Iraq walks into this World Cup carrying forty years. The last time Asoud al-Rafidain — the Lions of Mesopotamia — were in a World Cup, it was 1986, Mexico, Saddam's Iraq, a squad that played under political pressure most of us can't imagine. Everything that has happened to the country since then is in the return. The war, the 2007 Asian Cup title that an exiled team won while training in Amman, the years of cancelled home matches, the generation of players raised in Baghdad and Basra and Erbil and the diaspora of Dearborn and Manchester and Malmö. All of it collides in one roster.
They qualified the hard way. Fifth in AFC Round 3, a scrape through Round 4, then a playoff gauntlet that ended against Bolivia in Monterrey on March 31, 2-1, Ali Al-Hamadi and Aymen Hussein scoring either side of a Bolivian equalizer. Coach Graham Arnold — the former Socceroos boss — had been in the job six months. The celebration in Baghdad didn't stop for three days.
Group I with France, Norway, and Senegal is the group of death. Iraq will be heavy underdogs in all three matches. They will also be one of the most meaningful stories of the entire tournament. Forty years is a long time to wait. They plan to enjoy the summer.
The striker who scored the goal that ended the 40-year wait — a close-range finish against Bolivia in Monterrey on March 31, set up by substitute Marko Farji one minute after coming on. Plays his club football in the Qatari league at Al-Rayyan, scores at a steady clip for country, and has the kind of heavy, physical style that survives on a pitch where smaller players get bullied. He's 29 and has been Iraq's starting No. 9 for most of the qualifying cycle.
AFC Bournemouth's 23-year-old forward, born in Baghdad and raised in England after his family fled the war. Came up through the English lower leagues at AFC Wimbledon and Ipswich before earning a Premier League move. Scored the opening goal against Bolivia — a headed finish off a corner inside ten minutes — the kind of moment a whole diaspora carries forward. His story is the modern Iraqi football story: lost at home, found abroad, returned to wear the shirt.
The Manchester-born midfielder whose father is Pakistani and mother is Iraqi — United's first player of South Asian heritage to appear in a matchday squad. He chose Iraq at international level, moved to Utrecht in 2023 for regular Eredivisie minutes, and has quietly become one of the most technically gifted players in the squad. Deep-lying, press-resistant, comfortable in tight spaces. His name alone — a nod to Zidane, the player his father idolized — tells you everything about where this generation came from.
Masgouf is the whole argument for Baghdad cuisine in one plate. A whole Tigris-style carp — traditionally split down the back, rubbed with salt, tamarind, and turmeric — staked upright around a wood fire and smoked slow until the skin is charred and the flesh is almost custardy. Served with pickled vegetables, fresh-bread torshi, and sumac-dusted onions. Beside it: kubba (bulgur shells stuffed with spiced lamb and pine nuts), dolma rolled in grape leaves, Iraqi-style biryani heavy on raisins and almonds, and endless cups of chai with cardamom and a sugar cube between the teeth.
Bilad Bakery & Restaurant near Richardson's Chinatown — the closest thing DFW has to a real Baghdad-neighborhood spot. Open-fire kebabs, proper samoon bread baked on the premises, and an owner who will tell you about the Tigris if you ask. For a larger spread, Al Baghdady Restaurant & Bakery in Dallas runs a full charcoal grill and a pastry case stacked with kleicha (the date-filled cookie Iraqis eat at every holiday). Both are small family operations — call ahead on match days.
A soundtrack for the matches, the pregame, and the afterparty.
Iraqi football fandom carries something most national teams don't — a genuine sense that the team is the country's good news. DFW's Iraqi community is smaller than the Iranian one but deeply rooted, concentrated around Richardson and northeast Dallas, with a generation of post-2003 arrivals who grew up on the legend of the 2007 Asian Cup team. Watch parties are loud, multi-generational, and end with cardamom chai rather than beer. When Iraq scores you will hear zaghareet — the ululating trilled cheer — and somebody's mother will cry. The 40-year wait means that for many fans in this room, their entire adult life has happened between World Cups. Sit quietly. This one matters.
Iraq's last and only other World Cup was 1986 in Mexico — before most of the current squad's parents had met. They clinched the 2026 ticket on March 31 against Bolivia in Monterrey, 2-1, on an Aymen Hussein goal, in a playoff that came down to the last inter-confederation slot available.