I was given “How Fascism Works” by Jason Stanley for Christmas by a family member based on our recent discussions on current political trends and how they are manifesting in many areas of life not normally considered political.
As I read it this morning (instead of watching the other PL matches), I realised that the fury that I still feel over this incident, and how it has further degraded my love of football—which has been one of the (if not the) most consistently important facets of my life since I was a young lad—is based at least partly on my rejection of similar tactics used by developing fascist regimes.
Under most dictators, part of the power originates from being able to do things, including making up rules as they go, with the knowledge there will be no meaningful challenge or dissent. In fact, some of the actions undertaken at times is for the sole purpose of demonstrating that sort of “I will do this and you will accept it without question” control. For the common person, it is intended to destroy their understanding of objective truth, fairness, and their belief in agency. It is meant to cultivate a powerlessness that will eventually lead to blind compliance.
And, whilst this is of course at a substantially lower level of consequence, the principle is very similar. With every blatantly farcical decision like the one yesterday, and the immediate mobilisation of the football industrial complex to legitimise it, a very similar degradation of our will to dissent (or even question as contrary to objective truth) is realised. Each time a little more of fans’ resolve to challenge incompetence and potential corruption is chipped away. Little-by-little, over time, we become more jaded and, if we persist in engaging with the product, more compliant. We resign ourselves to it just being “the way it is”. We accept the unfairness as natural and unavoidable. Perhaps even necessary for things to function.
You can see it in some of our comments after the match: “we just have to play better so they can’t cheat us”, “we’ve been shafted, it’s done, we need to move on”, “be happy it wasn’t worse”, “it’s up for interpretation, so even though it’s never been given before and will likely never be given again, we have to accept it”. We’re slowly conceding any expectation of equitable treatment or adherence to the standards of fair competition.
I say all of this to provide a different context for why it is infuriating, the cumulative effects of these incidents, and how it can actually be a tool for further manipulation. I don’t want it be construed that I think they are equally important — your club being potentially cheated out of points or silverware and the oppression under fascist regimes are not remotely of the same level of significance.
But there are, in my mind, common and unfortunate themes between how such regimes and how sport governing bodies operate these days. These are well tested and oft successful strategies for a reason. And it’s important to recognise and challenge even lesser importance applications of such tactics, especially when it comes to efforts to destroy the concept of objective fairness, when you see them manifesting.
That is especially as sport (and indeed football) has been used in the past to seed and legitimise these abhorrent mechanisms. It can be an effective route for more impactful control. And we have plenty of examples of such tactics being employed elsewhere these days. They are insidious.
It needs to be challenged at every level or it becomes the default.