European soccer can do more to stop racism

The right response to racism is zero tolerance. In Spanish soccer, where a stadium packed with mainly white fans erupted in racist taunts targeting a young Black player last month, the reaction has been little more than a slap on the wrist and a shrug — along with a dose of victim-blaming.

By now, it is clear that no serious consequences will befall the soccer team in the Spanish city of Valencia, whose arena became the forum for a mass demonstration of blatant bigotry last month when hundreds or perhaps thousands of fans chanted “mono,” Spanish for monkey, at Vinícius Júnior, the 22-year-old star of the visiting team, Real Madrid. Vinícius Júnior, a Black player from Brazil of surpassing skills and promise, reacted angrily on the field, gesturing at the stands.

Incredibly, some Spanish media commentators suggested his fiery play had somehow “provoked” the crowd. And Javier Tabes, the head of La Liga, Spain’s massively popular top professional soccer division, scolded the player for having failed to attend two previous meetings with officials to discuss racist incidents. Under fire for that clueless remark, he later apologized.

As if the official response wasn’t sufficiently offensive, the Spanish Football Federation then provided a wink and a nod at the racist backlash to a racist incident. The punishment initially imposed by the federation on the Valencia team — a fine of 45,000 euros (about $50,000) and the closure of one set of stadium bleachers for five games — was reduced on appeal to a fine of just 27,000 euros and a bleachers closure of only three games. The team complained that the punishment was “unfair.”

Racism and racist incidents are not new in Spanish or European soccer. Despite Tabes’s efforts to play down the racism in Valencia as what he called one of a number of “isolated incidents,” La Liga admitted it had filed nine legal complaints in the past two seasons stemming from abuse aimed at just Vinícius Júnior, one of some 200 Black players in the division.

“It wasn’t the first time, nor the second, nor the third,” Vinícius Júnior wrote on his social media accounts. “Racism is normal in La Liga. The competition thinks it’s normal; the federation does too, and the opponents encourage it.” Spain, he said, was becoming known in his native Brazil “as a country of racists.”

The toxicity in Valencia triggered an international incident. Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, condemned the episode, as did the U.S. State Department and the United Nations. Spanish police arrested seven individuals suspected of racist acts related to Vinícius Júnior, which may be hate crimes under Spanish law.

The incident should spur sports authorities in Spain and elsewhere to take more severe measures to discipline fans, teams, leagues and national sports federations complicit in maintaining the status quo.

La Liga’s sponsors, which include Adidas, Nike, Puma and other major firms should consider withdrawing their support, lest their brands be tainted by association with bigotry. The league should order teams to play games or, if necessary, entire seasons in empty stadiums if that’s what it takes to transmit the message to fans that racist abuse is intolerable. The league can deduct points from teams whose arenas are venues for racist incidents, threatening their postseason chances, or demote them to lower-ranked divisions. The Union of European Football Associations, soccer’s governing body on the continent, could take steps to ban teams or leagues from international competition. And FIFA, soccer’s international governing body, could signal that further racist outbursts would disqualify Spain from its joint bid — with Portugal, Morocco and possibly Ukraine — to host the 2030 World Cup.

Complacency, the default in the face of past abuse, has been a stain on soccer and society. The sport’s leaders have tools to stamp out racism in their stands. They should use them.