Sometimes it is enough for a political scandal to remain silent.
This is exactly what happened at the Women's Asian Cup in Australia, when they are national team players Iran stood during intonation anthem their country, but they didn't sing it. There were no banners, no protests, no big gestures. Just silence. As reported by international media, the players have already been labeled as "war traitors" in Iranian state media, raising serious concerns about their safety upon returning to the country.
At first glance, it is difficult to understand the scale of such a reaction. What did that group of female athletes actually do? Nothing spectacular. They just didn't sing.
But it is precisely in this simplicity that the act's political power lies.
Silence as a political act
Authoritarian regimes have one structural need: mere obedience is never enough for them. They also require loyalty — and loyalty that must be publicly affirmed. That is why anthems, ceremonies and national rituals are so important: they are a way for the state to produce an image of a community in which everyone speaks with the same voice, they confirm the symbolic path that everyone should follow.
The anthem is therefore much more than a song. It is the moment in which the state checks whether the body occupies the place intended for it, whether it stands properly, whether the voice participates in the collective chorus, whether the subject affirms the community as the government requires. Authoritarian power does not function only through prohibitions and punishments. It also works through rituals. When everyone is singing, the community seems unquestionable. The problem arises when someone chooses to remain silent.
Silence then becomes a political act.
It reveals an important fact: belonging is not something that can be produced by command. Community is not a natural fact but a political construction that must be constantly repeated and confirmed. The moment someone refuses to participate in that repetition, the crack becomes visible.
Photo: Dave Hunt/AAPImage via APDuel at the Asian Cup between the national teams of Iran and Australia
Women movers
In recent years, we have seen another interesting political fact: many of these cracks are opened by women.
Let's remember that in Iran four years ago it was Mahse Amini who took off her hijab in the street and started huge solidarity protests to which the regime responded brutally. In Belarus, during the protests against Alexander Lukashenko's regime, it was women who organized mass marches, often carrying flowers as a sign of nonviolent resistance. In Afghanistan, despite brutal repression by the Taliban, small groups of women continue to protest and demand the right to education. In Russia, among the first public voices against the war were feminist initiatives initiated by women.
Similar gestures appear in democratic societies, where female athletes sometimes use symbolic moments to express a political stance. When the U.S. women's ice hockey team won Olympic gold in 2026, the players publicly refused to participate in the traditional reception with President Donald Trump at the White House, citing disagreement with his policies. There were no demonstrations or spectacular protests — just a decision not to show up.
In all these cases, the same pattern emerges: women often take political risks that many others are no longer willing to take.
One reason is obvious. In many societies, women already live under constant political surveillance—over the body, reproduction, movement, and work. When everyday life is already politically regulated, the border between the private and the political becomes porous. Resistance then often appears in everyday gestures.
Photo: Dave Hunt/AAPImage via APAlready declared "traitors" in their own country
Disobedience of women's bodies
But there is a deeper reason. Nationalism almost always implies a certain regime of control over women's bodies. Women are presented as symbols of the culture and moral order of the community, so their behavior and appearance become the way in which the state tries to materialize its own identity.
That is why the disobedience of women's bodies often takes on a special political weight.
The silence of Iranian soccer players is exactly one such gesture.
They did not make a political speech. They had no banners. They just stood there and were silent. But this very silence exposes a key weakness of all authoritarian politics: it depends on everyone participating in the ritual.
When someone refuses to play their part, even for a moment, it calls into question the authoritarian order.
In a world where patriotism is increasingly measured by spectacle—flags, songs, and ceremonies of loyalty—perhaps the most subversive political act is precisely the simplest: refusing to participate in what is expected of you.
Iranian soccer players have shown how powerful such an act can be. In a world where there is an absolute demand for activity, visibility and getting a voice, they have shown that sometimes only one thing is enough for political resistance: silence.
