The Rise, Fall, and Rise Again of the Politics of Middle Eastern Soccer
By James M. Dorsey
Edited remarks at The Beautiful Game? Identity,
Resentment, and Discrimination in Football and Fan Cultures conference, Center
for Research on Antisemitism, Berlin, 12-13 April 2018
The virtually continuous role of soccer as a key player in
the history and development of the Middle East and North Africa dating back to
the late 19th century seemed to have come to an abrupt halt in 2014
as the Saudi-UAE-led counterrevolution gained momentum, the Saudi-Iranian
regional rivalry accelerated, and the political rift in the Gulf initially
manifested itself.
The long and dramatic history of the Middle Eastern
intersection of sports and politics took a backseat as the fallout of the
popular Arab revolts of 2011 unfolded. In contrast to other parts of the world
in which rulers and politicians at times employed sports as a tool to achieve
political goals, sports in general and soccer in particular had been a player
in the Middle East in terms of nation, state and regime formation; assertion of
national identity; the struggle for independence; republicanism vs monarchy;
ideological battles; and fights for human, political, gender and labour
rights.
Soccer in the Middle East and North Africa had repeatedly
demonstrated its potential as an engine of social and political change not
necessarily the lovey-dovey kind of building bridges and contributing to peace,
but more often than not divisive and confrontational. That was evident with the
role of soccer in the 1919 Egyptian revolution; the struggles for nationhood,
statehood and independence of Jews, Palestinians and Algerians; the quest for
modernity in Turkey and Iran; the 2011 popular revolts; post-2011 resistance to
a UAE-Saudi-inspired counterrevolution; the awarding by world soccer governing
body FIFA of the 2022 World Cup hosting rights to Qatar; and ultimately the
battle for regional dominance between Saudi Arabia and Iran as well as the Gulf
crisis that since June 2017 has pitted a UAE-Saudi-led alliance against Qatar.
The Gulf crisis put an end to a period starting with the
crushing of student protests with militant soccer fans at their core against
the military coup in Egypt in 2013 that brought Mr. Al-Sisi to power in which
the sport no longer seemed a useful prism for analysing developments in the
Middle East and North Africa. The crackdown turned Egyptian universities into
security fortresses and seemed to have largely silenced the ultras.
The first round of the Gulf crisis in 2014 when Saudi Arabia,
the UAE and Bahrain withdrew their ambassadors from Doha for a period of ten
months; the escalating war in Syria; the
rise of King Salman and his son, Mohammed bin Salman, and the changes they
introduced in Saudi Arabia; the escalation of the Saudi-Iranian rivalry and its
associated proxy wars; and the initial phase of the second round in the Gulf
crisis with last year’s imposition of a diplomatic and economic boycott of Qatar
reinforced a sense that soccer was not a working prism for analysis of events.
A number of developments have however reversed that sense.
One is the re-emergence of soccer in Egypt as an important player despite the
crackdown on the anti-Sisi protests. Mr. Al-Sisi repeatedly tried, albeit
unsuccessfully, to forge links with the ultras while the ultras in past years
despite the repression again emerged as one of the few groups willing to stage
protests. Scores of protesters have since been sentenced to prison, many remain
detained awaiting trial.
Enlisting the support of soccer represented by the Egyptian
Football Association and major clubs for his re-election this year, Mr. Al-Sisi
positioned soccer as a key tool of associating himself with something the
country is crazy about and that evokes deep-seated, tribal-like emotions.
Egypt’s qualification for this year’s World Cup like that of several other Arab
teams cemented the role of soccer in Egypt and the other qualifying countries.
Similarly, Saudi soccer diplomacy in Iraq has earned the
kingdom brownie points. Soccer, despite the Gulf crisis, has moreover proven to
be the wedge that has driven change and significant reform of the labour regime
in Qatar. The changes fall short of what human rights groups, international
trade unions and the International Labour Organization wanted to see.
Nonetheless, the changes amount to far more than a cosmetic face lift.
Last but not least, soccer, and particularly the Qatar World
Cup, is an important battlefield in the increasingly overt public relations
battle between the Gulf state and its detractors, particularly the United Arab
Emirates. In addition, to playing an important role in the politics of the
region, Middle Eastern soccer has in the past three years highlighted the
hypocrisy of the insistence by world soccer body FIFA that governance should
ensure its separation from politics. The endorsement of a candidate by a
football association and/or clubs makes a mockery of a division of sports and
politics. So do FIFA decisions regarding venues and choice of referees for
competition matches involving teams of the Middle East’s feuding states.
The political role of soccer is rooted in the politics of
sports that goes back to 5th century Rome, when support groups identified as
the Blues, Greens, Reds and Whites in the absence of alternative channels for
public expression acclaimed a candidate slated to be installed as Rome’s
emperor in games dominated by chariot racing. Much like modern day
militant soccer fans or ultras, they frequently shouted political demands in
between races in a bid to influence policy. In doing so, the Romans set a trend
that has since proven its value as well as its risk. In today’s modern world,
soccer pitches, particularly in the Middle East and North Africa, were
frequently viewed as barometers of the public mood and indicators of political
and social trends. They also were platforms for the public venting of pent-up
frustration and anger as well as grievances.
Rome also served as an early example of the impact of fan
power. That was most evident in the 532 AD Nika revolt, the most violent in
Constantinople’s history, when the then dominant Blues and Greens rioted for a
week, destroyed much of the city, sacked the Hagia Sophia, and almost succeeded
in forcing the Byzantine emperor Justinian I to vacate his throne.
The identification, through patronage and micromanagement, of
modern-day Arab autocrats with soccer emulates the Romans’ use of games and
sports to solidify their power. Arab autocrats, however, unlike their Roman
predecessors, were determined to prevent soccer clubs from becoming arbiters of
political power. The Greens and the Blues and their fans in fifth-century-AD
games were the Roman predecessors of today’s Middle Eastern and North African
soccer fans who expressed similarly deep-seated passions.
Arab autocrats, however, unlike their Roman predecessors,
were determined to prevent soccer clubs from becoming arbiters of political
power. In contrast to the Romans, giving fans and the public a say in the
choice of a leader would be unthinkable in contemporary autocratic Arabia. It
would have to give the public a degree of sovereignty and undermine the
position of the ruler as the neo-patriarchic, autocratic father in the mould of
Palestinian-American scholar Hisham Sharabi, who characterized autocracies in
the Middle East and North Africa as expressions of neo-patriarchy.
Soccer was the perfect tool for neo-patriarchic autocrats.
Their values were the same values that are often projected onto soccer:
assertion of male superiority in most aspects of life, control or harnessing of
female lust, and a belief in a masculine God. The game’s popularity, moreover,
made it the perfect soft-power tool to wield transnational sporting influence
in an era of decolonization followed by a Cold War in which sporting powers
like the United States and the Soviet Union were focused on the Olympics rather
than the World Cup, and it continues to serve this purpose in subsequent
globalization.
As a result, neo-patriarchy framed the environment in which
militant soccer fans turned the soccer field into a battlefield. Arab
autocrats, such as the toppled Egyptian and Tunisian presidents Hosni Mubarak
and Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, had no intention of risking a repeat of Justinian
I’s experience. Theirs was a world in which there could be no uncontrolled
public space, no opportunity for the public to express itself, voice
grievances, and vent pent-up anger and frustration. They could suppress most
expressions of dissent, such as underground music. Musicians were intimidated,
imprisoned, or refused entry into the country, with by and large little or no
public response. Labor activism was
brutally repressed. The soccer pitch,
however, like the mosque, were venues for the deep-seated emotions they evoked
among a majority of the population and could not simply be repressed or shut
down. The mosque proved easier to control. The pulpit was subjected to
government supervision; clerics were state employees. Security forces
successfully confronted more militant, politicized lslamists.
Soccer pitches were not that simple. Fans, particularly
militants, who described themselves as ultras and viewed club executives as
representatives or corrupt pawns of a repressive regime and players as
mercenaries who played for the highest bidder, were cut from a different cloth.
They understood themselves as their club’s only true supporters, and as a
result believed that they were the real owners of the stadium. In staking their
claim, the fans emerged in countries like Egypt, Tunisia, and Morocco as the
most, if not only, organized force willing and able to figuratively and
literally challenge the regime’s effort to control all public space.
The fans’ claim positioned soccer as both a threat and an
opportunity for Middle Eastern and North African autocrats. The threat was an
increasingly fearless, well-organized, highly politicized, and street
battle–hardened force that attracted thousands of young men who were willing
and able to stand their ground against the security forces. In doing so, they
were publicly challenging the state’s authority.
Long deprived of the option to simply close down the
contested public space, autocrats like Mr. Mubarak were forced to respond with
a combination of co-optation and repression. Alongside heavy-handed use of
security forces, they sought to identify themselves with the game, the region’s
most popular form of popular culture, by basking in the success of national
teams and major clubs and exploiting neo-patriarchal attitudes by showering
players with expensive gifts and the ruler’s attention, while at the same time
denouncing the ultras as criminals and thugs. That pattern continues until
today buffeted by significantly stepped-up repression and in the case of Egypt
the virtual closure to the public of stadiums for much of the past seven years
made possible by the 2011 revolt.
Co-optation potentially creates significant opportunity for
the autocrat no more so that at times of major international competitions like
the World Cup. Identification with one of the country’s most popular and
emotive pastimes offered the autocrat the prospect of harnessing it to polish
his often tarnished image. Co-optation also provided an autocrat with an
additional peg for favourable media attention that could help distract
attention away from or overshadow criticism. Finally, it enabled autocrats to
manipulate public emotions at given moments and rally the nation around them,
as the Mubaraks did against Algeria in late 2009.
In many ways the Middle East of today is not the Middle East
of a decade ago. Arab autocrats recognize that in their efforts to upgrade
autocracy and embrace economic and social reform coupled with increased
repression. The mayhem in the region works in their favour. The wars and the
violence invoke nationalist and other useful emotions and invoke fears that
popular protest could lead to chaos and anarchy. Yet, discontent is simmering
at the surface much as it did in the run-up to the 2011 revolts and the soccer
pitch is often where it rears its head.
The mayhem in the Middle East and North Africa is not
exclusively, but in many ways, due to autocrats’ inability and failure to
deliver public goods and services. That is true not only for the region’s
autocratic majority but also for Iran, and Tunisia, the Arab revolt’s one and
only relative success story. Saudi Crown
Prince Mohammed bin Salman appeared to be holding out a dream for his kingdom.
But that dream increasingly is being shattered in Yemen and at homes has yet to
produce more than greater freedoms for women and opportunity for entertainment.
Autocrats in the Middle East and North
Africa are about upgrading and modernizing their regimes to ensure their
survival, not about real sustainable change.
Human rights activist and former Tunisian president Moncef
Marzouki was asked in a Wall Street Journal interview why it was not only those
who lacked opportunity and felt that they had no prospects and no hopes but
also educated Tunisians with jobs who had joined the Islamic State. His answer
was: “It’s not simply a matter of tackling socioeconomic roots. You have to go
deeper and understand that these guys have a dream—and we don’t. We had a
dream—our dream was called the Arab Spring. And our dream is now turning into a
nightmare. But the young people need a dream, and the only dream available to
them (was) the caliphate.”
Mohammed bin Salman has come closest to creating a dream.
For now, it remains a dream on which he has yet to deliver. Much of the Middle
East does not have a dream.
A court ruling In Egypt since the rise of Mr. Al-Sisi banned
ultras groups as terrorist organizations. A similar attempt failed in Turkey.
Yet, the scores of arrests in Egypt demonstrate that the ultras are alive and
kicking. Said a founder of one Egypt’s original ultras groups that played a key
role prior to the rise of Mr. Al-Sisi: “This is a new generation. It’s a
generation that can’t be controlled. They don’t read. They believe in action
and experience. They have balls. When the opportunity arises, they will do
something bigger than we ever did.”
In sum, soccer resistance may be down but not out.
Autocratic rulers retain the upper hand and use the sport to enhance their grip
on power, ironically aided and abetted by FIFA. Yet, it is that very approach
to the sport that also positioned it as a platform for protest and resistance.
The jury is out on whether autocratic efforts at reform will produce
sustainable results. The record so far is mixed at best. If there is one group
at the ready if reforms fail, it is likely to be soccer fans.
Dr.
James M. Dorsey is a senior fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International
Studies, co-director of the University of Würzburg’s Institute for Fan Culture,
and co-host of the New Books in
Middle Eastern Studies podcast. James is the author of The Turbulent World of Middle East Soccer blog, a book with the same title as well
as Comparative
Political Transitions between Southeast Asia and the Middle East and North
Africa,
co-authored with Dr. Teresita Cruz-Del Rosario, Shifting Sands, Essays on Sports and
Politics in the Middle East and North Africa, and
the forthcoming China
and the Middle East: Venturing into the Maelstrom
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