England made a strong stand on principle ... right up to the moment Fifa flexed its muscles
It should have been a day to luxuriate in the glow of England’s finest ever start to a World Cup finals. And yet, somehow, the national conversation was monopolised by armbands.
With grim predictability, the determination of Gareth Southgate’s team to signal a commitment to equality ran aground even before a ball was kicked, with confirmation that skipper Harry Kane would not be sporting his “One Love” message after all.
The sticking point, for the Football Association and seven other federations who championed the gesture, was the threat of players being booked. The trouble is that when England embraced the rainbow armbands two months ago, they consistently claimed they would stay the course even under the threat of Fifa punishment. That did not hold up for long. At the first suggestion that Kane would receive a yellow card for his gesture, the collective moral resolution faltered.
This was hardly the illustration of soaring leadership that Southgate had been so desperate to offer. On the contrary, it gave the unfortunate impression that England lacked the courage of their convictions. The nagging question remains: if they are so appalled at the notion of competing in stadiums built upon the blood and sacrifice of exploited migrant workers, and so affronted by the customs of Qatar’s ultra-conservative society, then why are they here at all?
The purest exhibition of principle would have been for England and fellow dissenters to stay away. What has arisen in its place is a smorgasbord of gesture politics, from all-black strips to rainbow crests, worthy armbands to a renewed commitment to taking the knee. These were always cosmetic substitutes for cogent protest. And now we learn that the armbands, the centrepiece of a European campaign to demonstrate horror at the Qatari system, will not be worn at all.
Kane had to settle, during England’s 6-2 trouncing of Iran yesterday, for a Fifa-approved armband proclaiming: “No discrimination.” The sentiment was only fractionally less meaningless than the global governing body’s other bromides, which include “bring the moves” and, the even more bizarre, “share the meal”.
England’s captain, a diplomatic soul by nature, could not conceal his dismay. “We’re disappointed,” he said. “We said that we wanted to wear it, but that decision was taken out of my hands ... it’s out of our control as players.”
Asked if he felt angry with Fifa, Kane snapped: “I’m not going to say words to get headlines. I said I was disappointed.” A similar tension was also detectable in Southgate who stopped short of condemning Fifa outright but lamented a failure to reach a “much clearer situation earlier”. This cuts both ways, though. Even at his squad announcement, Southgate claimed no Fifa diktats would stop his team fighting for what was right. His words were quite the antidote to Fifa president Gianni Infantino’s demand that teams should forsake ideological battles. “We are in a position where we do have some influence and we have tried to use it,” Southgate said. “We won’t stop doing so.” And 11 days later, they stopped even before they had started. Southgate’s messaging is often that of an implacable crusader. But in this he comes across as rather a milquetoast.
Nobody is suggesting this is solely his fault. Fifa, whose judgment England have sought so strenuously to defy, are a risible organisation whose president’s scruples are destined to be defined by the immortal line: “Today, I feel gay.” Never mind providing consistent guidance, they have been conspicuous only by their silence. When the eight associations asked them in September if the armbands would be approved, there was no response. That was left until three hours before England’s opening game.
Still, the inconvenient reality is that Southgate was adamant neither he nor his players would be muzzled. This is the nature of conscientious objection: either you follow through with your bold pronouncements or you risk looking weak. England succumbed to this very danger. All the come-hell-orhigh-water rhetoric came unstuck the moment Fifa flexed its muscles.
It was always a fraught proposition, making a clarion call for “One Love” in an Islamic country with strict laws against homosexuality. And Fifa could have done much to make their own rules clearer, rather than leaving England desperately trying to make sense of the ambiguities. But England did not have to leave themselves in such a compromised position.
They did not need to paint themselves into a corner. They wanted to show strength of moral leadership, but folded under the faintest strain. It is a reminder that sometimes in sports diplomacy, discretion is the better part of valour.
‘They wanted to show strength of moral leadership but folded under the faintest strain’