Iraq's game changer: Football pitches become political arenas

Shafaq News

26-06-2025

Shafaq News - Baghdad
When the sun sets over Baghdad's al-Zaafaraniyah district, floodlights flicker on above a small football pitch. Around the iron fence, dozens of young men gather to watch the game unfold.
Inside, players in matching kits weave past defenders in a fast-paced match — but tonight, the field is lined with more than just goalposts. Banners of smiling political candidates, each paired with printed campaign promises, decorate the sidelines.
In one corner, a middle-aged man distributes bottled water and jerseys to the participating teams. There are no cameras, no loudspeakers — just a football game quietly transformed into a site of political outreach.
In recent years, Baghdad's five-a-side pitches — long considered safe havens for working-class youth — have drawn growing attention from politicians intent on securing support from the ground up. With no clear oversight, these modest venues have evolved into informal platforms for electoral influence, banking on Iraqis' deep love for football ahead of election cycles.
Interviews conducted with field contractors, players, and local observers reveal a trend that has taken shape well before ballots are cast. Politicians are embedding themselves deep in the social lives of youth, a tactic that reflects the increasingly porous boundary between sport and political messaging in post-2003 Iraq. In this climate, even the artificial turf on the outskirts of Baghdad has become part of a much larger campaign map.
From al-Amil to Sadr City, similar patterns emerge: candidates renting pitches, rebranding venues with campaign slogans, local teams seeking sponsorships in exchange for kits and balls, and players finding themselves caught between the joy of sport and the pull of low-intensity campaigning.
Scoring Votes on the Cheap
Political campaigns across Iraq are increasingly relying on unconventional methods to attract youth voters, many of whom remain disillusioned with the formal political process. Candidates frequently fund small-scale neighborhood events, sponsor community tournaments, and use popular gathering places like coffee shops and football pitches to build visibility.
In addition to sports sponsorship, other common outreach efforts include installing free Wi-Fi routers, hosting job training sessions, or collaborating with social media influencers to circulate campaign messages.
'Championships like these cost little but earn trust,' explained Ali Abbas, a political consultant involved in past parliamentary campaigns. 'Compared to a media campaign, it's cheaper and feels more personal.'
According to Iraq's latest census, nearly 60% of the country's population is 15-64 years old. In Baghdad alone, youth between the ages of 15 and 29 make up over 30% of the city's total population — a figure that climbs in low-income districts like al-Zaafaraniyah and Sadr City, making them particularly attractive ground for outreach.
Yet in the 2021 parliamentary election, fewer than 20% of eligible voters under 30 turned out to vote. A 2023 poll conducted by the Al-Bayan Center found that 62% of young Iraqis had no confidence in political parties, and 54% believed their vote would have no impact on the direction of the country.
Against this backdrop, politicians are turning to community-centered strategies. While a standard advertising campaign on national television can cost upwards of 100 million dinars ($75,000), candidates can sponsor dozens of neighborhood tournaments for under 10 million dinars total — reaching large, local audiences at a fraction of the price.
The politicization of sport in Iraq is not new. Under Saddam Hussein, sports institutions — including the National Olympic Committee — were overseen by Uday Hussein, who used them to exert control and build prestige. But the contemporary shift is more decentralized, rooted in neighborhood-level visibility and informal engagement rather than top-down coercion.
In the post-Saddam 2021 elections, for example, one parliamentary candidate reportedly sponsored a two-week tournament featuring 16 teams, each wearing jerseys branded with his campaign number. No speeches were made, but flyers and photographs were widely circulated on social media.
Everyone's Game
In the absence of modern sporting infrastructure, Iraq's five-a-side pitches have become essential outlets for thousands of young players.
'These pitches offer a safer, more organized environment away from dirt lots and random play,' explained Jaafar al-Sheikh, head of Iraq's Mini-Football (Socca) Federation. He acknowledged that their rapid growth — especially in working-class neighborhoods — has made them appealing spaces for various political actors.
Pitches vary in format — five, six, seven or even eight-a-side — but the five-a-side fields are the most common. Renting one costs between 20,000 and 50,000 Iraqi dinars ($15–$38) per hour, al-Sheikh noted, making them accessible for amateur teams and ideal for candidates seeking efficient ways to connect with wide audiences.
Football's popularity is no coincidence. According to a 2024 report by the Ministry of Youth and Sports, more than three million Iraqis regularly participate in informal or amateur football leagues, the vast majority of them under the age of 30. The game's widespread reach makes it a potent and low-cost platform for influence.
Fields across Baghdad are in near-constant use. 'Matches start around 5:00 p.m. and continue past midnight,' explained Abdulwahid Ali, who manages a pitch in al-Salihiya. 'We host more than seven teams each night.'
During election season, that dynamic often shifts. 'Candidates approach us to sponsor tournaments or organize symbolic cups. We don't object — there are no restrictions from the federation, and we rent the pitch based on agreements.'
Abd Ali Mouhan, a contractor managing a pitch in Fourth al-Shurta, confirmed that no formal restrictions exist. 'I've rented the field to politicians during election periods. We only provide the venue. What happens inside is their business.'
Local observers point to this absence of regulation as a major reason these fields have become a fertile ground for political activity. There are no clear standards on what content can be displayed or what kind of messaging is permitted during such events.
While civil society groups have called for legislation to prevent the politicization of public spaces, a 2023 draft bill aimed at regulating informal campaigning has stalled in parliament.
Young and Vulnerable
With limited job prospects and few avenues for professional development, many young Iraqis are especially responsive to community-level gestures — even if they
originate from political motives.
'A small local tournament may cost only around 1.5 million dinars ($1,150),' explained grassroots player Hassan Mustafa from al-Zaafaraniyah. 'Compared to hotel-based rallies, this is far more effective in reaching young voters.'
Mustafa reflected on the real financial pressures facing players. 'We fund everything ourselves. So when a candidate gives us jerseys or backs a tournament, it's hard not to appreciate it. That's what makes youth such a direct and easy target on these fields.'
For 22-year-old goalkeeper Omar Khalil, who plays on a dirt pitch in New Baghdad, the offers were tempting but short-lived. 'They gave us everything for the tournament — balls, water, even transport,' he recalled. 'But once it was over, no one came back. We never saw the candidate again.'
These types of engagements become more frequent as elections approach. In areas like al-Amil, al-Jihad, and Fifth al-Shurta, eyewitnesses have reported that candidates openly attach their names to pitches they rent and organize informal gatherings that function as off-record rallies — often drawing large numbers of young spectators and players.
With no legal barrier separating sports from politics, these small urban pitches remain attractive arenas for low-cost campaigning. At the same time, young players face a dilemma: maintain a distance from politics or accept assistance in the absence of any institutional alternatives.
Still, many insist on preserving the spirit of the game. 'We want to keep politics away from our fields,' said Hassan Mustafa. 'We play to relax, not to become tools in someone's campaign.'