PREMIER LEAGUE BOYCOTT
WOULD BE SO POWERFUL
IT IS 20 years since Thierry Henry sat on Arsenal’s team bus leaving Valencia’s Estadio Mestalla and wondered if he had done the wrong thing by mentioning the racist abuse he had suffered during the game.
‘I was thinking, “Should I have said that?”. It felt like it was taboo. Some people said, “Did he only mention that because they lost?”. Really? I later scored at Panathinaikos and I stood in front of their fans, arms folded in a stoic manner. They had made monkey noises all night. I was criticised for my celebration, even though I explained why. After that I said, “That can’t be right”.’
Two decades on and the message is the same, only the source of the abuse is different.
‘There has been an evolution in terms of abuse being reported inside the stadium, people became braver,’ he says. ‘But now we have a new problem, the abuse has moved to social media.’
That is why Henry has deactivated all his social media accounts, vowing only to return when changes are made to protect users from racism, bullying and abuse. The 43-year-old is talking to Sportsmail from his north London home, where the iconic image of the black power salute from the 1968 Olympics resides on the wall behind him.
He is animated and impassioned and offers a vivid analogy of his experience on social media.
‘If you go to a restaurant with amazing food and wine but every time you get in a fight, why would you go back? You would say to the owner, “Hey, great food, but I like my nose and teeth. If you don’t sort out who comes in here, put some security on the door, I’m not coming back”.
‘If we do not alert people to the problem then nothing happens. That is why I have taken my own action, not for applause, but to highlight the issue. Social media is a wonderful and important tool, but it needs to be safe.’
Henry wants better accountability where all users are verified by way of official documentation. He does not, he stresses, want to take young people away from those networks. But, at the same time, he is concerned by the ‘like’ culture that dictates the happiness or otherwise of the current generation, including his own daughter.
‘My daughter was complaining to me that people were not reaching her on Instagram. She wanted “likes” and “comments”.
‘I said, “Hold on a minute, weren’t you at school with your friend just now?”. “Yes”. “So you guys talked?”. “Yes”. “So why are you mad that they did not make a comment on your picture?”. It seemed like her day was ruined. A lot of people look for approval on social media.
‘I have seen it as a manager. The first thing players do after the game is check what fans or pundits said about them.
‘The Wales players who were racially abused online last week, Ben Cabango and Rabbi Matondo, they should not have to see that after a game.
‘And the answer is not, “Don’t go on social media”. You need to understand the new generation, not tell them what to do.
‘This is about those in power protecting people’s mental health, and not prioritising copyright infringements. There must be more they can do.’
Henry takes us back to his childhood in the Les Ulis suburb of Paris, where he was not exposed to racism given the diversity of his community. He is making the point that children today are more vulnerable.
‘With the internet, social media, children see more hate, there is more outside influence,’ he says. ‘I had no internet and we had three TV channels. It was only when I was older and started to play football away from my neighbourhood that I thought, “Hold on a minute, it looks like I have disturbed people. They are looking at me like I shouldn’t be here”.’
Our conversation moves on to the old mantra of, ‘Just ignore it, do not let them win’, and it clearly irritates Henry.
‘You should not have to ignore it,’ he states, with some force.
‘When I was racially abused on the field, guys would say, “Thierry, just ignore it”. OK, I ignore it. One time, two times, 20 times. At what point can I have the opportunity not to ignore it? Ignoring it makes it easy for the people who should be taking action.’
To that end, as well as his social media stand, Henry wants clear protocols introduced for when racist abuse occurs during a game.
‘When a player tries to walk off, everyone says, “Don’t go, stay. If you do that, they win”.
‘No, it’s not about that. They will continue to win until the people in charge see what they can do better. Do not leave it to the individual who has been abused.’
Henry believes change would be accelerated were representation at governance level not so demographically narrow. He illustrates his point by asking where I live. Newcastle. ‘OK,’ he begins. ‘If you want to have a conversation about Newcastle and understand what has to change in Newcastle, you need people from Newcastle. Not me, from a suburb of Paris.’ Henry turns to the black power picture over his shoulder, in which African-American athletes Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised a black-gloved fist on the podium. He draws comparison with footballers taking the knee, as he says: ‘Everyone was debating, “Shall we kneel or stand?”. That is not the point. It is about the cause. It is about bringing accountability and change.’ Henry does, though, believe that a one weekend social media boycott led by Premier League clubs and their players would make a statement. ‘You should never underestimate the strength of the pack. Can that (a weekend boycott) be powerful? Yes, very.’ Fast forward 12 months, or even five years, and what does Henry want to be talking about? ‘I don’t have the power to change the rules or to block hate. But that is what I want to see. It’s over to those with power now — only they can make the difference we need.’