Cup of Lies

There’s something about the World Cup that bothers me even more than the rampant fraud, corruption, and police repression.

I won’t be going to Brazil for the World Cup. But I will get to experience watching the festivities from what is perhaps the only other country in the world that matches Brazil’s level of soccer obsession: Argentina. People are excited here. Street vendors are selling flags, plastic bowler hats, and blue-and-white vuvuzelas (incidentally, the flag of Argentina has the same color scheme as the Twitter logo — coincidence?) Once, I passed a candy shop that prominently showcased a chocolate statuette of Messi in the window. If the statuette were to melt, the situation would indeed be messy. I wonder if the storeowner appreciates this irony.

By all accounts, the situation in Brazil is quite messy too. There’s been plenty of chest thumping by the government about how great the World Cup will be for the citizens of Brazil. And even though plenty of everyday Brazilians seem to be pleased with the cup, there’s also a significant chunk of the populace that is unhappy with how things have turned out.

After reading a few news stories, it’s easy to understand why. The cost of stadium construction alone is four times what the Brazilian government announced back in 2007. Hundreds of thousands have been displaced to make way for new stadiums. Various transportation projects have been delayed. Bowing to pressure from FIFA and Budweiser, Brazil lifted a ban on beer in its stadiums originally put in place in the interest of public safety. Personally, I wish that the government would have at least have the decency to do it for a beer that doesn’t taste like liquefied horse manure. Did I mention that the favelas have been taken over by the Brazilian military police?

Henry Grabar at Salon sums up this turn of events perfectly: “The sordid business of hosting an international sporting event isn’t a back story; it’s the story.” Recently, Brazil’s president Dilma Rousseff responded to such criticisms, calling World Cup critics “pessimists”. I guess she’s right — if military police occupied my neighborhood, I’d be pretty pessimistic myself.

All of these events are troubling, and yet, there’s something about the cup that worries me much more than mere (yes, mere) corruption and repression. Something whose roots go back to the beginning of human history, but whose nasty repercussions flared up exactly one hundred years ago in a memorably gruesome turn of events. And mega-celebrations like the world cup make me worry that they might flare up again.

In 1914, most people in Europe were doing pretty well (relatively speaking, of course). The French, with their flair for finding cutesy names for everything, called this time period la belle époque. Then, within the timespan of a few weeks, everything went to hell. The archduke of Austria-Hungary was shot by an assassin from a separatist group in Sarajevo, in the southern end of the territory controlled by Austria-Hungary at the time. This set off a chain reaction that led to World War One, an event that would kill millions, and the French would probably describe as l’époque de merde. Look it up.

The killing of the Archduke led to a brutal crackdown on Sarajevo from the Austro-Hungarian government. This pissed off the Russians, who declared war on Austria-Hungary. Germany, an ally of Austria, then decided to declare war on Russia. They also declared war on France, just for fun. To attack France, Germany sent its troops through Belgium. This angered England, since the British had a weird thing for the Belgians (maybe they really liked waffles?). Eventually, the US got involved too, after Germany secretly tried to get Mexico to invade the American west.

This chain of events played out like a sick game of dominoes, but what was it that really made it happen? Government leaders must have known that starting a war would lead to massive death and destruction, which is not a particularly effective platform for them to get reelected on, so why did they attack anyway? The answer, in a word, is nationalism. Each of these nations was unusually proud of its own identity, and in addition, looked on other countries with scorn — and in extreme cases, hatred. Leaders played on this hatred to amp up their popularity in the short term, which ended up backfiring and destroying everything.

World War One is a textbook case of the destructive effects of nationalism. There have been plenty of others since then — for instance, the Cold War. But in the interest of time, let’s skip back to the World Cup, an event with the potential to stir up such destructive nationalism once again.

Earlier today, Mexican-American journalist Leon Krauze published an article in The New Republic, briefly telling the story of his grandfather, who almost-but-not-quite made it as a professional soccer player in Mexico, but instead became a cardiologist (it turned out he just didn’t have the heart to be a soccer player — ha!). Krauze recounts a childhood trip with his granddad to watch his favorite team compete against Guadalajara in 1983. His granddad looked at the field, spotted Guadalajara’s coach, and promptly belted out: “Chinga tu madre!”

Krauze goes on to explain how, despite his family’s historic disdain for Guadalajara, the real enemies in soccer are Brazil:

“And [the Brazilians] think they’ve got it made. Just like in 1950, the Brazilians feel they deserve the trophy even before the brazuca has started rolling… That’s why I really want them to lose. In honor of my grandfather, who taught me how to profoundly and merrily dislike a team, I hope the ghost of Maracaná strikes once more. “

On the surface, this sounds like it’s all fun and games. But I can’t help but think that it might also have been what all those nations, who 100 years ago decided to entangle themselves in the most idiotic war in human history, were thinking as well. When Russia declared war, there must have been some crazed Russians who thought: “Those goddamn Austo-Hungarians think they’ve got it made. I really want them to lose!” And so on, for the rest of Europe.

There are many problems with the World Cup. First, the idea that the eleven men from our country’s soccer team — who we’ve never met, who wouldn’t stop to give us the time of day, and who make more money kicking around a soccer ball for an hour than we do our entire productive lives — represent us in any way, is doubtful at best.

But the premise of the World Cup is much more sinister: that we as nations ought to cheer for these overpaid athletes simply because they’re trying to take down other nations. Why should we want this? Why does the arbitrary placement of borders across various chunks of territory make all people on our side allies, and all people on the other side enemies? Aren’t we all human beings? Sure, the issue of whether or not we care about the well being of others will never really be resolved, but can’t we at least agree not to let the arbitrary concept of nationality cloud our judgement?

When I first moved here, I asked some Argentines how well they got along with Brazilians. “Oh, we get along fine,” they would tell me. “Unless, of course, our team is playing against them.” I don’t think anyone who has been here any amount of time could doubt this. But I’ve found out that, despite a generally friendly relationship between Argentina and Brazil, certain other events can also whip the Argentines up into a nationalistic tizzy against Brazil. For instance, last year’s selection of Pope Francis prompted an Argentine TV show to write a cheesy song mocking the Brazilians for not getting the pope pick — making sure to add that Maradona was better than Pelé.

Looking at some recent news from back home, it seems we Americans don’t need a soccer game or the selection of a new pope (and the irritating song that apparently comes with it) to make us hate other countries. Yesterday, the far right house representative Eric Cantor was taken down by an even farther right primary challenger, mostly because Cantor wasn’t sufficiently anti-immigrant.

Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m being a sourpuss, like I was when I wrote that article about the evils of the internet. But when I look at the cup, part of me sees the roots of division in a world that has enough conflict already. Instead of subtly promoting the idea that other nations are some kind of evil unknown, who “thinks they deserve the trophy”, shouldn’t we be looking for ways to come together?

I don’t want to suggest that the World Cup is somehow evil (though I do want to suggest that the idea of military police occupying the favelas is seriously messed up). Hell, I’m even going to be rooting for the US team — the World Cup is the only time we get to be the underdog. However, after we inevitably get clobbered by the German über-team, I’ll probably fall back on rooting for Argentina, the only country I’m connected with in any way that has a plausible chance of winning.

If you’re reading this and you’re from the US, it’s statistically most probable that you still think that all soccer players are a bunch of girly-men, and the only sports worth watching involve either steroid abuse or monster trucks. But there are a growing number of soccer fans in the US, and if you’re one of them, my message to you is this: go ahead, watch the cup, cheer for the US team. But don’t get carried away. Don’t start thinking that, just because you want to beat another country’s team on the field, you also want to beat them up via unfavorable trade deals or wars.

We as Americans have proven that we’re fearful enough of other countries to vote down the likes of Eric Cantor. Let’s hope that the World Cup doesn’t whip up our nationalism enough to start another World War One.

Thanks once again to the Medium collection Human Parts. Do yourself a favor and check it out.

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