I was in a shop in the bustling old part of Alexandria, haggling over the price of a tablecloth, when I noticed that a few of the staff were gazing at a TV screen with expressions of horror. I didn’t initially understand what was happening but was amazed to see a furious sports commentator yelling at viewers while one of his co-hosts sat cradling his head in his hands. The scene was so extraordinary, the behaviour of the anchors so unprofessional, that for a moment I thought I was watching a movie. But this was no movie.
Egyptians love their football, although it must be said that passions cooled subsequent to the revolution, as many fans believed that the Mubarak regime had used the game to distract the population from economic woes and divert their anger away from government. At the time, the ardour of some fans diminished for the game because a few of their favourite players had initially displayed support for President Hosni Mubarak. However, in recent months, whenever there is a prominent match the streets are once again deserted as people stay glued to their sets at home or cram into cafes to cheer on their side.
Last Wednesday, just about everyone in Egypt witnessed Al Masri supporters armed with batons, knives and, by some accounts, firearms stream onto the pitch following their team’s win against Egypt’s answer to Manchester United—Al Ahli. The game had been a David-and-Goliath-type battle with the underdog coming up trumps. No-one could have been surprised at the fans’ excitement but the shock was that some 13,000 ‘celebrated’ their team’s win by attacking Al Ahli’s loyal supporters known as “the Ultras” who had travelled from Cairo to Port Said for the match.
At least 74 lost their lives on that terrible evening; the victims were battered, stabbed or crushed to death. Al Ahli fans carried some of the injured into their team’s changing room where a few drew their last breath. Three Al Ahli players—Mohammad Abu Trika, Mohammad Barakat and Emad Moteab—are so traumatised and disgusted at the violence that they’ve sworn never to play football again. “People here are dying and no one is doing a thing. It’s like a war. Is life this cheap?” said Abu Trika.
Violence is no stranger to Egyptian soccer matches. Al Ahli and Al Masri are archrivals and their supporters have clashed on previous occasions. And in 2009, when the Algerian international team faced off against Egypt the Algerian players’ bus came under attack, leaving five injured. However, there has been nothing on the scale of last Wednesday’s mayhem, which went way beyond the kind of football hooliganism that is a scourge on the sport in various parts of the world.
The incident has both shamed and perplexed ordinary Egyptians; most people have more questions than answers. If hooliganism is to blame, it’s hard to fathom why supporters of a successful side would turn on their rivals. Moreover, when security in and around football stadiums all over Egypt is normally so stringent, people are asking how so many got in with weapons.
What’s making Egyptians especially angry is the fact that riot police stood back and did nothing as the carnage was underway, which is why large crowds have been gathering outside the Ministry of Interior braving an onslaught of tear gas fired by police protecting the building. Such barbarity on the part of fans and the inaction of police is so extraordinary that it’s no wonder a number of conspiracy theories have been spawned. The most popular hangs on remnants of the Mubarak regime having paid thugs to stir up trouble on the pitch so that Egyptians will be persuaded to relinquish democracy in exchange for security.
Another, I’ve heard from more than one person, is that the Muslim Brotherhood was behind the violence to agitate the street into continuing with demonstrations against military rule. If that’s true, then it’s worked.
Then there’s the one about the police having taken revenge on the Ultras who were fearlessly on the front lines of the January 25 revolution battling riot police.
Until now, nobody knows for sure what really happened. But if I had to hazard a guess, I would say there is a strong probability that the violence was premeditated and was planned by a third party out to see Egypt brought to its knees. As for the inappropriate behaviour of the police force, I think they stayed out of it because they were frightened. The police, who were always perceived to be the brutal arm of Mubarak, are still hated. Moreover, they are ill-trained in crowd control and were probably intimidated by such large rabid numbers. After the revolution, the public overcame the fear factor that the police thrived on and this has resulted in a lack of law and order all over the country. An Egyptian friend of mine confided that he has never in his life felt this insecure.
As the blame game goes on, Egyptians need to take stock. Their revolution was their proudest moment but one year on, they’ve little to feel proud about. Perhaps it’s time to quit the protests, quit the strikes, quit the political argument long enough to join hands and work together to make their common dreams of freedom, security and prosperity come true.
Linda S. Heard is a British specialist writer on Middle East affairs. She welcomes feedback and can be contacted by email at heardonthegrapevines@yahoo.co.uk.
Hooliganism or something more sinister?
Posted on February 8, 2012 by Linda S. Heard
I was in a shop in the bustling old part of Alexandria, haggling over the price of a tablecloth, when I noticed that a few of the staff were gazing at a TV screen with expressions of horror. I didn’t initially understand what was happening but was amazed to see a furious sports commentator yelling at viewers while one of his co-hosts sat cradling his head in his hands. The scene was so extraordinary, the behaviour of the anchors so unprofessional, that for a moment I thought I was watching a movie. But this was no movie.
Egyptians love their football, although it must be said that passions cooled subsequent to the revolution, as many fans believed that the Mubarak regime had used the game to distract the population from economic woes and divert their anger away from government. At the time, the ardour of some fans diminished for the game because a few of their favourite players had initially displayed support for President Hosni Mubarak. However, in recent months, whenever there is a prominent match the streets are once again deserted as people stay glued to their sets at home or cram into cafes to cheer on their side.
Last Wednesday, just about everyone in Egypt witnessed Al Masri supporters armed with batons, knives and, by some accounts, firearms stream onto the pitch following their team’s win against Egypt’s answer to Manchester United—Al Ahli. The game had been a David-and-Goliath-type battle with the underdog coming up trumps. No-one could have been surprised at the fans’ excitement but the shock was that some 13,000 ‘celebrated’ their team’s win by attacking Al Ahli’s loyal supporters known as “the Ultras” who had travelled from Cairo to Port Said for the match.
At least 74 lost their lives on that terrible evening; the victims were battered, stabbed or crushed to death. Al Ahli fans carried some of the injured into their team’s changing room where a few drew their last breath. Three Al Ahli players—Mohammad Abu Trika, Mohammad Barakat and Emad Moteab—are so traumatised and disgusted at the violence that they’ve sworn never to play football again. “People here are dying and no one is doing a thing. It’s like a war. Is life this cheap?” said Abu Trika.
Violence is no stranger to Egyptian soccer matches. Al Ahli and Al Masri are archrivals and their supporters have clashed on previous occasions. And in 2009, when the Algerian international team faced off against Egypt the Algerian players’ bus came under attack, leaving five injured. However, there has been nothing on the scale of last Wednesday’s mayhem, which went way beyond the kind of football hooliganism that is a scourge on the sport in various parts of the world.
The incident has both shamed and perplexed ordinary Egyptians; most people have more questions than answers. If hooliganism is to blame, it’s hard to fathom why supporters of a successful side would turn on their rivals. Moreover, when security in and around football stadiums all over Egypt is normally so stringent, people are asking how so many got in with weapons.
What’s making Egyptians especially angry is the fact that riot police stood back and did nothing as the carnage was underway, which is why large crowds have been gathering outside the Ministry of Interior braving an onslaught of tear gas fired by police protecting the building. Such barbarity on the part of fans and the inaction of police is so extraordinary that it’s no wonder a number of conspiracy theories have been spawned. The most popular hangs on remnants of the Mubarak regime having paid thugs to stir up trouble on the pitch so that Egyptians will be persuaded to relinquish democracy in exchange for security.
Another, I’ve heard from more than one person, is that the Muslim Brotherhood was behind the violence to agitate the street into continuing with demonstrations against military rule. If that’s true, then it’s worked.
Then there’s the one about the police having taken revenge on the Ultras who were fearlessly on the front lines of the January 25 revolution battling riot police.
Until now, nobody knows for sure what really happened. But if I had to hazard a guess, I would say there is a strong probability that the violence was premeditated and was planned by a third party out to see Egypt brought to its knees. As for the inappropriate behaviour of the police force, I think they stayed out of it because they were frightened. The police, who were always perceived to be the brutal arm of Mubarak, are still hated. Moreover, they are ill-trained in crowd control and were probably intimidated by such large rabid numbers. After the revolution, the public overcame the fear factor that the police thrived on and this has resulted in a lack of law and order all over the country. An Egyptian friend of mine confided that he has never in his life felt this insecure.
As the blame game goes on, Egyptians need to take stock. Their revolution was their proudest moment but one year on, they’ve little to feel proud about. Perhaps it’s time to quit the protests, quit the strikes, quit the political argument long enough to join hands and work together to make their common dreams of freedom, security and prosperity come true.
Linda S. Heard is a British specialist writer on Middle East affairs. She welcomes feedback and can be contacted by email at heardonthegrapevines@yahoo.co.uk.