When the Iranian national team refuse to sing their national anthem to support protesters back in their home country; when hundreds of footballers follow NFL quarterback Colin Kaepernick and take a knee at the start of their matches, they join a long tradition of protest. Maybe the most iconic moment was created by Tommie Smith and John Carlos, two American sprinters who raised their fists at the 1968 Olympics in protest at racism and injustice in their communities. Their freedom to speak, the risk they each took to protest, has helped shape sport’s role in our society.
You will know that going into this World Cup, several national federations and their teams had planned to wear a familiar rainbow armband – one they had worn in previous competitions. This was a simple and modest gesture – they wanted to shun prejudice and show solidarity with millions of people around the world who are not free to love whom they want. What followed – threats of sanctions against players, scrambling for answers by the federations – revealed the friction between players and the various sporting institutions, and an inability to look beyond their political wrangling to the values that might unite them.
Overnight, a symbol of support became a source of institutional controversy – without a backup plan for that eventuality. And as often happens, the buck was passed to the players. We saw uncertainty about the level of sanction players might face (yellow cards? Match bans? Worse?), inconsistent messages from the federations and silence from those who could have taken clear decisions months before.
But how did it come to this? Why did a gesture of support meet such resistance? Why were players left to feel isolated when their actions came from a place of dignity and respect? “I don’t feel comfortable, and that is telling enough,” Belgium’s Jan Vertonghen said, as he struggled to understand – prior to his team’s elimination – whether speaking on matters of human rights might have led to his suspension from the tournament.
There is an easy answer – that everything stems from the decision to host in Qatar. But that avoids deeper challenges that will remain beyond this World Cup. Peel away the details of the armband saga and we find, at its core, two questions. First, what are the values that sport will truly embrace and defend when it claims to be a unifying influence in a fragmenting world? And why are the players whose conduct on the field is regulated, who are called on to represent those values, not at the table when the rules and decisions are made that have such an impact on their sport?
The latter question shows a repeated failure of football’s governance system to listen and share power with the very people who bring the sport to life, on the pitch. A failure, ultimately, to open the decision-making to the people it directly affects.
But the former question is more sensitive and complex than most reporting and commentary would have us believe. Major international sports events have never been free of geopolitics; propaganda, protests and boycotts are part of their history. And when the organiser strives to impose its identity and a single set of rules – not only to protect its commercial interests but also to provide a meeting point that is open to all – it might pursue a legitimate goal. But only if it accepts that all sport is rooted – deeply – in the society that feeds it.
Whatever the intention, any bid to isolate sport from our fundamental rights, as codified in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, ratified by all governments of the nations competing in this World Cup, and enshrined in the statutes of Fifa, is to abandon one of the few common standards available and to miss the rare opportunity of an equal framework for all people around the world. Sports organisations need to understand that their commitment to neutrality in matters of politics or religion cannot be applied to human rights. Inaction, or purported neutrality on matters of human rights, is a deeply political choice.
When we see sport’s place at the heart of our society, we see more clearly the role of our athletes: they are centre-stage, playing out the drama, channelling our emotions, even as they build their own professional careers. Theirs is a world that brings great rewards for some but also the demands of public life.
As an international trade union that represents 65,000 players around the world, our job is to protect their human rights, social conditions and economic prospects. We help them to excel as athletes, workers, colleagues, citizens, public figures and, above all, as human beings.
But the expectations placed upon those players today are neither fair nor realistic. In any group of people you find some who want to speak and take a stance for what is bigger than themselves, and others who do not, even though they share the same values. Why would football players be any different? Many do want to talk, but freely, on their own terms, and independent of the decisions in which they have no say, of their federations, clubs or leagues.
But if we ask them to find their voice, surely we must also respect their right to silence. Every player remains, first and foremost, a professional athlete. No one should coerce them into a public role they do not want; but if they do want to assume that role, they have the same right to do so as anyone else.
This World Cup has put a harsh spotlight on all these difficult challenges. But the players and coaches are not alone. While much of the globe grapples with economic and social conflict, inequality and a growing sense of divorce from the decisions that shape our lives, the old models of closed, top-down governance are reaching their limits. Citizens of the most diverse societies are demanding a louder voice. Today, sport faces the very same challenge – from its players, its fans, and the general public.
Players are now finding their voice – individually and collectively – in a system that for so long wanted them silent. Sports federations should embrace this – genuinely, openly, urgently – and share the stewardship of the game with those at the heart of it.
Perhaps that will help us rediscover the spirit of humanity that many feel is lacking within our sporting institutions. Open the door, give players a say.
Jonas Baer-Hoffmann is general secretary of the international professional football players’ union Fifpro
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