Turkey targets soccer match-fixing
Some of the biggest names in Turkish soccer are on trial in a massive campaign against alleged match-fixing.
The trial is still in its early stages, but already has proved to be a raucous event, much like Turkish soccer games themselves. A harbinger of how it would unfold came on its first day, Feb. 14, when thousands of fans showed up outside the court, not to pillory the suspects but to cheer them on.
The investigation, dubbed “Clean Cleats” by the Turkish news media, has ensnared 93 officials, players and coaches, including the president of one of Istanbul’s most prestigious teams.
The question is to what extent the country wants to believe that many of its sports heroes are crooked, and whether Turks, fans and members of parliament alike, really care to crack down at all.
At the root of the investigation is the alleged involvement of organized-crime figures in the sport, which is a multibillion-dollar business in Turkey.
The major focus is on Aziz Yildirim, president of Istanbul’s prestigious Fenerbahceclub. He is charged in the 400-page indictment with attempting to manipulate the outcome of 13 games last year, arranging for “favorable” referees and promising money, vacations and luxury cars to players to play well or badly, depending on his need. In May, he allegedly ordered his aides to pay one player 100,000 euros before a match, a charge he vehemently denies.
Match-fixing is nothing new in the world of soccer. In the last year there have been scandals in Italy, South Korea, Israel, Finland and Greece. But the number of people indicted sets Turkey apart.
Turkish sportswriter Erman Toroglu calls the investigation and trial “a milestone for the salvation of Turkish football.”
The case has exploded while Turkey also tries to get a grip on rampant fan hooliganism.
Fights and stabbings are common at games, and chants often can’t be repeated in polite company.
Last year, Turkish soccer officials came up with a novel way to address severe rowdiness: Teams now face the punishment of having only women and young children allowed in the stands, and they get to watch for free.
In September, Fenerbahce played before a home crowd of 41,000 women and children, who greeted the opposing club from Manisa with applause rather than the usual loud, profane booing.
Soccer has had a firm hold on Turkey since it was introduced by British merchants in the 19th century. The Ottoman sultan initially banned Turks — but not Greek, Armenian and Jewish minorities — from playing the game. But it was only a matter of time before it became part of the country’s culture.
Ahmet Talimciler, one of the few sports psychologists in Turkey, said soccer now helps bolster national identity, particularly when Turkish clubs play European teams. He said it’s the reason for one of the more popular chants when Turkish teams play opponents from Europe.
“Europe, Europe hear our voice. This is the sound of the Turks’ footsteps,” goes the chant, words that are likely to echo in some parts of the continent that were under Turkish rule for centuries.
The parliament can’t seem to figure out its role in the world of soccer and match-fixing. Last year, it imposed strict penalties on anyone convicted of matchfixing, with a maximum sentence of 12 years. But in December, in the aftermath of the arrests, it voted to sharply reduce the sentences to three years.
A veto by President Abdullah Gul, who said the decision to reduce the sentences “gave the impression of a special arrangement,” was overridden.
In a speech, Sports Minister Suat Kilic rejected accusations that the country’s political parties were under pressure from soccer clubs to reduce the sentences. But he acknowledged receiving a letter signed by 18 club presidents calling for the reduced sentencing.
Yildirim, the president of the Fenerbahce club, who may be the most powerful man in Turkish soccer, has been in jail since he and the others were indicted in July. He contends that the trial is a politically motivated attempt to remove him from the sport after leading Fenerbahce for 14 years.
“I’ll jump off a bridge if they can prove it,” Yildirim said during a break in the trial.
“They say match-fixing. What match-fixing? This country is getting out of hand, but all they talk about is match-fixing.”
Talimciler, the sports psychologist, says the huge amount of money changing hands is a major reason that soccer has become tainted. And, he said, the trial has moved talk of soccer beyond just sports.
“The trial has increased the importance of soccer on the national agenda,” he said. “The nation is almost divided into two: people who demand the punishment of match fixers on one side, and people saying there was no match-fixing so there cannot be punishment, on the other.” Kennedy is a special correspondent.