Monday, February 24, 2014

Taking It Like A Fan

Mark Perryman of PhilosophyFootball sketches out a framework for understanding 21st century football fan culture

The contact between football and politics is inevitable, as football is part of society. Football itself is socially organised, institutions govern it, values are invested in it. The forms of organisation have a social base, values are contested as well as accepted.

So far... so familiar, or at least it should be.

But there are deeper reasons for the neglect of football as an aspect of social life. Just as there is a division between mental and physical labour, so there is a division between mental and physical activity. English cultural life is marked by a very distinct division between two types of person - the sporting philistine and the non-sporting aesthete. These are two archetypal products of the English public school and university education.

Football is thus marked down as a natural, taken-for-granted activity.

Football instead needs to be considered as it shapes, and is shaped by, race, gender, national identity and class.

Traditionally the sports media have reported football with great professional skill but often discuss it with a crass lack of seriousness. Newspapers relay results efficiently and delight in trivial controversy, but are timid and uninformative about the organisation of football. TV and radio football coverage has largely failed to produce informative football journalism. This however started to change with the post -1990s fanzine generation of football writers.

Football must be forced out of its often self-imposed separation. Football is not separate from social life as a whole, nor is it separate from cultural life. It is not a natural activity which cannot be changed and need not be discussed. In part, this is what the post Nick Hornby Fever Pitch (published in 1992 year one of the Premiership) new football writing, overtly or covertly, academically or popularly, set out to achieve.

The new football writing revealed a deeper awareness of issues of race, gender, sexuality and power. Though there is often very little overview : no sense of the historical evolution of football. Instead there is a welcome stress on football as pleasure, football as play, football as a necessary part of many contemporary lives.

To understand fan culture properly we have to appreciate the reasons why football gives so much pleasure to so many, and despite the pain it also provides keep coming back, season after season. What is it about football that gives us pleasure, and how, if at all, can we account for it?

The football crowd is expressive but inarticulate, using a range of communicative sounds beyond words to convey the excitement and frustration of the match. It is difficult to attribute definite meanings to these inarticulate vocalisations. Yet the football crowd is an important arena for the display of human emotion.

What does football offer us?  A sanctuary, a sense of place, a community, a language, for some.... an addiction? In his book Football Delirium Chris Oakley provides this by way of an explanation :

“Football allows us, as communion, as community, to share a whole catalogue of intensely intoxicating sense-impressions in-mixed with heightened emotions. It is great fun and yet at times it will bring about immense depression, aguish and despair. Catastrophic dismay and baely containable grief haunt the terrain.”

A sense of place is often crucial to the behaviour of the football  crowd. The football stadium allows for the congregation of large numbers of people. In an increasingly fragmented public sphere such large-scale meeting places can fulfil a vital social function.

Discussions of the body and its desires are approached, if only obliquely, through the discourses of football more than anywhere else. The workings of the body, its successes and failures as a machine, are debated in the pages of the sports newspapers on the television, online, and in casual discussion.

Football contains the elements of confrontation, crisis and resolution which are necessary to drama. In football there is the macro-drama of the season, which includes within it the mini-dramas of individual matches, and micro-dramas of confrontations between players, or officials, and sometimes both.

On occasion the drama of football becomes truly public, as crossover is achieved from the back pages to the front pages of newspapers, and for a time displaces the routine stories of political and economic life.

Much of this is more or less specific to football. It explains why it emerged as a mass spectator sport in the early twentieth century and a century later remains in that sense at least more or less unchanged. Its core aesthetic however is the same as any other sport, the value of unpredictability and the unfamiliar, if we knew for certain before kick-off who would win and how why would anyone turn up however good the football on offer?

Mark Perryman is the co-founder of the self-styled ‘sporting outfitters of intellectual distinction’ aka Philosophy Football

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Women, Don't Do Sport!

Conservative MP Helen Grant, speaking to the Telegraph in this interview, has made a unique contribution to the ongoing debate about the number of women participating in sport. 
“For example some girls may well not like doing very traditional hockey, tennis or athletics, others might, so for those who don't want to, how about considering maybe gym, ballet, cheerleading? It's not just schools, it's clubs, it's being innovative. Actually looking at our women and our girls and asking, what do they want? "You don't have to feel unfeminine … There are some wonderful sports which you can do and perform to a very high level and I think those participating look absolutely radiant and very feminine such as ballet, gymnastics, cheerleading and even roller-skating."
Oh, where do I begin? Well, for starters, it’s hardly the most intelligent thing for the Minister of Sport, Equality and Tourism to be saying and further proof, as if it were needed, that Tories shouldn’t do talking out loud. According to Grant, women are so concerned at staying “absolutely radiant” that they’re put off sport altogether. Not to worry though, because there are plenty of inherently feminine ways to get your weekly dose of physical exercise. As gender stereotypes go this is Mr Cholmondley-Warner territory. She may as well have said, “Women! Are you worried that running around will ruin your hair and make-up? Why not try a game of ludo or cribbage? Or if you’re feeling particularly energetic, there’s always hopscotch!” To be honest, I’d expect better from someone who was once a junior judo champion, even if she is a Tory.

Women’s relative lack of participation in grassroots sport is a real issue. The Women’s Sport and Fitness Foundation (WSFF) estimate that, between 2007 and 2011, 2.2 million fewer women than men were participating in at least one session of sport or physical activity each week. The government now claims that this figure has fallen to 1.8 million; still a massive disparity. Even the much vaunted Olympic legacy has proven to be nothing more than a myth, just as many had predicted.

A similar pattern emerges among girls at school. According to the latest research carried out by the Institute of Sport at Loughborough University for the WSFF, only 12% of 14 year old girls are reaching the standard level of fitness. Large numbers of those interviewed reported negative experiences of sport at school and complained that there were too few role models. Worryingly, 48% believed that sweating was “not feminine”. It was in this context that Grant made her statements about ballet and roller-skating.

There are two things that strike me about this. Firstly, what a sad indictment of society! We live in a world which has made 12-year-old girls so worried about their body image that they would choose to abstain from playing games. Secondly, does Grant really know nothing of the sports that she recommends? If girls really are put off sport by the likelihood of sweatiness, is an hour of intense cardio, Zumba-style, really the answer? Does she really believe than gymnasts, cheerleaders and dancers don’t sweat?

The problem is that the evidence is slightly more complex than Helen Grant is prepared to admit, and far removed from the ‘dainty girlies eschew masculine competitive sports’ narrative. While it is true that non-competitive physical activities such as keep-fit, swimming and cycling remain most popular, women are increasingly playing what might be considered traditionally ‘male’ sports. Women’s football was the growth sport in the first decade of the twenty-first century, women’s rugby continues to grow in popularity, and the fastest growing sport for women post-London 2012 is boxing. Perhaps Grant should go chat with Nicola Adams.

Of course no one is against women choosing from the widest possible range of sports and physical activities. But by couching her intervention in terms of “choice”, Helen Grant claims to be speaking on behalf of women, while neatly sidestepping the structural problems that prevent them from participating in sport. Women still bear responsibility for childcare and housework but are now expected to hold down a job as well. The macho image of sport may deter some women, but how many more are precluded from participation by the demands of contemporary life and a lack of time and energy?

It isn’t helped by a sports industry so dominated by male athletes and sports stars. At the elite level women’s sports have always placed a distant second behind men’s. It is such a truism that Grant herself is forced to acknowledge the fact:  “I think we need to get to the point where women’s sport is looked on and regarded as equal to the men’s game. When we get to that point that’s when we get the balanced coverage.” Yet the likelihood of this is minimal. Given a straight choice between advancing the cause of equality and raking in advertising revenue it’s obvious that Sky and BT are not going to be at the forefront of a fourth wave of feminism.

Also, let nobody forget the role of successive governments – including the one in which Grant serves - in limiting the chances of sporting participation for women and men alike. The two most popular forms of exercise amongst women are keep-fit and swimming yet both have become victims of austerity. The BBC reports that: “annual prices have gone up by £100 at two-thirds of public gyms since 2010, a survey of 95 English councils found.” With so many baths being sacrificed in the name of budget cuts, Olympic gold medallist Rebecca Adlington has asked, why are we closing so many swimming pools? And this coalition sold off playing fields in the middle of an Olympics that were meant to inspire a generation. The provision of space and equipment for physical exercise and sport lies ever more with the private sector, a result of a neo-liberal attack on the ways in which we are allowed to use our own bodies.

Perhaps, if Grant were prepared to challenge rather than reinforce the stereotypes, to break down the ridiculous divisions between men’s sport and women’s sport, to establish affordable opportunities for anyone to enjoy physical culture, then she could speak with credibility. Until then she'll continue to sound as though she's cribbed her views from the 1950s..

Monday, February 17, 2014

The Sochi Olympics: From Boycotts to Protest

For a brief moment, during his farcical interview with the BBC, you could read Anatoly Pakhomov’s thought processes in his otherwise stony expression. Having denied that any gay people lived in the city, the mayor of Sochi was confronted with an incredulous interviewer who retorted that he had visited a gay club the previous night. For a fleeting second Pakhomov’s eyes glazed over. “Can I deny this?” he seemed to ask himself. “Is he bluffing? Can I call this journalist a liar? What happens if I say the wrong thing now? Why was he at a gay club? Is he gay?!” And just for a second a part of me hoped he was also thinking, "Did he see me there?!"

That gay people should have become invisible to the likes of Pakhomov is hardly surprising. It is the intended consequence of draconian legislation that seeks to push the LGBTQ community to the margins of Russian society. In June 2013 a nationwide law was passed by the Russian Duma banning the distribution of "propaganda of non-traditional sexual relations" among minors. It’s difficult to know what part of this is most disgusting: the conflation of homosexuality and paedophilia, the oblique phraseology designed to cloak bigotry in plausible deniability, or the fact that the legislation’s remit is so vague as to outlaw anything from a newspaper article making passing reference to homosexuality to a Gay Pride march.

Understandably the Russian LGBTQ community is outraged at being criminalised in such a way. In defiance of the laws and in the face of state repression and often horrific brutality, supporters of gay rights have continued to march and rally across the country. On those occasions when they have not been subject to mass arrests they have been viciously attacked by Christian zealots or members of Russia’s growing neo-Nazi movement, emboldened by each new governments pronouncement, as a complicit police force stand idly by in the background. Along with the formation of militant anti-gay groups such as Parents of Russia and Occupy Paedophilia, these are extreme manifestations of a tide of homophobic feeling running through the country. The Moscow Times has reported that:
“Eighty-five percent of respondents surveyed by the Levada Center said they opposed same-sex marriages in Russia and 87 percent said they did not want gay parades to take place in Russian cities, Interfax reported. The survey showed that 23 percent of respondents felt that gay people should be left alone, while 27 percent said they needed psychological help. Another 16 percent suggested that gays be isolated from society, 22 percent insisted on compulsory treatment, and 5 percent said homosexuals should be ‘liquidated’."
It would be a grave mistake, however, to reason that Putin and his government are passively reflecting public opinion. Despite his straw-grasping claim to be on “friendly terms” with some gay people, Putin has talked of the need for Russia to “cleanse” itself of homosexuals and he has been central to the deliberate demonization of an entire section of Russian society. Some commentators have characterised this attack as a classic example of the scapegoating of a minority group. However this would require the Russian LGBTQ community to be the scapegoat for something, such as the way in which Cameron, Clegg and Osborne attempt to lay the blame for the economic crisis on immigrants/'scroungers'/public sector workers. Yet Russia’s economy has grown tenfold since Putin first came to power, it emerged relatively unscathed from the financial crash and the World Bank considers that the likelihood for economic growth in 2014 “remains moderately positive”. Unemployment in Russia, despite some fluctuations, is lower than it was two years ago and while Putin’s 61% approval rating is the lowest it has been since 2000 it is still a figure most world leaders can only dream of reaching. It is certainly true that the inequality of Russian society continues to grow apace – the number of billionaires in the country gone from zero at the turn of the century to more than a hundred today – yet homosexuals are more a distraction from, rather than a scapegoat for, the disparity between rich and poor.

What we’re witnessing therefore is not so much scapegoating as outright persecution; a process driven (I would tentatively suggest) by two political imperatives. Firstly, Putin “is trying to build a strong national identity based around ‘traditional values’” to secure the continuation of his premiership. Secondly, he has identified the public demonstrations of gay pride as a residual element of the pro-democracy protest movement that exploded three years ago. Michael Idov has written:
“The war on gay people is one part of a broader crackdown on civil rights that got out of control. Ever since a wave of mass protests in December 2011 shook the Kremlin, the Russian Duma has passed a staggering number of restrictive laws: new regulations that make it harder for people to congregate freely; a rule that requires all NGOs that receive funding from abroad to label themselves as “foreign agents”; a stultifying ban on US adoptions of Russian children; and a suite of decency and anti-piracy bills that makes it easier to shutter inconvenient websites.”
None of this is to suggest that Putin doesn’t have a homophobic bone in his body. Indeed, if you can judge a man by the company he keeps then he’s banged to rights. One close ally, Patriarch Kirill, the leader of the Russian Orthodox Church, has dubbed Putin’s lengthy stay in office a “miracle of God”. He’s also on record as saying that the idea of gay marriage is a “very dangerous sign of the Apocalypse”. A deeply reactionary, ultra-conservative Christianity has played a central role in laying the ideological foundations of the Putin years from the very start.

Although the Winter Games may not carry the same cache as their Summer counterparts, the Sochi Olympics have focussed the attention of the international community on the situation inside Russia. Much to Vladimir Putin’s chagrin, no doubt. Governments are attracted to the staging of mega-events, such as the Olympics or football World Cup, by the lure of what Robert K Barney has referred to as the ‘P’ triad: publicity, profit and pride. It is a unique chance to showcase a nation, attract corporate investment and either cement or stake a claim for a place amongst the global elite. Of the four BRIC countries, for example, only India are yet to win the right to stage a sporting mega event, seemingly content with hosting the world’s pre-eminent limited overs cricket competition and the occasional Formula 1 Grand Prix.

For Russia, the Winter Games were intended to be such a showcase. For Putin, it was to be a celebration of his leadership on the largest stage of all, a gateway to the publicity, profit and pride his ego seems to so desperately desire, and an opportunity to flex the muscles of soft power. Instead the run-up to Sochi 2014 has been dominated by talk of human rights abuses and a growing clamour for a boycott of the Winter Olympics.

To Boycott or Not To Boycott?

In August of last year Stephen Fry, in an open letter to the British government and the Olympic movement, argued that the Olympics should not be staged in Russia . In typically eloquent style, Fry drew a comparison between the plight of homosexuals in today’s Russia to the treatment of Jews in Nazi Germany prior to the 1936 Olympics which were held in Berlin. The letter sparked a mini controversy, although few found fault with Fry’s tone or indeed his description of the anti-homosexual legislation as “barbaric” and “fascist”. Fry’s real crime was in tearing down the artificial wall that separates the worlds of sport and politics – a point he had the foresight to address in his letter:
“The idea that sport and politics don’t connect is worse than disingenuous, worse than stupid. It is wickedly, wilfully wrong. Everyone knows politics interconnects with everything for “politics” is simply the Greek for “to do with the people. An absolute ban on the Russian Winter Olympics of 2014 on Sochi is simply essential. Stage them elsewhere in Utah, Lillehammer, anywhere you like. At all costs Putin cannot be seen to have the approval of the civilised world.
Fry’s call for the International Olympic Committee to “take a firm stance on behalf of the shared humanity it is supposed to represent” was too pointed to be easily dismissed (despite the best efforts of Seb Coe who dismissed the boycott call as a “ludicrous proposition”). With the world’s media beginning to ask awkward questions International Olympic Committee (IOC) president, Jacques Rogge, asked the Russian government for “clarification” on the propaganda law. Eventually Putin felt it necessary to respond and assured the IOC that Russia would “do everything to make sure that athletes, fans and guests feel comfortable at the Olympic Games regardless of their ethnicity, race or sexual orientation".

While the IOC was being seen to tread carefully the British establishment was singing a familiar tune. David Cameron, in slightly more circumspect fashion, made it clear that there was no chance that the British team would boycott the Sochi Games. Taking to Twitter the PM told Fry: "Thank you for your note. I share your deep concern about the abuse of gay people in Russia. However, I believe we can better challenge prejudice as we attend, rather than boycotting the Winter Olympics."

Perhaps Cameron’s argument would carry more weight if he himself were going to be at Sochi. As it is, he, like many other heads of state, have proffered a familiar “do as I say, not as I do” style of leadership, effectively engaging in an unofficial (and therefore deniable) diplomatic boycott.  Vladimir Putin can at least count on support from one – unsurprising – quarter. FIFA president Sepp Blatter has spoken out against any potential protests. With one eye on the continued demonstrations in Brazil, who are due to host the World Cup later this year, Blatter said:
“These two events (Sochi and the World Cup in Brazil) have one thing in common: they have both been misused as a platform for political disputes. In the case of the Winter Olympics, this dispute is coming to a head with threats to boycott the Games. Such a boycott would change nothing. On the contrary, it may be interpreted as a refusal to establish a dialogue on the issue, as was the case with boycotts of the Olympic Games in Moscow in 1980 or in Los Angeles in 1984. I believe that such a major event presents a perfect opportunity to strike up conversations and cultivate contacts."
As the row rumbled on more celebrities – from Madonna to Fry’s old mucker, Hugh Lawrie – spoke out. It reached a spectacular, choreographed conclusion at the Grammys, where 33 couples, both gay and straight, tied the knot at the awards ceremony. The whole thing left me with conflicted thoughts and emotions. On the one hand, old romantic that I am, the display left me a little misty eyed. On the other I couldn’t help but feel that the whole shebang was straight out of the Cold War rhetoric playbook. Some of the media narrative was developing into a tale of binary opposites: West = good: Russia (indeed, everywhere else) = bad. Of course the idea that Cameron’s Conservatives or the US ruling class are interested in tackling homophobia is fanciful. But it left us with a tactical conundrum: How do you deal with the question of the boycott call and not make concessions to the hypocrisy of one’s own ruling class? As Kevin Ovenden explained at the time:
“The Unite Against Fascism message sent to the St. Petersburg anti-fascist demonstration explicitly locates solidarity in a common struggle across Europe. In doing what hard-pressed activists in Russia call for--solidarizing with their struggle--it cuts against both the racist right in Russia and against those who would seek to detach that from its moorings in the common capitalist crisis and place it instead in paradigm of Cold War liberalism. It seeks to respond with a concrete, common call for coordination. Not a ‘boycott’ springing from liberal imagination in the West and, whatever its intention, fusing with highly illiberal forces here, while providing a ready alibi for their equivalents to the East.”
I would argue that socialists should employ a fairly simple rule of thumb, taking our lead from the activists in Russia. In much the same way as the call for the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions campaign originated in calls made by Palestinian activists, so those of us looking to offer our solidarity internationally should look at the wishes of those on the receiving end of Putin’s policies. LGBTQ activists were not, as far as one can discern, urging their supporters in other countries to call for a boycott. In fact, some were arguing that such a strategy would be counter-productive.

However things were a little more complicated. The media in the US and UK has, overwhelmingly, focussed its attention on the situation of the LGBTQ community inside Russia at the expense of all other considerations. There were, in fact, Russian activists calling for a boycott. Circassions have objected to the Winter Games on the grounds that Sochi was the site of the genocide perpetuated by the Russian Empire in 1864. Pussy Riot, the perennial pain in Putin’s posterior, have called for a boycott in order to draw attention to the corruption and human rights violations. And NoSochi activists have been campaigning against the Olympics for a number of years – and had been in London in 2012 to lead the Counter Olympics Network demonstration on the opening Saturday of the Games. While they too have brought talked of state repression and violence, their primary focus has been on the deleterious effects of the Games themselves.

Opposing the Olympic Juggernaut

The Sochi Olympics are the most expensive in history, with costs in excess of $50 billion. How much of that cash has been used to finance the plethora of specially constructed Olympic venues is debatable. Leading Russian opposition figure Boris Nemtsov estimates that as much as 60% of that money has been syphoned off by corrupt politicians and their friends in big business. Alongside this ridiculous economic cost of the Games is an incalculable environmental cost. The wetlands that surround Sochi required massive development and large swathes of the Sochi National Park have been sacrificed at the alter of the sporting mega-event. Concrete now covers areas of vegetation: 225 miles of road and 22 tunnels have been drilled into the mountains. As luxury hotels spring up for wealthy visitors, residential apartment blocks have been left unfinished and local people live in constant fear that their own houses will collapse. 

Workers on Olympic construction projects have endured the most horrendous conditions. Many have not been paid after months of labour and endless guarantees that the money was on its way. Those who complained were visited by the police. Those who persisted tell stories of unsuccessful attempts to beat them into silence. No dissent can be allowed to overshadow the wonder of the Games. The Russian government, under heavy pressure and media scrutiny, have allowed an Olympic protest zone - some twelve miles outside of Sochi. Not that this has halted the inevitable crackdown on civil liberties. Already we have seen Games security, decked out in uniforms which sport the Coca-Cola logo, attack protesters along the route of the Olympic Torch and activists arrested for reading from the Olympic Charter

It is for these reasons - and more besides - that people in Russia have called for a boycott of the Olympics. But it needs to be acknowledged that these experiences are not specific to Russia. Cost over-runs have been part and parcel of the Olympic history for years. Famously Jean Drapeau, the then mayor of Montreal, said ahead of the 1976 Games staged in the city, "The Olympics can no more lose money than a man can have a baby." Montreal finally paid off their Olympic debt in 2000. The cost of the London 2012 Olympics was originally estimated at £2.5 billion yet increased more than five-fold by the time the Games were over. 

Environmental concerns dominated the run up to the previous Winter Olympics in Vancouver; workers rights became a central theme before the 2004 Games in Athens; every successive host city has been left with empty venues, enormous white elephants that testify to the spectacular waste of staging an Olympiad. Each host city has been the scene of protests that seek to draw the attention of the world's media to the fact that the Games offer little more than a five-ring circus in societies racked by inequality. In response each government has laid waste to civil liberties, be it with the murderous intent of the Mexican state in 1968 or the casual racism of the Atlanta police department who rounded up homeless people (many of whom were black) and drove them to the city limits during the 1996 Games.  

The Olympics long ago stopped being a sporting event; they are today an opportunity to exercise commercial, political and state power. Jules Boykoff has described the Games as an example of 'Celebration Capitalism' - an event which allows the ruling class to push through, unchallenged, a series of controversial measures which at any other time would be subject to the most exacting scrutiny and opposition (in a similar vein, Dave Zirin has described the Olympics as a "neo-liberal Trojan horse". Huge amounts of public money is transferred to the private sector; whole areas undergo transformation by gentrification; the poor and the inconvenient are removed in a process that can only be described as social cleansing. What we have witnessed in Russia is an extreme version of these events, but they are not reducible to the evils of the Putin government. They are the inevitable consequence of staging the Olympic Games themselves. 

The Athletes

In the end there was no need to take a decision about campaigning tactics. In reality there was never any chance of the British government, sporting administration or athlete community even considering the possibility of a boycott. The question became instead, would any athletes speak out against the situation in Russia during the Sochi Games? As the Olympics approached the chances seemed to increase as athletes found a political voice. It is important to realise that they did not do so in isolation. The popular notion is of sports men and women operating in a bubble, somehow hermetically sealed from the rest of society, When they occasionally voice an opinion it is treated as an aberration. 

The truth is that, historically, when athletes have spoken out, it has been against the backdrop of wider social movements. As large numbers of people in society begin to challenge racism or sexism so it finds an echo in the world of sport. The athletes become aware of the thousands of people out on the streets and in turn they take confidence from them. Those athletes in Sochi will be aware of the situation in Russia, they will know of the demonstrations, and they will know of the rallies outside Russian embassies in various countries around the globe. While we may not be able to talk of a mass movement, or even a movement in embryo, the protests that have taken place have caused small ripples in the sports world. And the Olympics provides athletes with the largest stage of all on which to make a political statement.

The Olympic Games have always positioned themselves as an event capable of drawing all of humanity together. So it is that Principle 6 of the Olympic Charter states: “Any form of discrimination with regard to a country or a person on grounds of race, religion, politics, gender or otherwise is incompatible with belonging to the Olympic Movement.” Campaigners have been quick to stress that Principle 6 also covers discrimination on the grounds of one’s sexuality and  “under pressure from Athlete Ally and All Out, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has confirmed that Principle 6 includes sexual orientation”. In the week before the opening ceremony in Sochi more than 50 Olympians past and present - including twelve people who are competing in Sochi signed a statement calling on Putin's government to re-think their anti-gay laws. It was a small but most welcome step. 

It is worth remembering that the two most famous political Olympic moments came following failed attempts to secure boycotts. In 1936 the American Athletic Union, repulsed by Nazi Germany’s treatment of its Jewish citizens, collected over half a million signatures in favour of boycotting the Berlin Games. Only reassurances from Avery Brundage, anti-Semite and future IOC president, ensured American – and thereby Jesse Owens’ – participation. The story of Owens is complex, but his achievement is commonly remembered as a demolition of Hitler’s claims to Aryan superiority.

Similarly in 1968 athletes in the United States called unsuccessfully for a boycott under the banner of the Olympic Project for Human Rights. Two of the most outspoken athlete-activists, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, would raise clenched-fist salutes on the medal rostrum in a powerful statement against racism and poverty. Vilified by many at the time, their dignified protest remains one of the most iconic images of the twentieth century.

With no boycott campaign materialising, Sochi offers athletes a unique opportunity to register disgust at Putin’s treatment of the LGBTQ community in Russia. Any athlete who finds the courage to do so will achieve a legacy that resonates far beyond their sporting success.

From People's Game to People at War

Mark Perryman of Philosophy Football revisits the meaning and context of the 1914 Christmas Football Truce

Football in Britain by 1914 was the most popular, nationwide and comprehensive form of male recreation. It was pre-eminent in almost all working-class communities.

An enormous pyramid of footballing activity had evolved, which remains more or less intact to this day.  In England the FA was established as the game’s governing body. An agreed set of rules existed.

But something else apart from a sport had been established . Football in Britain was a key too for reproducing a particular model of masculinity and reinforcing the martial virtues framed by the age of Empire.

As E.A.C Thompson put it in 1901 “There is no more manly sport than football. It is so peculiarly and typically British, demanding pluck, coolness and endurance, while the spice of danger appeals at once to a British youth who is not of the namby-pamby persuasion. He loves the game for the sport’s sake and thrives upon it. A sound mind is produced by healthful exercise and effeminate habits are eschewed. He glories in the excitement of a hard-fought match, disdains to take notice of a little bruise, and delights to be in a vigorous charge, giving knock for knock.” 

It is perhaps no surprise then that some 100,000 volunteers joined the British army during World aWr One via footballing organisations and of 5,000 professional footballers 2,000 joined up.

Of course the most iconic representation of the connection between World War One and football remains the 1914 Christmas Football Truce.

The Western Front, Pont Rouge, on Christmas Eve German troops decorated their frontline with Christmas trees and candles. They sang Stille Nacht, a tune and carol in English known as Silent Night most of the British troops knew too.  Astonished, they applauded and then joined in with songs of their own.

Christmas Day, dawn. The guns are silent. A German NCO advances across No Mans Land carrying a Christmas Tree towards the British lines. A British soldier goes to meet him, soon others join him, gifts are exchanged.

A football is produced. No Mans Land provides the pitch,  greatcoats for goalposts. The ‘match’ ends 3-2 to the Germans.

By lunchtime on Christmas Day the guns of bloody carnage had fallen silent on two-thirds of the British sector.

The fact that football was this means of connection amidst such a bloody conflict is the perfect illustration of its centrality to working-class life in Britain and across Europe by the early 20th century.

A very different expression however was at the Battle of the Somme, 1 July 1916, when Captain Nevill of the East Surreys offered a prize for the first platoon to kick a football up to the enemy trenches. A poem from the time in the Daily Mail, described the action.

“On through the hail of slaughter,
Where gallant comrades fall,
Where blood is poured like water,
They drive the trickling ball.
The fear of death before them,
Is but an empty name;
True to the land that bore them,
The Surreys played the game.”

For the traditional upper class of landed gentry and the nobility, on the retreat politically in the thirty years before the war, the outbreak of hostilities provided an opportunity to prove their value to society, to show they were still the warrior class. Public schoolboys, serving as junior officers , were the first over the top, and machine gunned down in an instant. Of the 5650 Old Etoninans who served in the war 1,157 were killed, 20%. This old aristocratic elite never recovered.
In football this had already happened. The gentlemen amateurs eclipsed by middle-class owners and the professional footballers they employed.

Football had become a working-class sport, providing passion, excitement and beauty in lives that were otherwise drab and monotonous. It was easy to play and cheap to watch.

From 1918 onwards a growing mass media helped popularise football as a spectator sport. By 1921 the Football League was effectively national in its spread of clubs taking part.

Football rather than being viewed as a threat - gambling, partisan support, a false priority, passive spectatorism - was embraced as part of our national culture. A favourable view of the football crowd was increasingly offered.  Restraint (in terms of public order), humour and liveliness the key characteristics via newsreel footage.

1923, the first Wembley FA Cup Final. At least 200,000 fans gained access to a stadium with a capacity of just 127,000.  Thousands entered without paying, rushing the turnstiles before kick off. Mounted police were used to push the crowd back to the touchlines. However, only a handful were hurt. A small contingent of police was used to clear the pitch. The game took place. Respect for the King, present in the Royal Box , in the crowd was paramount and ever-present. The match entering football’s legend as ‘The White Horse Cup Final;, a crowd of tens of thousands easily controlled by this single mounted policeman powerfully symbolic. The militant and explosive spirit of revolution that was sweeping Europe seemed so far away, scarcely present at all

The football crowd was evolving as a symbol of the stable, disciplined and ordered nature of English society.

In understanding 1914 -18 and its aftermath football is a valuable indicator of shifting social attitudes. The game reflected the formation of class identities, gender relations, the growth of the media as an industry, players' fight or their rights as employees of the clubs they played for. The key point is that football, then and now, is both shaped by, and helps shape, the power relations that exist between different social groups in English society. This is the focus we should adopt in understanding the iconic status of the 1914 Christmas football truce.

Mark Perryman is the co-founder of the self-styled 'sporting outfitters of intellectual distinction, aka PhilosophyFootballOn 20 December 2014 Philosophy Football will be marking the centenary of the 1914 Football Truce with a talk by sportswriter Dave Zirin, '1914 And a century of Sport as Resistance' with music, poetry and comedy from Grace Petrie, Kate Smurfwaite, Simon Munnery, Musa Okwonga and others.  

Monday, February 10, 2014

Looking Back in Anger - Life Before the Premier League

Continuing Guest Post February, Mark Perryman of Philosophy Football revisits football before the Premiership

For two decades in the 1970s and 1980s English football had been dominated by serious crowd violence. This was an era of pitch invasions and rioting. Crowd favourite Spurs manager Bill Nicholson describing his own fans as “ A disgrace to Tottenham Hotspur and a disgrace to England. This is a football game - not a war.” English club sides banned from European competition, games forced to be played behind closed doors. Mounted police deployed on the pitch. Bobby Robson’s solution ? “ I would turn a flame-thrower on them.” Players knocked unconscious by missiles, fans seriously injured in the fighting. Chelsea seeking to build an electrified fence around their pitch, later ruled illegal. Much loved West Ham Manager Ron Greenwood appointed England manager and after his own fans are tear gassed responds with “Bastards. I hope they put them in a big boat and drop them in the ocean half-way back.” That was the 1980 European Championship, a decade before Italia 90, Platt, Gazza’s tears, an evening with Gary Lineker. Psycho’s missed penalty and the birth of Planet Football.

New Society Editor Stuart Weir one of the few writers back in 1980 to find out what the dynamics were that turned a peaceful football crowd into a violent mob. “ Practically every young English fan I met in Turin had been menaced, chased, spat at by Italian youths. Bricks and bottles were flung down on their tents at the camp-site from a bridge above.”

And then Heysel in 1985. The European Cup Final, Liverpool vs Juventus. What was expected to be a carnival of football turned into a scene of carnage with dead bodies piled up at the side of the pitch.With missiles, beer cans, bottles, glasses, stones being thrown by both sets of supporters at each other the inadequate barriers between them were soon broken down. Terrified Belgian and Italian fans in desperate frustration stampeded into a perimeter wall. It collapsed, killing 39, injuring 600 more. The morning after Daily Mirror front page ‘ The Day the Football Died.’

It is easy to forget what a violent and unstable place Britain was in the early 1980s and how poor the conditions were for football fans during this period.

English fans had been wreaking havoc in Europe, and at home, on each other. Their behaviour was received with platitudes and inertia from the media and the government. Those who ran the game, those who could do something about the bad grounds, the lousy security, the climate of hate and the racism, invariably looked away. Almost anyone who attended a match during this period knew that something was deeply wrong.
Five years after Heysel at Italia 90 English football began its long renaissance. And now almost a quarter of a century later we’ve moved on to the era of the post-fan, becoming consumers not supporters.

That collapsed wall at Heysel was a deadly metaphor for the gathering destructive culture that brought English football to its bloody knees. Most significantly, Heysel marked the culmination of a long trajectory of violence and neglect in England’s football culture, which despite the 1980s success of its clubs in Europe, was heading inexorably towards self-destruction.

Renaissance? Not on the pitch. Before Heysel English club sides had won 7 of the previous 8 European Cups, since Heysel (28 years) Man Utd have won it twice , Liverpool once, Chelsea once.

And this era of fans as consumers wasn't ushered in uncontested either. After Heysel the Football Supporters Association (FSA) founded by Liverpool fan Rogan Tayor. Within a year it had 10,000 members. The FSA in the 1980s was instrumental in challenging increasingly unfavourable views about supporters and in providing a coherent argument against the government’s unpopular football-related policies, most importantly the ID Card proposal.

The Fanzine When Saturday Comes was founded one year after Heysel too in 1986. Within two years it had become a monthly magazine, by the end of the 1980s there were more than 200 fanzines and an estimated circulation of one million.

Four years on from Heysel, Hillsborough. It is important to remember what Liverpool represented in the 1980s. A city that seemed to be at war with the rest of Britain. A city that symbolised mass unemployment. The city from where the 1981 People’s March for Jobs set off. The 1981 Toxteth riots. Derek Hatton and the MIlitant Tendency running the council. In popular culture Alan Bleasdale’s Boys from the Blackstuff and Yosser Hughes, and later another Bleasdale TV series GBH.

Plus Manchester. ‘Madchester’, Liverpool’s great cultural and footballing rival by the end of the 1980s was on the rise. New Order, Happy Mondays, Stone Roses dominating a music scene once that had been ruled by The Beatles and all things Merseybeat

But football, Liverpool and Everton dominated the League. From 1981 to 1990 betwen them they won eight championships, just Aston Villa and Arsenal breaking the Merseyside grip with a single title each. As writer Andrew Hussey put it. “ Liverpool may have been a wrecked post-industrial wasteland, but football offered a source of local loyalty and pride.”

15.04.89. Liverpool vs Nottingham Forest, FA Cup semi-final, Hillsborough. Kenny Dalglish was Liverpool’s manager, Brian Clough Forest’s. Everton were playing in the other semi-final, an all Merseyside Final beckoned. 3.06 pm the referee blows his whistle and calls a halt to the game. The police demanded this.They were signalling that fans at the Leppings Lane end, where Liverpool’s support were clustered, were spilling on to the pitch. Overcrowding outside the ground had forced the police to open an exit gate and fans had surged on to the already congested standing terrace.

The immediate reaction around the stadium was that fighting had broken out and what they were seeing was a pitch invasion. Liverpool had a reputation, Heysel was only 5 years previously. Yet quickly it became clear this was nothing of the sort. There was high pitched screaming as fans were crushed to death against the pitch perimeter fences erected to keep them penned in. On the pitch some of those who had scrambled over the fence in wild panic lay on the grass gasping for breath, and dying. Fans were dashing all over the place, ripping up advertising hoardings to turn them into makeshift stretchers.

There had been other stadium disasters. The 1971 Ibrox Stadium Disaster. But this was different, it was live on TV. And within days the hurt turned into an organised anger directed at the role of policing in the cause of the disaster. An anger that has persisted in the search for truth and justice ever since.

And then the Sun . Three days after 96 Liverpool fans lost their lives it ran this front-page editorial. “ Some fans picked pockets of victims.Some fans urinated on the brave cops. Some fans beat up a brave cop giving kiss of life”

Nobody had seen any of this, it was later established beyond doubt that none of this had happened, But the mood at the time was such it was almost natural to blame the fans for a tragedy of their own making. This was something Hillsborough was to change, at least in part.

Hillsborough was about the individual families that suffered. But it is also the story of a crowd being killed live on television in front of our eyes. These people were little different from the working-class Liverpudlians of the 1960s who had inspired Bill Shankly’s greatest teams with their passion and collective sense of belief. The scenes of singing and scarf-waving on the Kop had been shown in black-and-white newsreels across the world.

This was the mob, the crowd, the working class in a group and in action, but it was nothing to be feared. The humour and dignity of this crowd were iconic. These images announced to the world the cultural vibrancy of ordinary people and their pleasures. To this extent, Liverpool fans were as crucial a component of 1960s pop culture as the Beatles.

But by the end of the Thatcherite 1980s this same crowd had become the object of scorn and derision. To be working class, to be a football fan, to be unemployed and northern was to be scum.

Mark Perryman is the co-founder of the self-styled ‘sporting outfitters of intellectual distinction, aka Philosophy Football.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Kevin Pietersen and the Logic of Capitalism

Kevin Pietersen is, evidently, not an easy man to get along with. It is no great insight to say that those personal qualities that make him so instantly dislikeable – his brashness, his arrogance, his egotism – are the very things that defined his batting, and made him one of the most exciting talents to grace test cricket over the past decade. The guy is box office; it really is that simple. His attacking lustre, his innovation and unpredictability drew the crowds and left them excitedly perched on the edge of their seats. Yet Pietersen the man seemed irreconcilably drawn to controversy, as though he were never more than 22 yards from the next back page headline.

For a leftie like me the memory of Pietersen’s arrival in England still rankles. His decision to skip out of South Africa, seemingly upset that the country had chosen to advance black players through a quota system, left a bad taste in the mouth. He was, as one journo wag put it, D’Oliviera in reverse. Moreover his media image appeared to encompass all that is wrong with the world of elite sport today. He collected sponsorship deals like the rest of us collect ticket stubs. There really is no other way to put this: it just wasn’t cricket. Pietersen embodied the rampant commercialism that had morphed spectators into consumers, he epitomised the gun-for-hire mercenary trope that sees national identities blurred by globalisation, and, perhaps above all else, he struck you as a man for whom individual success was more important that the success of the collective. He was the quintessential cricketer of the neo-liberal age.

Pietersen may be the very model of the modern middle-order-bat, but there has always been something definitely, defiantly old-school about him. His inclination towards the outspoken has continuously left him at odds with counties, England management and teammates and has been compounded by a demeanour that all too often verges on the sullen. One suspects that Pietersen, like many sporting greats, combines an overbearing self-confidence with a number of deep lying insecurities; a combustible mix that inescapably tends towards inter-personal conflict. While they may have been markedly different in their shot selection, Pietersen and Geoff Boycott have more in common than you might first have thought.

It is impossible to know exactly why Pietersen has been cut adrift at this time, especially as the English Cricket Board have to all intents and purposes issued a bespoke D-notice on the subject. Pietersen’s position as the catalyst for unease in the England set-up has long been grist for the rumour mill, and former captain Andrew Strauss has recently described the “total absence of trust” between KP and his international colleagues. Whether a recent event, as yet hidden from the public gaze, has triggered his departure or whether he is the victim of an accumulation of previous misdemeanours is uncertain. What is certain is that the dénouement to the saga was as inevitable as Pietersen chipping the ball to a short mid-wicket off the bowling of a part-time left arm spinner.

Pietersen’s talents may be unique, but his predicament is not. The maverick has always divided opinion between those who relish the unexpected in the often regimented world of sport and those who refuse to indulge the whims of the prima donna and the loose cannon. One way to approach the question is to say that Pietersen undermined the team ethos; an argument that of course contains a degree of truth and which one might expect to appeal to the socialist sports fan. Yet sport and work under capitalism, as Bero Rigauer has remarked, are “structurally analogous”. All cricketers – even Pietersen – are workers, albeit if some are distinctly more privileged than you or I. As any trade unionist will explain, being singled out as somebody who is “not a team player” is management-speak for someone who refuses to kowtow to authority.  

By virtue of his supreme talent Pietersen was granted more leeway than the average player, and was certainly indulged to a greater extent than your average office worker. He was labelled “temperamental” and a “unique individual” whereas the rest of us would receive written warnings from our employers and urged to attend anger management classes (one suspects that Pietersen can anger management well enough without the need to take a course). For all the time that the England cricket team were winning the situation was handled by the selectors and coaches, it seems that only now has Pietersen’s position become untenable. England’s Ashes failure was as calamitous a performance as I can remember, and my memory goes back to a time when Phil DeFreitas was considered the country’s premier strike bowler. Coach Andy Flower may have fallen on his sword but it was not enough to placate the powers that be.

Giles Clarke (Rugby; Oxford), as chairman of selectors, has cast Pietersen in the role of scapegoat for the humiliation Down Under and also seized the opportunity to remove a long term disruptive influence. It was only a matter of time before management reasserted their authority in such fashion. Cricket’s highly stratified command structures have been reinforced and the team have purged the enemy within in the name of stability and recovery. In sport, as in society, crisis is met with inscrutable logic while blame is apportioned as far from the corridors of power as possible. And with that Pietersen’s England career is over. It is not without irony that he should have fallen victim to the very processes that brought him such wealth and acclaim.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Comrade Jim: The Spy who Played for Spartak

Jim Jepps kicks off Guest Post February on Inside Left with a review of Jim Riordan's autobiography.. Riordan who passed away two years ago was a scholar, an author, a lifelong working class fighter and the only Briton to play in the Soviet football league. You can find more of Jim Jepps' writing at his website and find on Twitter here.

Although technically accurate, the title of Jim Riordan's memoir Comrade Jim: The Spy who Played for Spartak may lead you believe this is the autobiography of a sporting legend who led a double life scoring in the final seconds by day and smuggling micro-film across the border by night. In fact Comrade Jim is a far more modest reminiscence of the author's five years in Russia as a young communist and keen amateur sportsman, describing how his growing unease with the realities of life under "socialism" in many ways tempered his commitment for a better society and opposition to authoritarianism.

Later in life Riordan became a respected academic and a little while ago this very site said that "[h]is works on the history of physical culture in Soviet Russia – most notably Sport in Soviet Society – remain the starting point for any serious investigation into the subject. His small book Sports, Politics and Communism is eminently readable and The Story of Worker Sport (edited with Arnd Kruger) is simply fascinating. Anyone who has an interest in left wing politics and sport simply must get a look at this incredible book."

Riordan's spying days were brief and completely unconnected with his moment of sporting glory. As part of his national service he spent 1954-6 in Berlin covertly translating Russian communications for the RAF. The time was crucial to the story in that the Air Force taught him Russian and gave him the chance to play for the British Army on the Rhine team which was (wrongly) assumed by his later Russian friends to have be rather more prestigious than it actually was, opening doors that perhaps rightly should have been closed to him.

The truly fascinating sections of the book begin with Riordan's time in Moscow. While some of these recollections have been clarified with the benefit of hindsight, meeting face to face those who had suffered terribly under Stalin's rule and the discomfort of others at his more relaxed, less dogmatic approach to politics underscored the desire for a more humane approach to political life, one that left space to play.

Some of his comrades disapproved of the fact that he played with the Diplomatic Corps on Sundays, but as football was barred to the comrades of the Higher Party School (although table-tennis and swimming were allowed) what was he to do? Besides "British Embassy Footmen... and students were hardly an imperialist coterie." The "rest of the world" team they played was captained by the Kenyan Ambassador who had no boots, playing in bare feet, but did provide the ball, and his batman, who refereed. It conjures up a very different Cold War Moscow than we might have imagined.

Going to Spartak games he realised that "football played a special role in Soviet society. The stadium was somewhere you could let off steam, curse and shout abuse at authority (in the shape of the referee and the linesman)".

However, football had not always been such a safe space as the example of the Starostin brothers, who had set up Spartak, shows. Spartak was founded in 1935 as a civil society team as an alternative to the currently existing NKVD and army teams. While popular with the football going public, going up against the favourite secret service team of the psychotic Beria, chief of the security forces and football fanatic, was fraught with danger. When Spartak beat his team in a 1939 semi-final Beria stormed out of the stadium. Despite Spartak then going on to win in the final Beria forced the semi-final game to be re-played, only to have Spartak to win again, this time 3 to 2.

All four brothers and many of the team who played that day were to pay a heavy price for their footballing victories. Their crimes, among a list of trumped up charges, were to include plotting to assassinate Stalin and attempting to "instill into our sport the mores of the capitalist world". Like winning, presumably.

Part of the evidence against the Starstins was having played overseas games in the twenties against rival communist clubs in France and Germany. The idea that foreigners were a danger, even to football, made it all the more of a risk for Spartak to have fielded Jim Riordan, even if it was only for two games until they realised he wasn't good enough! But that's a tale I'll let Riordan tell.

As a whole the book is a fascinating blend of sports anecdotes, musings on the nature of memories, particularly in post-Communist Russia, and simple memoir from a very different place. It's touching when an older man, who sadly died in 2012, looks back while "facing up to the brevity of my future" but beautiful too when they have such joyous memories, even if this episode of his life did not end entirely happily.

As he later explained to the FT "In 1966, after five years in Moscow, I began to get into trouble. I wrote an article for a communist magazine that ended up being headlined “The Growing Pains of Soviet Youth”. The party called me in to explain how pains can grow worse as socialism develops. Overnight, I became a non-person. At work, I had been one of the boys but now my friends ignored me. It was time for me to leave."

For students of Soviet cultural and sporting history this is a lovely little book, but for all of us on the left it's a gentle reminder that socialism without any space for love and play isn't fit for real, breathing humans.