There’s nothing black and white about these racism allegations

Why we should resist passing judgement on these racial abuse accusations.

It would be easy to look at recent events in the world's two most lucrative and popular football leagues and conclude that in the last 10 days, racism has made an unwanted reappearance in modern football. Luis Suarez's infamous spat with Patrice Evra during Liverpool's game against Manchester United on October 15, was followed by two further incidents of alleged racism this weekend; one involving John Terry and Anton Ferdinand during the west London derby at Loftus road this Sunday, the other involving former north London rivals Cesc Fabregas and Frédéric Kanouté as Barcelona hosted Seville on the same day. But just because it would be easy to make this conclusion, doesn't mean that it would be right.

Each of the three incidents involves two opponents, one white and one black, sharing some choice language. The question is just what did they choose to say. In the case of Suarez and Evra, the Manchester United player accuses the Liverpool striker of calling him "certain word at least ten times." The word in question is clearly a well-known racial pejorative and one which Suarez denies using. The Football Association is currently investigating the incident. The allegation which caused John Terry to issue a statement in which he said "I would never say such a thing and I'm saddened that people would think so" is slightly different. Ferdinand hasn't accused Terry of anything, rather television footage from the game circulated on the internet shows Terry shout something at the QPR defender. Evidence in this footage is far from concrete and although the second word Terry appears to say wouldn't be considered very polite, it is unclear whether the word which precedes it relates to the colour of Ferdinand's skin or the quality of his eyesight. In Spain, the clash between Fabregas and Kanouté, the only incident of the three which lead to disciplinary action on the pitch (Kanouté was sent off for grabbing Fabregas), continued on Twitter, where Kanouté insisted "there was provocation and an insult", while Fabregas categorically denied it was of a racial nature "to cry racism is cowardly and an easy option to excuse your own poor behaviour."

In an era in which the public expects the most contentious incidents in high profile matches to be settled retrospectively through intense media scrutiny, it is a source of great frustration to both football fans and pundits that altercations such as those discussed above are likely to remain inconclusive. It doesn't matter how many cameras are packed into a ground, there's always likely to be instances where the only evidence for the nature of a spat will be one player's word against another's. Consequently in many cases, the Suarez/Evra incident being a good example, both parties involved become negatively tainted: one is suspected of lying, the other of being racist.

It is a mark of how far public attitudes towards racism in sport have progressed, that modern players now view being branded a racist as beyond contempt. Indeed if there is one thing the game seems to hold in lower regard than racists, it's those who are thought to have made false accusations of racism. Terry justified his aggressive response to Anton Ferdinand saying, "I thought Anton was accusing me of using a racist slur against him" and Fabregas signed off his signed off his Twitter defence stating "I will not tolerate anyone accusing me of things that I'm not". All too aware that mud sticks if you are seen to let it, the ferocity with which these charges are denied invites us to question the integrity of the accuser. The mistake we make is by accepting.

On the Monday following the Liverpool v Manchester United match the Guardian launched an online poll asking "Should Evra be banned if his claims prove false?" second guessing the outcome of an FA investigation that was barely 24 hours old. And today the Daily Mail has cast its considered and balanced view on both domestic incidents suggesting to Messers Evra and Ferdinand that they "could just put up with it and get on with the game." Both newspapers seem keen to draw a line under events, without the necessary information available to do so. It is unlikely that any of the above episodes will be concluded decisively, but that doesn't mean we should succumb to our desire to treat accusations of racial abuse as simple black and white issues.

 

 

 

 

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org