John Terry's not guilty, but football's still in trouble

Everyone has to stop racism from blighting our showpiece sport.

Football's coming back. The adverts for the new Premier League season will be hitting our screens soon, promising the usual drama, more amazing goals and plenty of action. What they won't mention is the ugly face of the game - the claims of racism which have tainted the family-friendly image of the self-proclaimed 'best league in the world'.

After several months during which ill feeling festered on both sides, the Anton Ferdinand-John Terry case has finally concluded with Terry being found not guilty of the charges. With the case coming so soon after the Luis Suarez-Patrice Evra incident, which saw the Liverpool player banned for eight matches, we have to ask the question  whether this represents a crisis in the elite game or just two unfortunate, isolated incidents.

Terry's words were caught on camera and seemed to be decipherable to most amateur lipreaders - although the sound of what he said was not recorded. His defence, which was upheld, was that he was using them sarcastically, claiming that Ferdinand had wrongly accused him of racial abuse.

Both players admitted laying into each other with swearing and trash talk - not doing a great service for the sponsors and brands who attach themselves so keenly to the English Premier League, or being terrific role models for the millions of young fans who look up to their favourite stars as players (if not necessarily as people).

The incident had wider implications too. Ferdinand's brother, the former England captain Rio, found himself booed when he played against Chelsea - and there were later suggestions that the bad blood between the two was behind England's decision not to take both players to the tournament in Ukraine and Poland. Terry was found not guilty of the offence for which he was charged, so let that be an end to the matter. It shows that England's decision to keep him in the Euro 2012 squad, presuming innocence, was probably the right one.

The not guilty verdict for the former England captain will leave many - players, sponsors and those with a vested interest in seeing the game making a healthy profit - breathing a sigh of relief that the top flight wasn't tainted by this trial. Perhaps they can think that racism on the pitch can be relegated to a misunderstanding, or a vendetta. But that doesn't mean that racism is never, was never, and will never be a problem.

The Terry-Ferdinand spat came soon after the Luis Suarez-Patrice Evra affair, which poisoned what was already arguably the fiercest rivalry in the Premier League: between Liverpool and Manchester United.

The United skipper accused Suarez of making a racist remark; the Uruguayan defended himself and said it was a cultural misunderstanding of the term "negrito"; his clubmates wore T-shirts in support ahead of a match; but Suarez was found guilty. When the two sides met again in the league, at Old Trafford, Evra wildly celebrated United's at the final whistle right in front of Suarez. Again, it was hard for anyone to find the moral high ground.

Gone are the days in England when the major focus of racism in football was off the pitch, where disgraceful racist chanting, banana-throwing and abuse were a sad reality for many black players. But while that kind of behaviour has mainly been eradicated from the terraces, it's now the players who face closer scrutiny.

It's probably the case that trash-talking has spilled over into hate speech for many years, but the issue has come to a head now, and the authorities must be seen to take a stand. When there are 40 or more cameras trained on the action at top-flight games, the top players' every cough and spit is likely to be broadcast. There is no use in pretending it hasn't happened, or hoping that the problem will go away.

Some will argue that victims of racism should just - to use that horrible phrase - "man up" and get on with it rather than complaining. Some will say that psyching out an opponent is part and parcel of the game, like sledging in cricket - and there may be some merit in that. But it has to be made clear that certain lines cannot be crossed, and certain types of abuse are completely unacceptable - not on a park, not on a pitch, not in a stadium in front of 70,000 paying punters.

Don't blame the victims for coming forward. Don't blame the cameras for zooming in on the players' faces. And don't hide behind fandom and club loyalty to protect "your" players when they behave appallingly - if you do, you are just as guilty as they are. Everyone has to work together to stop racism from blighting our showpiece sport, and it starts with the fans. If some will continue to believe that 'their' players have done nothing wrong, and line up to defend those who have done indefensible things, we will get nowhere.
 

John Terry at Westminster Magistrates court in London. Photograph: Getty Images
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Find the EU renegotiation demands dull? Me too – but they are important

It's an old trick: smother anything in enough jargon and you can avoid being held accountable for it.

I don’t know about you, but I found the details of Britain’s European Union renegotiation demands quite hard to read. Literally. My eye kept gliding past them, in an endless quest for something more interesting in the paragraph ahead. It was as if the word “subsidiarity” had been smeared in grease. I haven’t felt tedium quite like this since I read The Lord of the Rings and found I slid straight past anything written in italics, reasoning that it was probably another interminable Elvish poem. (“The wind was in his flowing hair/The foam about him shone;/Afar they saw him strong and fair/Go riding like a swan.”)

Anyone who writes about politics encounters this; I call it Subclause Syndrome. Smother anything in enough jargon, whirr enough footnotes into the air, and you have a very effective shield for protecting yourself from accountability – better even than gutting the Freedom of Information laws, although the government seems quite keen on that, too. No wonder so much of our political conversation ends up being about personality: if we can’t hope to master all the technicalities, the next best thing is to trust the person to whom we have delegated that job.

Anyway, after 15 cups of coffee, three ice-bucket challenges and a bottle of poppers I borrowed from a Tory MP, I finally made it through. I didn’t feel much more enlightened, though, because there were notable omissions – no mention, thankfully, of rolling back employment protections – and elsewhere there was a touching faith in the power of adding “language” to official documents.

One thing did stand out, however. For months, we have been told that it is a terrible problem that migrants from Europe are sending child benefit to their families back home. In future, the amount that can be claimed will start at zero and it will reach full whack only after four years of working in Britain. Even better, to reduce the alleged “pull factor” of our generous in-work benefits regime, the child benefit rate will be paid on a ratio calculated according to average wages in the home country.

What a waste of time. At the moment, only £30m in child benefit is sent out of the country each year: quite a large sum if you’re doing a whip round for a retirement gift for a colleague, but basically a rounding error in the Department for Work and Pensions budget.

Only 20,000 workers, and 34,000 children, are involved. And yet, apparently, this makes it worth introducing 28 different rates of child benefit to be administered by the DWP. We are given to understand that Iain Duncan Smith thinks this is barmy – and this is a man optimistic enough about his department’s computer systems to predict in 2013 that 4.46 million people would be claiming Universal Credit by now*.

David Cameron’s renegotiation package was comprised exclusively of what Doctor Who fans call handwavium – a magic substance with no obvious physical attributes, which nonetheless helpfully advances the plot. In this case, the renegotiation covers up the fact that the Prime Minister always wanted to argue to stay in Europe, but needed a handy fig leaf to do so.

Brace yourself for a sentence you might not read again in the New Statesman, but this makes me feel sorry for Chris Grayling. He and other Outers in the cabinet have to wait at least two weeks for Cameron to get the demands signed off; all the while, Cameron can subtly make the case for staying in Europe, while they are bound to keep quiet because of collective responsibility.

When that stricture lifts, the high-ranking Eurosceptics will at last be free to make the case they have been sitting on for years. I have three strong beliefs about what will happen next. First, that everyone confidently predicting a paralysing civil war in the Tory ranks is doing so more in hope than expectation. Some on the left feel that if Labour is going to be divided over Trident, it is only fair that the Tories be split down the middle, too. They forget that power, and patronage, are strong solvents: there has already been much muttering about low-level blackmail from the high command, with MPs warned about the dire influence of disloyalty on their career prospects.

Second, the Europe campaign will feature large doses of both sides solemnly advising the other that they need to make “a positive case”. This will be roundly ignored. The Remain team will run a fear campaign based on job losses, access to the single market and “losing our seat at the table”; Leave will run a fear campaign based on the steady advance of whatever collective noun for migrants sounds just the right side of racist. (Current favourite: “hordes”.)

Third, the number of Britons making a decision based on a complete understanding of the renegotiation, and the future terms of our membership, will be vanishingly small. It is simply impossible to read about subsidiarity for more than an hour without lapsing into a coma.

Yet, funnily enough, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Just as the absurd complexity of policy frees us to talk instead about character, so the onset of Subclause Syndrome in the EU debate will allow us to ask ourselves a more profound, defining question: what kind of country do we want Britain to be? Polling suggests that very few of us see ourselves as “European” rather than Scottish, or British, but are we a country that feels open and looks outwards, or one that thinks this is the best it’s going to get, and we need to protect what we have? That’s more vital than any subclause. l

* For those of you keeping score at home, Universal Credit is now allegedly going to be implemented by 2021. Incidentally, George Osborne has recently discovered that it’s a great source of handwavium; tax credit cuts have been postponed because UC will render such huge savings that they aren’t needed.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle