Palestinians are braving Israeli bombings and power outages to watch the world's biggest sporting event. But many fear the world has abandoned them.<\/b><\/p>\n
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In Gaza, the FIFA World Cup has long been more than a passing sporting event. For Palestinians, it is an occasion eagerly awaited every four years, offering rare moments of joy and a temporary refuge from the hardships of life under Israeli bombardment and siege. As the tournament draws to a close, it is clear that even three years of genocide have not extinguished Gazans\u2019 passion for the game.<\/p>\n
Despite widespread destruction of homes and neighborhoods, scarce power supplies, and unreliable internet connections, Palestinians in the Gaza Strip are struggling to find places where they can gather around a screen, follow the action, and dream a little \u2013 regardless of the fact that their own national team did not qualify for the tournament.<\/p>\n
One of the fans is a footballer himself. Abdallah Shaqfa, a 35-year-old refugee from the devastated southern city of Rafah, lives in a tent in the Al-Mawasi area of Khan Yunis. The Shabab Rafah goalkeeper has not been able to play since the war began in October 2023, when all organised sporting activities were suddenly halted.<\/p>\n
Like most of Gaza's population, he no longer has a home where he can sit with his family and watch World Cup matches on television, as he did in previous years. Now he tries to catch snippets of each match on his mobile phone whenever there is an internet connection, clinging to the fleeting moments that reconnect him with his old life.<\/p>\n
\u201eFootball is more than a game for us,\u201d he says. \u201eIt\u2019s a space where we can breathe and, if only for a few moments, forget about everything we\u2019re going through. Gaza may lose its stadiums and its homes, but no one can take away the people\u2019s passion for sport.\u201d<\/p>\n
Shaqfa, who previously played for the Palestinian national team and participated in the 2021 Arab Cup in Qatar, later received an offer from Markaz Shabab Balata in the occupied West Bank; he says the war deprived him not only of the opportunity to build his career, but also of any semblance of a normal life.<\/p>\n
\u201eWhen I see the crowds celebrating in the stadiums and people around the world enjoying the games, I feel like we\u2019re completely disconnected from the world,\u201d laments Shaqfa. \u201eThey\u2019re celebrating goals while we\u2019re counting the martyrs and hoping to make it through the night unscathed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Shaqfa\u2019s losses extend far beyond his playing career. On June 21 last year, his wife was killed by shrapnel from an Israeli airstrike on a nearby tent while visiting family; Shaqfa was left raising his two daughters alone. \u201eAfter my wife died, I tried to be both a father and a mother,\u201d he says. \u201eThe responsibility made coaching impossible, even though football was my whole life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another enthusiastic fan is Ne'ma Basal, 35, a mother of four who was displaced from Sheikh Radwan, west of Gaza City, to Deir Al-Balah. For Basal, football used to be an escape from the pressures of everyday life. She recalls how she used to make coffee and snacks before matches to make it a special celebration.<\/p>\n
Basal has always supported the French national team. \u201eMy husband wasn\u2019t a football fan before, but after our wedding he started watching the games,\u201d she says. \u201eThose evenings became a family ritual that brought us together. They were filled with laughter and excitement.\u201d<\/p>\n
But the war changed everything, says Basal, cooking outside over a fire. \u201eThere\u2019s no electricity or internet to watch the games. There\u2019s no time to even sit in front of a screen. Everything I know about the tournament comes from the news or what other people have told me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201eEven the simple things that once brought joy seem out of reach,\u201d he adds. \u201eFootball was something that allowed us to relax, but now there is no such thing as relaxation. We are only thinking about survival.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mohammed Barakat, a former rising star of the Palestinian beach soccer team, had his career cut short by an Israeli airstrike that killed him in Khan Younis on March 11, 2024. Known to fans as \u201eThe Lion,\u201d Barakat was the first player in Gaza to score 100 goals for a single club.<\/p>\n
His brother Yousef says every major tournament leaves a deep void in the family. \u201eWhen we see the players take to the field, we imagine Mohammed among them. When we mention the Palestinian national team, we feel not only pride but also sadness because one of the players who once wore their jersey is no longer with us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mustafa Siyam, secretary-general of the Palestinian Sports Journalists Association, says sports venues and athletes are deliberate targets. \u201eIsraeli forces have killed 1,015 Palestinian athletes, including 560 footballers and coaches,\u201d he explains.<\/p>\n
According to the Palestinian Olympic Committee and the Palestinian Football Association, Israel has destroyed nearly 90 percent of Gaza\u2019s sports infrastructure, some 265 facilities in total, some of which are now serving as temporary shelters for displaced families. Sports federations are trying to hold Israel accountable. \u201eThe federation has contacted international bodies to have Israel expelled from FIFA,\u201d says Siyam. \u201eBut this request has been consistently rejected or postponed, while the organization has acted swiftly to ban Russian teams over the war in Ukraine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Raed Afaneh, 36, walks around the classrooms of a Gaza school with his laptop, looking for an internet signal so he can watch the Egypt-Australia match with friends. \u201eI don\u2019t dare go to a cafe, the Israeli drones are constantly circling above us, they could strike at any time,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
Despite the simple circumstances, dozens of people gathered around Afaneh\u2019s laptop. \u201eThe atmosphere was electric,\u201d he says. When Egypt coach Hossam Hassan dedicated the victory to the people of Palestine, the room erupted in joy.<\/p>\n
\u201eThe best thing for everyone was that they dedicated the victory to the Palestinians,\u201d says Afaneh. \u201eI felt like those words lifted the spirits of everyone present. This gesture had a profound impact on us, giving us a moment of joy and a sense that our cause was still alive in the hearts of others.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kifah Al-Fakhouri, a 30-year-old fan, was sitting in a cafe with friends on June 30 last year when an Israeli missile hit the place. Four of her friends were killed, she survived but had to have her leg amputated. Despite her personal loss, she joined a soccer team of female amputees.<\/p>\n
\u201eI found another form of resistance in football,\u201d he says. \u201eWith every training session I do, I feel like I\u2019m winning against the war, if only a little bit. What the war took from me will not stop me from moving forward and achieving my dream.\u201d<\/p>\n
Although Al-Fakhouri still watches the games today, the experience is not the same. \u201eEvery time I see the crowds celebrating in the stadiums, I feel a deep pain. I am happy for the game that I love, but at the same time I remember that I am watching this with one foot, from a city that is still at war.\u201d<\/p>\n
Since the so-called \u201eceasefire\u201d came into effect last October, some war-ravaged caf\u00e9 owners have opened modest alternatives in tents, in camps for displaced people or on the beach. While any screening is a logistical challenge due to power shortages and unreliable internet, these options give fans the chance to experience the atmosphere of the World Cup and share moments of shared joy.<\/p>\n