On the way to Wembley to watch England vs Germany, I watched two sets of fans take turns to start songs together on the carriage of my train. Spirits were high and the banter was good-natured. One man in his 40s, clearly several pints deep, set off with a pristine rendition of the John Barnes’ World in Motion rap. Impressive.
I scanned the two sets of fans - group one was slightly younger, a little more diverse, and just a little bit more well-kept. The other group had a few older lads and they dominated the space a bit more — more swaying, body spreading, and with accents a little harsher.
When group two starting singing “10 German Bombers”, group one didn’t join in. Instead, they countered with other tunes to drown it out… “Looking back at when we first met…”. It was clearly intentional. They pointedly did not want to sing that song. Soon we arrived at Wembley Park and we were dumped out into one amorphous bobbing and swaying crowd. But that sing-off in the tube stayed with me — was it a little slice of England’s culture war, played out right in front of me?
I don’t think I have ever been to a match like England vs Germany this July. Now, I’ve been at some buzzing stadiums — I’ve been at those games wherein the final passages of a game there is a tingle on your neck, an ache in your chest — and every, single, tackle won, interception made, and counter-attacking surge is met with a hoarse, buoyant roar.
But, I don’t think I’ve been to a game where it has been like that from minute one. I knew the weight of the occasion. I knew that Wembley needed to be a cauldron. I knew that we needed to make everything as hostile and as challenging for the German players as possible. And I knew we had to support and rouse our boys.
It meant I jeered the German national anthem — not with a vicious hiss, but with a murmured groan and passing chatter to drown out the German fans. It meant (and apologies to my mum and dad) that I sang our national anthem — and what I lacked in sincerity, I made up with gusto. It meant, I cheered our players taking the knee.
From genuflection to the starting whistle, I cheered, hollered and applauded. I was so fearful that boos would ring out and I wanted them drowned out with all the noises of praise and support that I could offer. I am sure some people did boo, but I didn’t hear any. The players seemed lifted.
I hadn’t planned to do this before the game. To be honest, I didn’t really give it much thought. But there was something about seeing the players come out of the tunnel that made them seem so human. Suddenly it was much easier to put myself in their shoes — imagine, in an occasion like this, to be jeered by your own supporters and countrymen, for your simple unified gesture for a cause that you, and so many, so keenly feel to be just and right. Imagine the hurt, anger and isolation it would make them feel.
When professional footballers across England first took the knee, I was moved. While I felt it never had the same emotional resonance as Colin Kaepernick’s refusal to stand proud during the US national anthem— I was still struck by the solidarity of fellow players towards each other and particularly, the organic nature of their demonstration. It felt different to players wearing some t-shirts for a warm-up.
But as the season moved on, the symbolism began to weaken. As this blog rightly highlights, football has become increasingly liturgical. And I couldn’t help but get the feeling that I was getting preached at. By the end of the season, I wanted to leap over advertising hoardings and just say “lads, we get the point now.” And if the stewards would not hack me down and drag me away, I probably would say more:
“Of course black lives matter and of course racism is abhorrent but overcoming deep structural inequality, and tackling overt racism across emerging technology, is complicated and it will take time. Our nation has mades huge strides in reducing racial inequality and tackling overt racism in recent decades. But as things get better, you’ll demand even better, and it is right for you to do that. But just remember, the vast majority stand with you. Social media amplifies a small vicious minority, and that is a problem. It might even skew your perceptions of wider society. But the fixes are not simple.”
Politics is full of gestures. But the idea of “gesture politics” is a politics without substance, without progress or ideas. The vast majority of Britons and football fans agree with those footballers — that racism is morally wrong and that footballers should not be targeted for their race. The original gesture helped raise awareness of the scale of the abuse they received, almost exclusively, online. But once that was made clear… very little happened. Taking the knee became a gesture, without any plans, proposals, ideas, or progress. It seemed, dare I say, like posturing.
Eventually, some policy asks seemed to eke out through footballers’ statements. As the season went on, it became clear that the PFA and FA were lobbying for the Government’s Online Safety Bill. A stodgy, muddled piece of legislation that seemed to sum up everything wrong with our political system. A political system where the government are obsessed with easy-win, sticking-plaster policy and the opposition chooses point-scoring and political grandstanding over hard-nosed, principled, policy scrutiny.
You see, there is already a raft of legislation out there to remove illegal content online and prosecute those who post it — the 1986 Public Order Act, the 1988 Malicious Communications Act, the 2000 Terrorism Act, and the 2006 Terrorism Act.
Section 5 of the Public Order Act criminalises “abusive” behaviour whether written or verbal; section 127 of the Communications Act criminalises “grossly offensive” comments shared via the internet.
The law of Defamation in the UK gives significant protection to reputation and against malicious rumour. The Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act (2000), Investigatory Powers Act (2012) gives sweeping powers for the police to get access to private communications and Section 57 of the Terrorism Act (2000) criminalises the possession of articles connected to terrorism or extremist activity.
I could go on and on.
And the Government know all this. Last Wednesday during Urgent Questions in Parliament, Victoria Atkins speaking on behalf of our Government said — “Individuals who commit racist offences, should face the full force of the law and we already have robust legislation in place to deal with online hate.”
Yet they continue to roll out the Online Safety Bill at great haste, pressured on by Her Majesty’s Opposition. A Bill, which will put in place measures to tackle illegal and ‘legal but harmful abuse’ — meaning that we will be left with two tiers of speech. The speech you can say in the pub and cannot stay online.
Oh, and now define ‘harmful’ speech for me?
The profound impact this could have on freedom of speech in society has not sunk in.
‘The measures’ put in place to tackle ‘legal but harmful abuse’ will involve media companies adopting a ‘duty of care’ to protect us from ‘harmful’ speech. They will be faced with huge fines (up to ten per cent of their annual global turnover) if Ofcom decides they have not fulfilled their duty. It is likely that social media companies will over-censor to ensure they’ve complied and it is also likely they will continue the widespread use of algorithms to remove content. Algorithms that cannot understand the linguistic subtitles of human language and symbols (emojis) nor the context in which they’re written.
And finally — day in, day out, we see celebrities, footballers and politicians challenging the Government to end online anonymity through the Online Safety Bill. Thankfully, we have a Government that does actually seem to appreciate the importance of anonymity, be it for victims of domestic abuse, whistleblowers and dissidents. Moreover, the truth is, it is very difficult to remain completely anonymous online and police already have vast powers at their disposal to find the vast majority of those posting illegal content behind a pseudonym.
I have seen some horrendous things posted online. Stuff that is illegal and is not removed by social media companies. I’ll be the first to say social media companies need to get better at removing illegal content from their sites.
But I also don’t want a racist’s material simply removed — I want them charged and prosecuted. I want the Government to fund our police so they can actually investigate and bring to justice those who spout racial hatred online. I don’t want justice outsourced to Big Tech, I want our police to do their job. Currently, less than one in ten hate crime incidents reported to the police result in someone being charged, and an even smaller number are sentenced.
After EURO 2020 and its fallout, I feel isolated for holding these beliefs.
I feel devastated for the racist abuse Rashford, Sancho and Saka have received. Saka said that he knew exactly what kind of hate he would receive after the game and my heart ached reading those words. I wish I could snap it all away.
But sadly I can’t. 5%-10% of the public hold overt and nasty racist views. 10%-15% of people reject overt racism but hold latent hostility to minority groups, due to concerns around British culture, public services and their own economic prospects. I want to chip away at these numbers, through activism and education, but not through laws encouraging broad-brush censorship.
I know that this small tribe of overt racists, the ‘Active Enmity’, as Hope not Hate call them, are given a megaphone by social media. For many minorities, the barrage of abuse online makes them feel that racism and prejudice are getting worse — when nearly all the evidence points the other way.
But instead of working within these realities, we’d rather have a fantasy battle. One side suggests, maddeningly, that ‘taking the knee’ is Marxist propaganda and gets triggered when a GB News presenter does it. The other side portrays the country as being filled with racists and hate, in an effort to propel themselves and claim that their anti-racist views are not in fact, very normal (they are), but instead uniquely righteous — and they portray Rashford, Saka and Sancho as uniquely heroic figures, rather than just…exceptionally talented footballers, with an impressive track record as millionaire philanthropists, who under immense pressure, failed to deliver in a momentous sporting contest.
In the pub during the final, there were a group of young South Asian men wrapped in England flags. There was also a strained rendition of ‘10 Italy Bombers’, which those very same Asian lads joined in with. The players were applauded when they took the knee. But then at the same time, things weren’t all rosy.
This pub, in the heart of London, was still overwhelmingly white. During the second half, a young black Deliveroo driver began watching the 2nd half through the window. We all eventually beckoned him in and told him to sit with us (as we had a spare seat). The pub cheered as he came in to join the festivities, but then a nearby group of young men began to sing “the delivery driver’s got a massive cock”. They probably viewed it as ‘harmless’ banter, but their song perpetuates racial stereotypes and I could tell the delivery driver was uncomfortable.
As we entered extra time, a small crowd had formed outside to watch through the window. Two black men, another young delivery driver and an older gent, alongside two young Muslim women in hijabs. I went outside to chat to them during the break and asked if they wanted to squeeze in or asked if any of them wanted a drink or soft drink. The disparity of who was in the pub, and who was outside the pub, niggled me — but I also savoured a rare cultural moment that brought such disparate groups together.
The chef at the pub revealed to me that the sheepish barman was in fact Italian. After the final whistle, I went round the bar to congratulate him. He was genuinely frazzled and nervous — “don’t tell anyone I’m Italian” he squealed. I told him this bar was full of pussycats and not that type of person. We had a hug and I bought him a drink.
I was so eager to show people that England supporters are not all ogres and animals. Having followed England abroad, I’ve seen some of the worst of it first hand. I had followed the footage of Leicester Square and Wembley Way earlier that day. Typically, and saddeningly, I had woken to news reports of Italians being indiscriminately attacked after the match. Perhaps the barman was right to be afraid.
However, as time passes, I can reflect on the diversity of fans in England. On the match I attended, German fans lingered after the game on Wembley Way to soak in the atmosphere and had gentle banter with England fans. During the final, thousands of yobs broke in and attacked any Italians they could find.
There are lads who applaud those taking the knee, chant the names of black players they adore and admire, but will sing ‘banter’ using harmful racial stereotypes. There are those who will sing jingoistic songs towards German fans, and those who will not — and those who do it, but with tongue, firmly in cheek.
The cultural war battle is a fantasy fight acting out by self-interested partisans…but we can get sucked into it. After all, social media too often portrays society as if there are only two sides to life. That there is one side of pure ‘Active Enmity’ and the apologists for that (which, according to the discourse, is seemingly anyone who opposes players continuing to take the knee) and one side of pure antiracism and perfect-wokeism. Instead, we all live in a liberal and tolerant nation and most of us fall somewhere in this uneasy middle but hold broadly liberal and tolerant beliefs.
Gradually, England fans are starting to represent the nation as a whole. The England team and the English flag are starting to be embraced by a wider and more diverse section of our society. While the public’s view on ‘taking the knee’ has been mixed, 85% of people have said they supported the statement “there should be no place for racism & discrimination in football in 2020” — only 1% opposed.
My fear is that we’re losing our heads a little bit (and writing this, maybe I am). Every grotesque act by a football fan or hateful Instagram post can now be shared by millions. Social media has led us to believe that the Active Enmity group and the bigots are on the rise and swarming us, and that we need new drastic curtailments of free speech to combat this. I don’t believe this is the case. But by trying to point this out, I feel like I am the only one standing in no man’s land — about to be shot by both sides.
