Football 1, Islamic State 0 – rejoice in the score
existences, die violent, worthless deaths. This was their chance at life and they squandered it, brought pain and misery to the gentle and innocent.
Terrorism makes the world a harsher place.
Random, indiscriminate violence is the worst kind. Nobody in the Bataclan venue will have imagined their Friday night could be a target, like the politicised offices of Charlie Hebdo or even a national symbol such as the Stade de France. So there is fear now because nowhere feels safe. Yet, for all that, we win.
In the coming days there will be much talk of hope and defiance and solidarity, while at Wembley the focus was on the healing, inspirational qualities of sport, its power to bring people together, to find shared humanity.
And all of this is valid. Football can do those things, and the message that was sent by French, English and fans of many countries is strong. Yet we have come to expect that.
Football is perfectly equipped to deal with solemnity and sadness, with respect and remembrance, as the ceremonies held at grounds around the country in November each year continue to prove.
The real victory can be found when all that is over, or before it has begun, when fans spill out of bars, or into restaurants or walk down the street laughing and singing and letting loose. That’s when we win. When it’s heavy enough for boys and sweet enough for girls: when it’s a party.
In an article for Rolling Stone in 1989, PJ O’Rourke summed up the death of communism as a triumph for those trite Western freedoms, the meaningless stuff we take for granted.
“In the end, we beat them with Levi 501 jeans,” he wrote. “Seventy-two years of communist indoctrination and propaganda was drowned out by a three-ounce Sony Walkman. A huge totalitarian system has been brought to its knees because nobody wants to wear Bulgarian shoes. Now they’re lunch, and we’re No 1 on the planet.”
And that’s just it with Islamic State (IS). We’ve seen their way, their bastardised betrayal of Islamism. It’s been around for years. No one wants it. That’s why they’re trying to get here.
Tens of thousands of people chanting “Germany, Germany” and pressing into Europe while we can name confused jihadi brides going in the opposite direction.
Look at the targets in France: humourists, artists, music lovers, sportsgoers, diners, all forms of fun and expression, freedom of movement, of thought, of choice, the celebrations of life, the evolution of a species beyond barbarism and primitive instinct.
That is our victory and it is won every day. The results are in. House music 1, IS 0. Football 1, IS 0. Women’s rights 1, IS 0. Gay rights 1, IS 0. Life 1, IS 0.
We are out there. We’re evolving. We are taking it all in. We are not as good as imprisoned inside a compound in Abbottabad waiting to be grassed up to the Marines and gunned down or evaporated.
We are not part of some sordid cell in Molenbeek plotting the random slaughter of young people who knew what to do with their brief time on Earth.
We are not in some sandblown, hellhole shacked up with a halfwit former grocery store security guard, now reinvented as a mujahidin avenger, chucking gay people off rooftops and living a subservient existence in the addled belief this is the service of God.
You win every day, because you don’t live like that. You win every day because this is civilisation – a great civilisation – and you are part of it.
We can hold hands and sing La Marseillaise and tweet wellintended but ultimately trite hashtags about praying for Paris, or sad-eyed dogs, but it means nothing really.
No terrorist has ever laid down weapons because he was moved by public empathy for his victims. That is the great sin, the great weakness, of terrorists, that they are without this most valuable human quality.
They cannot place themselves in the shoes of those at the Bataclan, or innocently watching the football.
They cannot comprehend the utter ghastliness and futility of their actions, the revulsion that is felt, the cycle of violence it engenders, the collateral damage that spreads from the scorched middle.
How we win is by carrying on, not in a gesture of defiance or solidarity, but because we can.
It isn’t just the minute’s silence or the national anthems that were special at Wembley; every step you take is precious, every step is a victory, because you have the freedom to exist any damn way you choose, and you make the most of it, while you’re here.
That way, as Homme said, everyone’s happy and it’s more of a party. And, once again, we will win. – Daily Mail