At least we can always count on our hooliganism

FANS of Chinese team Guangzhou have been charged by the Asian Football Confederation after they unfurled a banner with the charming sentiment “Annihilate British Dogs, Eradicate Hong Kong Independence Poison”. The incident took place during a game this week against Eastern, a side from the former colony.

I’m always rather flattered by any sign of foreign hostility towards Britain. That we’re hated surely means we still matter, rather than simply being America’s comedy sidekick. The Chinese football fans in this case were referring to the continuing pro-British sentiments of Hong Kong democracy activists, many of whom apparently would quite willingly return to colonial rule given a choice (which they aren’t, this being China).

And the banner contained an added backhanded compliment, since football hooliganism is perhaps Britain’s most influential cultural export of the late 20th century. Hooliganism began in England in the 1970s. But, like the punk explosion that followed later, it was admired and emulated across much of the world in a rather embarrassing way.

In the former Yugoslavia, where fans of clubs such as Red Star and Partisan took hooliganism a bit far even for Millwall’s standards by forming militias during the country’s civil war, terrifying Serbs would parade the British flag at matches, associating it with a sort of glamorous criminality. England’s ter- race culture has even infected Major League Soccer in the United States. In 2015, supporters of the New York Red Bulls and New York City FC fought in the streets before a game in New Jersey, shouting “Who are ya?” in affected British accents. A number of American soccer fans identify 2as “hooligans” although one such website warned: “Swearing won’t be allowed in organized chants or tolerated in a yelling/ obnoxious fashion.” Which is sort of the point of hooliganism, surely.

Britain has two contradictory overseas images, both of which are admired in their own way, the high and low culture. Many people love Tolkien, C SLewis or

Perhaps we can get Boris to dress up as a football casual on his next mission to promote ‘Brand Britain’

Monty Python, but in the last couple of decades of the 20th century the most popular Englishman abroad was probably Benny Hill.

A friend of mine, travelling through the Far East in his twenties, was staying with a family in rural China when the subject of our famous football hooligans came up. He immediately began to squirm and to explain how they were not representative of English fans before his host interrupted him with “They are warriors!” and raised his glass.

Perhaps we can get Boris to dress up as a football casual on his next overseas diplomatic mission to promote “Brand Britain” and shout “You’re gonna get your head kicked in.” No one likes us, we don’t care.