says Tuastad.
For ultras groups, the football ground was about controlling a territory in the stands, both against rival supporter groups and against the police. For the authorities, it could be useful to allow critical voices a safety valve, letting discontent be expressed within the controlled confines of a football stadium.
"Moreover, if unrest broke out at a football match, the police gained practice in dealing with demonstrators. It also highlighted the necessity of the security apparatus. Unrest had to be crushed; otherwise, there would be chaos in the country," says Tuastad.
But, as the Arab Spring showed, the authorities' tactics were a double-edged sword.
"You allow suppressed feelings to be expressed while at the same time controlling them. But you can lose control, so it is a dangerous game," says Tuastad.
No to tuna, yes to bombs
The politicised football culture has a long history. After the civil war in Jordan in 1970, in which the Palestine Liberation Organisation (PLO) was driven out of the country, more than half of the country's population was still Palestinian.
The UN organised football clubs in the refugee camps, and in 1975 one of them, Al-Wehdat, joined the Jordanian league.
"Wherever they played, Palestinians came to watch. After the civil war, expressing Palestinian identity was forbidden, but at the stadium they could wear the national colours - red, white, black and green. They could use symbols showing their affiliation," says Tuastad.
"From the stands, they chanted: 'We don't want tins of tuna, we want bombs.' Things that were completely unthinkable outside the stadium."
They also had to endure insults in return.
"Anti-Palestinian East Jordanian nationalists chanted, 'Divorce her'. What they meant was that the king should divorce his Palestinian queen - and that the state of Jordan should separate itself from the Palestinians. It was a taboo that you would not really hear expressed anywhere else," Tuastad explains.
Suppression of what is fun
In both Saudi Arabia and Iran, football has been viewed with suspicion by strict Islamic authorities.
"In Iran, football is linked to the struggle for freedom. Girls disguise themselves as boys because they are banned from entering football grounds," says Tuastad.
The best-known example is Sahar Khodayari, known as Blue Girl, who was arrested in 2019 when she tried to enter a match. She faced six months in prison, but chose to set herself on fire outside the courthouse. She died from her injuries a week later.
The incident forced a relaxation of the rules, allowing women to attend international matches - albeit only temporarily.
"Islamists did not like football because it diverted attention from religion. In Saudi Arabia, there were attempts to create separate rules for the game, and the gap between angry young people and the strict morality police was more visible on the football pitch than anywhere else," says Tuastad.
This has changed in recent years. Both Saudi Arabia and Qatar have instead embraced football. Qatar hosted the World Cup in 2022, and Saudi Arabia will host it in 2034. The latter is attracting major stars from European football to its own league.
"They have gone from trying to Islamise football to footballising Islam. Entertainment has been permitted, and it is allowed to enjoy football, so in a sense there is less cultural repression now," says Tuastad.
And for the authorities, this development has a clear advantage:
"That also means there is less to protest against."
