Copa Libertadores final emerges from flames of unrest

The decision to play this year’s Copa Libertadores final, the first ever onelegged decider in the competition’s history, in Santiago appeared logical. The city’s Estadio Nacional was newly renovated and Chile hadn’t had a finalist since 1993, so a comfortable and neutral ground for the final was all but assured. And, perhaps more importantly, Chile was still the mark of dependability in a perennially unstable region.

After all, Chileans are known as the Germans of Latin America – the stereotype portrays them as stoical and organised – and economically the country saw a drop in its poverty rate from 30% to 6.4% in just 17 years. Conmebol was desperate to right last year’s debacle that forced the final from Argentina to Madrid, and Santiago looked like the perfect venue for the association to showcase its premier product to the global market.

And then, in one afternoon this October, the plan fell apart and, for the second year in a row, Conmebol was forced to move the final thousands of kilometres from its original venue. It all started when a government decision to hike subway fares by 30 Chilean pesos (four US cents) dug up the inequality that had been festering in the country for decades, despite apparent outward progress. Students started jumping subway turnstiles in protest, and huge crowds took to the streets with chants of “It’s not 30 pesos, it’s 30 years”, a reference to the length of discontent in the country. Twenty-two subway stations were torched, and a state of emergency was declared. On the football field, the Chilean league was suspended.

For sympathisers, the violence and President Sebastián Piñera’s response – he described the country being “at war against a very powerful enemy” – brought back unwelcome memories of the authoritarian government of Augusto Pinochet in the 1970s. The Estadio Nacional also holds its own ghosts. After the 1973 coup that brought Pinochet to power, thousands of his opponents were imprisoned in the stadium – with scores tortured, beaten or executed.

Still, despite the turmoil, the Chilean government pressed on with plans for the final. “It’s a great sporting festivity that does good to the country,” said Cecilia Pérez, the Chilean sports minister, just a week after protestors

Rafael Santos Borré (left) and Gabriel Barbosa (right), both center forwards, could be game defining. Illustration: Guardian Design/Getty

Flamengo fans see off the squad with a party called the “Aerofla” before their trip to Lima. Photograph: Wagner Meier/Getty Images