Why do Iranian athletes defect?
Why do Iranian athletes defect?
Analysis by Don Riddell, CNNThu, March 12, 2026 at 4:00 AM UTC
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Tony Burke, Australia's minister for home affairs, poses with five members of the Iranian women's soccer team who were granted asylum in Australia. - Australia Ministry of Home Affairs/AP
News that some members of the Iranian soccer team have defected after the Lionesses were knocked out of the Women’s Asian Cup in Australia this week should come as no surprise.
They found themselves to be the public face of their country on the world stage as Iran’s brutal governing regime was fighting for its very existence against a devastating aerial bombardment by the combined militaries of the US and Israel.
At first, the players seemed defiant, refusing to sing their national anthem; then as the tournament progressed and they were branded as “wartime traitors” by a conservative commentator in Iran, they appeared increasingly subdued. By the end, they were singing the anthem again, reportedly after threats to their families.
Anyone who has defied the regime before has risked their life to do so, and – despite being at the mercy of the most ferocious military machine on the face of the planet – the regime might yet survive.
The players’ predicament has been described in a few paragraphs in some news reports, but it may be some time before we learn what exactly has happened to them and how they are doing; for obvious reasons, they are unlikely to be giving interviews. Meanwhile, it is hard to imagine the complexity of emotions these young women are living through, and the uncertain future that lies ahead for themselves and their families.
However, dozens of Iranian athletes have trodden a similar path in recent years, and their testimony sheds light on the excruciating life choices that can be suddenly thrust upon them.
In 2021, Iranian powerlifter Amir Assadollahzadeh was competing for his country at the IPF World Championships in Norway, but before the end of the competition, he was running for his life.
Assadollahzadeh had been facing intense pressure from team officials to wear a T-shirt bearing the face of Qasem Soleimani, who, at the time he was killed by a US airstrike in 2020, was the most senior figure in the Iranian military.
“I refused to wear the shirt, and I was confronted with threats,” he explained to CNN Sports.
Then he said he was told, “If you refuse to wear the shirt, upon your return to Iran, both you and your family will face problems. You will be treated like someone who is against the regime and someone who has refused to work with us. Your life may also be in danger.”
Assadollahzadeh lay awake in his bed, wrestling with the enormity of the decision he was now compelled to make. At 3:30 a.m., he slipped out of the team hotel and ran into the Norwegian night. His journey from the coastal town of Stavanger to Oslo didn’t go as he’d planned, traveling at first by taxi and then a bus. He felt vulnerable and paranoid and he was so concerned that he was being tracked by his phone that he threw it into the water during one of the stops.
Eventually, he arrived in the capital city, but – despite having put nearly 200 miles between himself and his team – he was horrified to see one of his fellow athletes at the train station in Oslo. Fearing that he was being pursued, Assadollahzadeh took flight again, ultimately seeking asylum as a refugee in Norway.
Assadollahzadeh said that if he had been forced to return to Iran, “I am 100% sure that I will face jail, torture and maybe even worse than that – execution.”
An intensely personal decision
Over the last 20 or so years, many Iranian athletes have had reasons to defect, but they’re not always able to follow through on their conviction. They’re running from an oppressive regime, which routinely meddles in sports and uses the athletes as tools to further its religious and ideological agenda.
Many face intimidation. They are beaten and tortured. For every individual, the calculus is extremely personal – and they each have their own breaking point.
Members of the Iranian team who were granted asylum in Australia pose for a photo together. - From Tony Burke, Australian home affairs minister
They must weigh up the risk of being caught on the run and the cost of what they must inevitably leave behind. For many, it’s something they will ponder for years before finally finding the courage to act, motivated either because their lives have become intolerable or because the moment has simply caught up to them, and there is no longer a choice.
When traveling abroad, Iranian sports teams are typically accompanied by “harasats,” security or protection officers designated to monitor the behavior of the athletes and staff, enforce political and ideological guidelines and prevent defection and asylum attempts.
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Some athletes are also forced to pledge property or money before they are allowed to travel, meaning that their families will be financially penalized if they choose not to return.
Iranian athletes sometimes have a code of conduct with each other: They will only run when they have no other option because they know that the teammates they leave behind will be suspected of aiding and abetting their escape.
In 2021, one athlete told CNN Sports that he had weighed up seven different escape attempts over six years before he finally made it out. His first attempt was aborted after a phone call with his worried mother, and the second and third attempts were derailed because the team officials suspected his intentions and dropped him from the squad.
His fourth attempt was foiled when he was arrested at the airport and detained and tortured for several months. Then on another occasion his teammates had a change of heart and decided not to defect along with him, forcing him to reconsider. Two further attempts had to be abandoned because of the complexities of traveling on a forged passport.
He finally made it out when his life in Iran became untenable and he knew that he was about to be permanently cut from the team. He gathered his teammates outside the hotel in Germany, said his goodbyes on the sidewalk and walked away to a very uncertain future.
‘Everything is political’
While the women’s soccer team of 2026 was cheered on by many for refusing to sing the national anthem, they will almost certainly have been facing intense pressure from the regime back home.
Members of the Iranian national team salute during the national anthem before Sunday's match against the Philippines in Gold Coast, Australia. - Albert Perez/Getty Images
In 2022, former wrestler Sardar Pashaei explained how Iran’s national soccer teams are so polarizing. Speaking of the men’s team heading to the World Cup in Qatar, he said to CNN Sports, “Many people do not consider this team as their national team. They consider it to be the Islamic Republic team. It represents the government, not the people. And a lot of athletes think the same.”
He added that players who are sympathetic to the regime try to argue that sport and politics should be kept at arm’s length, noting, “But we know that in Iran, everything is political.”
Shiva Amini once played for the women’s team in Iran; she was regarded as the most technically gifted player in the country at the time, making it to the semifinals of the 2009 Indoor Asian Games in Vietnam. But her life unraveled when she was pictured on social media in 2017, playing in Switzerland without the hijab headscarf deemed mandatory by the regime.
It wasn’t long before she was receiving text messages like: “We will cut your head off and send a picture of it to your family.”
Amini soon realized that she could never return, and she says the stress of her situation took a toll on her mental health. However, she subsequently realized that perhaps there was never really a future for her as a soccer player in Iran. In 2021, she told CNN Sports that the women’s team was made to feel as if they were simply tokens.
“I started to realize that I am in a society that they fundamentally do not want a girl to advance,” she said, outlining the experience of sharing a national training camp with the men’s team and being told to remain on the sidelines.
“I asked the head of the federation why you aren’t giving us the facilities and he responded by saying, ‘The team only exists so that FIFA wouldn’t eliminate the boys team according to their regulations.’ I realized that us girls had no value. It was an insult and a humiliation.”
Now, another group of female Iranian soccer players are realizing that they, too, can no longer return home. While they have been welcomed by the Australian government with humanitarian visas, they know there will be friends and family that they might never see again.
As Assadollahzadeh recalled to CNN when discussing the details of his defection, one of the most searing memories was the phone call to his father, when he explained his situation.
He said, “It was the first time in my life that I saw the tears of my dad.”
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Source: “AOL Sports”
