The United States always feels challenged by the World Cup. Unlike the Olympics, where Americans tend to dominate, the US has rarely shone in the tournament, although it famously defeated England in 1950. It is an 80-1 long shot this time and may struggle to overcome group stage opponents Ghana and the Czech Republic, let alone Italy. For Americans used to winning, there is something vaguely shocking about this.
But US soccer-related insecurity is political and cultural, too. For four weeks, the world shows its back to the number one nation. The usual hierarchies of power are turned upside-down; the agenda is no longer Washington’s to command. It is not often that old enemies, such as Mexico, or relatively new ones, such as Iran, get the chance to ”beat” the US. But either may do so in Germany if their teams progress.
While football has gained in popularity in the US in recent decades, and ”soccer moms” have become a key electoral target group, the land of the Super Bowl and the World Series still finds it hard to accept the ”beautiful game’s” global supremacy. World Cups usually give rise to a spate of newspaper stories reassuring American readers that their national sports still have international appeal.
”More people play basketball in China than there are people in the US,” said Andres Martinez of the Los Angeles Times in a typical morale-boosting dispatch from Beijing this week. ”The game was introduced by American missionaries and even thrived during the Cultural Revolution. The NBA [National Basketball Association] is now seen in China as a hip, personality-filled offshoot of US culture.”
US exceptionalism applies to the politics of football. No US president ever lost his job, or won an election, on the back of a World Cup result. Its political impact is far greater elsewhere. By boosting the national feel-good factor, a winning performance can advance a government’s fortunes. Harold Wilson was quick to ride the wave of England’s 1966 victory. The exact opposite happened in Italy after it lost to North Korea the same year. It was called ”a defeat without honour”, an Italian Waterloo, and a shame-faced nation descended into recrimination.
Political fallout
If anything, the World Cup effect has become more intense. Diplomats admit that Dominique de Villepin, France’s embattled Prime Minister, could use a repeat of his national team’s 1998 victory — a triumph hailed, prematurely given last autumn’s riots, as a product of French racial integration. In Germany, by contrast, officials said on Tuesday that public expectations were so low that even a moderately good run could bolster Angela Merkel’s government. A win, and she could be Chancellor for life.
And in Italy, the new Prime Minister, Romano Prodi, seems determined history will not repeat itself. He called his disparate coalition members to a retreat at the weekend to instil teamwork. ”We have to learn that you can score goals if all play as a team,” he said. ”The ministers must play together for five years and some of them don’t know each other well.” Prodi will also be hoping for a win in Germany. Some economists say World Cup success boosts a country’s economic growth by up to 0,7%.
World Cup officials and aficionados see broader political benefits. They portray it as an all-embracing, unifying event that in its qualifying stages reaches almost everywhere, transcending old rivalries from Israel to Saudi Arabia, Croatia to Bosnia, and Russia to Ukraine. In recent years the competition’s evolution has closely reflected the rise of developing countries, with formerly disregarded Cameroon leading Africa’s charge, followed by Nigeria and Senegal. Tiny Togo has now picked up the baton along with Côte d’Ivoire. In a potentially enormous fillip for post-apartheid South Africa, the next tournament will be played there in four years.
But the World Cup has a darker side, reflecting international tensions. The possibility that Iran’s President, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, may visit Germany to support his team has elicited a furious reaction there, arising from his threats to Israel and his questioning of the Holocaust. ”If he does come, then he will naturally be told with all clarity that what he said is absolutely unacceptable, criminal and far removed from reality,” the head of Germany’s football association, Theo Zwanziger, said this week.
Racist solidarity
German unease has been heightened by reports that neo-Nazis plan to rally in support of Iran in Nuremberg. Iran has become ”a great symbol to racist German groups”, an anti-racism campaigner told the Guardian‘s Donald McRae in Munich this week. ”They want to express solidarity with the Iranian president’s anti-semitic comments.”
The worries have played into broader concerns that ultra-nationalist chauvinism, associated hooliganism, and the racist abuse of footballers commonplace in some European leagues may spill over into World Cup venues. England, France, Italy and some east European countries all share the problem. And Merkel was obliged to defend Germany’s reputation this week, saying recent xenophobic attacks were not typical. That is just as well, given the hundreds of thousands of foreign fans who will descend on German cities.
Given the high stakes, some political and cultural clashes are unavoidable in any World Cup. Grudge matches such as England vs Germany inevitably acquire a heavy significance. And the official World Cup slogan, ”A time to make friends”, does resemble a shot off target. Most agree the World Cup is a fantastic international celebration. But it is also a battle of nations that must at all costs be won. ”What history remembers is results. Nothing more,” says Brazil’s veteran coach, Mario Zagallo.
Spare a thought, then, for Serbia and Montenegro, which is fielding a team in the World Cup finals for the first and last time. Last month, Montenegro voted for independence from its larger neighbour. Next time around, the two will presumably field separate teams. But what if Serbia and Montenegro, a 100-1 shot, should win the Cup on July 9 in Berlin? Peaceful separation looks like a tall order when the holder’s automatic place in the next World Cup is at stake. The history of the Balkans has turned on less. – Guardian Unlimited Â