Suits and Soldiers

Suits and Soldiers

Celtic’s tumultuous late win over Lazio on Thursday night demonstrated why there are few places in Europe which can match Celtic Park on those European occasions. The noise which pours from the stands onto the pitch at times is incredible and there is no doubt that it lifts the players to greater exertions. Make no mistake about it this was a victory gained against a streetwise and very professional side who know well how to break up the play and interrupt Celtic’s rhythm. They are also defensively strong and tactically astute so Celtic’s win was earned the hard way. There were times in the middle of the game when Celtic sagged a little but the team never stopped fighting, pressing and harrying the Italians and in the end got their rewards.

The Italian sporting press was generally complimentary to Celtic and their supporters with leading newspaper Gazzetta Dello Sport saying…

‘Before the starting whistle there was a unique show, a display of lights to illuminate the stadium. White and green are the only colours and a shiver runs along your back when the whole stadium raises the scarves and sings ‘You'll never walk alone.’  It was an explosion of emotions that many Lazio people immortalized with smartphones. Then the choreography of the Green Brigade paints area 111, where the heart of the green-and-white fans resides. Then the deafening and frantic scream of Paradise is heard. Not surprisingly one of the three hottest stadiums in Britain.’

The Italian press were quick to pick up on the political nature of the day’s events and most were critical of the ‘Roman salute’ Lazio fans had engaged in as they marched through Glasgow to the stadium. One report stated…

‘We again saw Roman greetings in Glasgow, before the Europa League match against Celtic. The ultras of Lazio, on the road, were immortalized by a user - who shared the video on Twitter - while they were singing the chorus "Avanti ragazzi di Buda"(an anti-communist song about the Hungarian uprising of 1956) in the city centre. All seasoned with Roman greetings much to the perplexity of passers-by.  What has happened is not surprising, given that the Lazio region has always had the reputation of being linked to extremism on the right.’

The reaction of some Celtic supporters came in for comment too with the ‘Lazio F**k off’ banner and one depicting Mussolini hanging by his feet after his execution by partisans in 1945 particularly prominent. One Italian newspaper said that the Celtic fans obviously knew who was coming to town and were prepared in advance. It was too good an opportunity to miss in terms of demonstrating the anti-fascist and anti-racist sentiment at the heart of the Celtic ultra-culture.

The rise of the ultra -groups among most of the big clubs in Europe combined with the ease of modern communication has meant that fans are much more aware of the political leanings of elements of each club and have developed loose alliances as well as arbitrary lists of those clubs whose supporters think very differently about politics. Thus Celtic’s ultras having fraternal links with the likes of St Pauli, Livorno or Feyenoord but are unlikely to have much time for the likes of Lazio, Hamburg or Ajax. Of course when viewed through a political spectrum such black and white reductionism ignores the fact that all clubs have a wide view of political opinion among their support base. Lazio do have a problem with racism and fascist attitudes among some of their fans but to say all of them are fascists is not borne out by facts. Similarly there are Celtic fans who don’t always agree with the messages on banners they see at Celtic Park. To the unthinking though the messages they see and hear from ultra-groups defines their opinion of a club and all of its fans and that can have consequences.

In two weeks upwards of 10,000 Celtic fans will descend on Rome for the return match with Lazio. It will of course give many a chance to visit a fascinating city and I’m sure places like the Vatican, Colosseum and Forum will see their share of hooped shirts. There will also be a huge police operation to ensure those visiting the city remain safe. Violence is not something Celtic fans go looking for at football, especially their trips around Europe but it is a sad fact of life in Italian football. Tobias Jones, a British author who specialises in writing about the dark world of Italian ultras wrote….

‘As with many Italians, the ultras are fixated on appearance and pageantry; for major games they spend tens of thousands of euros on stadium mosaics, taunts, flags and flares. In that sense the ultra-world seems folkloric; the ultra-world view in Italy is a faux-medieval defence of their ‘campanilisimo (attachment to the local bell tower). In fact many ultras say they care nothing for football, it’s about territorial defence, the colours, the fights and the mentality.’

Italy was only unified in 1871 and remains a country of fierce regional rivalries. This finds expression in football rivalries as well as politics and the many Italian ultra-groups are overtly political. They are also organised on scale as yet unseen in the UK. Some have their own clothing ranges while a few have their own radio stations. Italy’s parliamentary anti-mafia committee concluded that some ultra-groups use ‘mafia methods’ and are involved in petty and serious crime. The head of Lazio’s ‘Irriducibili’ group was recently convicted of dealing hundreds of kilos of cocaine.

Ticket touting is also an issue as some clubs actually give Ultra-groups tickets to keep them ‘sweet’ as they can do without problems with UEFA when they misbehave. One Juventus capo-ultra was said to be making £25,000 a game on tickets given to his group by the club. The ultras make money and the club is untroubled by hooliganism. It’s an arrangement between ‘suits and soldiers’ which seems to suit them all.

The goading and taunting which went on between some Celtic and Lazio supporters at the game last week was a minor distraction to the majority of fans who were there to watch the football. Hopefully there are no problems in Rome when Celtic visit in a fortnight but it is wise for supporters travelling there to be careful and be aware of their surroundings. Spurs fans were attacked there 2012 for being ‘Jewish’ and abhorrent Anne Frank stickers were used to insult rival teams only a year ago. Most Lazio fans will be there for the football but a minority will have seen the display of banners at Celtic Park and will have taken note. This is where fan groups need to be careful with displays as they can cause problems for others who had nothing to do with them.

I hope the match in Rome is remembered for the football, the passion and colour of the Celtic support and nothing else. Well, maybe a good result for the Hoops too.

Have you no honour?

Have you no honour?

There is a scene in the epic historical drama ‘Troy’ when old King Priam of Troy watches in horror as the Greek warriors swarm into his holiest temple and begin smashing the statues and killing anyone who crosses their path. He shouts at them over and over, ‘have you no honour?’ In their bloodlust and frenzy they don’t hear him and continue the slaughter.

This week social media echoed to the recriminations of another revelation about a coach who abused young footballers. For years Celtic supporters have put up with fans of various clubs chanting about paedophilia in a most despicable manner.  A sizable group among the Rangers support was perhaps loudest in this due to their sheer numbers but they were not alone. It was and remains contemptable to point score over the abuse of young footballers. Young lives were blighted by these wicked men and it is totally abhorrent to use it as a stick to beat a rival club.

The revelations about what occurred at Ibrox in the 1990s sadly came as no surprise but instead of a depressing shake of the head and kind words for the victims, a minority sought a cheap and tawdry revenge. I can well understand the anger that the constant ‘weaponising’ of child abuse provokes in some Celtic supporters but to respond in kind simply lowers yourself to the gutter inhabited by those with no moral compass. It saddens me to see Celtic supporters respond in kind to the moronic jibes they themselves have endured for years.

How easy it is to become that which we claim to despise…

Any cursory search of the internet will soon teach us that these predators exist in all walks of life, all lands, all social classes, all faiths and none. They seek out the vulnerable and powerless, the weak and lost and exploit them for their own twisted purposes. All sympathy must go to the victims and the full force of the law must come crashing down on the perpetrators’ heads. Decent people would never contemplate using these crimes as a basis for point scoring at a football match or in conversations online. These crimes are a problem for our society and indeed for all mankind. No group or sect is free from abusers and it is everyone’s job to be vigilant and help protect the vulnerable.

The internet can be an ugly place at times and the anonymity it affords brings out the worse in some. Footballing rivalries often lead to harsh words online but the Celtic – Rangers rivalry goes way beyond most in that it is a complicated layer of football, politics, identity and history. The depth of naked hatred a minority feel for these two clubs means that nothing is off limits when it comes to goading the opposition. Thus we see a complete lack of balance and conformation bias on an industrial scale when any opportunity presents itself. This occurs when one drunken moron singing about Lee Rigby or some fool cursing the pope is passed off as typical of the whole group when nothing could be further from the truth. Or when a few folk for whatever reason don’t respect a minute’s silence and the thousands who did are ignored or tarred with the same brush. Conformation bias dictates that we seek evidence which supports our pre conceived bias and ignore any evidence which doesn’t. Thus as German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer observed…

"An adopted hypothesis gives us lynx-eyes for everything that confirms it and makes us blind to everything that contradicts it."

We human beings stereotype whole groups with our bias, subconscious or not. On social media platforms the ‘filter bubble’ magnifies this effect further as the ‘algorithmic editing’ cuts our diverse opinions and leaves us all in an echo chamber of like-minded voices. It’s important that we remain brave enough to call out in our friends that which we so readily condemn in our adversaries. The bitterness we see at times from a vociferous minority in Scottish football poisons the well for us all. It isn’t about the team you follow or the politics you hold to; it’s about decent people saying ‘that’s enough’ when the less inhibited go too far. This deplorable online ‘tit for tat’ debate on child abuse very often goes too far and the victims are reduced to pawns in a slanging match.

The National Association For People Abused In Childhood (NAPAC) suggests that one in 5 people will have experienced some sort of abuse in childhood. This abuse may have been physical, psychological, emotional or sexual. For some it is a combination of them all. Those who make a public display about such issues without thinking for a moment about the victims are reprehensible. The chances are that those who chant about such things at football will have survivors of abuse standing near them. Just as those who use abuse to attack others online will never know the hurt they cause victims who read their comments.

I love football; it’s a great game when played well. It also brings out genuine passions and rivalries which add to the spectacle. But there are some who lose their sense of decency when it comes to interacting with rivals. It’s not clever, it’s not funny and it’s not decent to chant about child abuse at a football match nor is it ever acceptable to use it to attack a whole community when those to blame are the perpetrators of these crimes and no one else. There is no guilt by association although lessons must be learned about how those who commit such crimes can be prevented from gaining access to our youngsters.

It was disheartening to see the slanging match on social media this week but there were those brave enough to say, ‘that’s enough- this isn’t an issue which football supporters should be using in this manner.’ There will always be a minority who don’t give a damn though and they are probably beyond redemption. Old King Priam would be wasting his breath asking them ‘have you no honour?’

 For the decent majority though, there is a responsibility to the victims of abuse to see that their suffering isn’t compounded by tolerating online slanging matches. This is about real people suffering. We should be much better than this.

Boys Keep Swinging

Boys Keep Swinging

John Doolin looked around the walls of the suite at Celtic Park where he was meeting a few friends for lunch before the league deciding game with Rangers; Brendan Rodgers’ side had swept all before them again and looked on course for a second straight treble. The walls were adorned with images of Celtic greats from the past and as life moved on and he got older he smiled to think just how many of those Celtic players he had seen play. ‘Getting old Johnny boy,’ he said to himself as he pushed open the door and entered the already busy Kerrydale Suite. He could hear the buzz of supporters ready for a game which could see Celtic clinch the title against their biggest rivals. Above the laughter and noise he could hear David Bowie’s distinctive voice coming from invisible speakers singing, ‘Boys keep swinging.’ He sure hoped these Bhoys would be swinging today.

His lifelong friend Paddy Murray waved him over to a table which was already boisterous and happy. Paddy’s boyhood red hair was now mostly grey and a fading scar on his left cheek reminded Johnny of a less happy time in their youth. ‘Aw right Johnny boy? Come and have a seat.’ A bottle of beer was pressed into his hand and he sat. ‘We’re just been asking what was the best league winning day you’ve attended? Alfie says Love Street in 86. Geezer goes for the centenary year against Dundee and big Tony reckons it was last year’s invincible season. What do you think?’ John smiled, ‘Ah that’s an easy wan Paddy. You’ll remember it well mate because you were with me,’ As he began to speak, his mind drifted back almost forty years to a very different Glasgow and a very different Celtic Park…

Glasgow 1979

‘Ma have ye seen my scarf?’ sixteen year old Johnny Doolin called into the kitchen. ‘I don’t think ye should wear a scarf tonight John. You know what that lot are like.’ Johnny sighed, ‘I’ll keep it under my coat till I get tae the game, noo where is it?’ His mother entered the living room of their second floor flat and pointed towards a cupboard with a sigh, ‘It’s in there, son but promise me you’ll be careful.’ He opened the cupboard and found she’d secreted his Celtic scarf in a plastic bag. ‘I’ll keep it in the bag till I get tae Celtic Park.’ Johnny said turning to face her. ‘I’ll be careful Ma, don’t worry.’  She smiled at him, ’I know ye will. Big finale the night, I hope yeez win, son.’  He hugged his mother rather unexpectedly and she smiled, ‘Whit’s that for?’ ‘I don’t need a reason tae hug my maw dae ah?’ he said before heading for the door, ‘I’ll be back straight after the game. I’m heading up tae meet Paddy noo.’

As he skipped down the dank stairs of the east end tenement block he zipped up his jacket, placing the bag containing his Celtic scarf inside it. He stepped out into a blustery but bright May evening and headed along the London Road towards his friend Paddy’s house. They’d been good mates since their day’s at St Mary’s primary school and were both Celtic mad. For Johnny it was inherited from his old man who took him to his first game when he was four years old not that he recalled much about it. He did recall though being perched on his da’s shoulders as they left games and made their way along Janefield Street through the noisy crowd. It was exciting for a wee boy and he’d caught the Celtic bug. The Macaroon bars helped as did the buttery rolls on cheese his old man bought from a guy who sold them outside the stadium from a huge cardboard box.  In the end though he’d just stare at the field watching those green and white hooped players giving their all as the crowd roared them on.

Johnny knew the east end well and knew where to avoid when Celtic hosted Rangers. There were bars, corners and even individual closes it was best to stay away from on such days. The mixture of alcohol and the strong feelings this match brought out in some often led to trouble. He made a habit of looking a good hundred yards ahead as he made his way to Paddy’s house which situated near the Barras Market. He could often spot problems before they occurred and would cross the road, turn a corner or even just do a U-turn if necessary. He could see the blue clad fans outside certain pubs but as he neared the Paddy’s house green became the dominant colour. He bounded up the stairs to Paddy’s first floor flat. The close smelled of urine and the lights were out again, it all gave the impression of dankness. He knocked on the door and Paddy’s long suffering mother smiled at him, ‘Hi John son, Paddy’s in his room. Will you tell him to turn that bloody music down when you go in?’

As Johnny approached the room door he could hear the dulcet tones of Debbie Harry singing, ‘Once I had a love and it was gas, soon turned out to have a heart of glass.’ He liked his music did Paddy. As he opened the door John saw Paddy in his hooped Celtic shirt having a wee dance to himself as he sang along. ‘Alright Paddy, still fantasising about Debbie Harry?’ Paddy turned a little embarrassed at being seen cavorting around his room. ‘Johnny Boy, who disnae want a wee ten minutes with the bold Debbie? Ye could hing a wet Crombie oan it when I think about her.’ Johnny laughed, ‘It’s always been the blonde yin fae Abba for me.’ The two friends laughed before Paddy said, ‘Must win tonight Johnny, no wanting that mob winning another treble.’ Before Johnny could answer the next single on the stack Paddy had set dropped onto the turntable of his record player. The unmistakable sound of David Bowie began to fill the room… ‘Heaven loves ya, the clouds part for ya, nothing stands in your way when you’re a boy….’ Johnny hoped nothing stood in the way of his Bhoys tonight. This really was a winner takes all game.

The two friends stood among the seething mass of Celtic fans gathered in the Jungle as the game began. This was it, the team would need to give their all and so would the fans. There was a ceaseless cacophony of noise in the old stadium that night as they roared and sang themselves hoarse. Rangers scored first but that just seemed to drive the Celtic players on. Under the TV gantry in the Jungle the two friends joined the huge Celtic support in roaring out their defiance. It was as if this mass of humanity became one and refused to accept defeat. The Rangers goal was under siege but somehow held out till half time.

The second half was much the same but things took a grim turn when Johnny Doyle was sent off for kicking Alex McDonald. Amazingly Celtic’s ten men still powered forward, roared on by three quarters of the stadium. When Celtic equalised the place erupted and there were bodies falling, strangers hugging and an incredible level of noise cascading onto the pitch. Johnny hugged Paddy for all he was worth as they literally jumped for joy. Less than ten minutes later Celtic took the lead and again Celtic Park erupted but no sooner had the celebrating fans settled when Rangers equalised; a shot from Russell somehow found its way through a forest of legs before nestling in the corner of the net. There were fewer than fifteen minutes left for Celtic to save the match and win the title.

The Celtic players sensed it was now or never and the 10 men threw themselves at the Rangers defence like men possessed. Waves of attack batted at the door but through luck and some desperate defending Rangers held on. Then with just five minutes left, George McCluskey weaved his way into the box and smashed a shot across the despairing keeper. It hit a defender and spun into the net. Celtic Park went wild! As the game entered its dying moments and fans just wanted to hear the final whistle. Murdo McLeod took possession of the ball on the right side of the Rangers box, ‘Put it in the crowd, Murdo!’ someone shouted but the young midfielder hammered an unstoppable shot high into the net! It was over Celtic had done it. The title was theirs and Johnny and Paddy celebrated like it was the greatest day of their lives.

The younger folk at the table who weren’t around in 1979 listened to Johnny relay this story with a look of awe. ‘What a game that must have been!’ one of them said. ‘Oh it was,’ smiled Paddy ‘but we’ve got a title to win today so another display like that will do just fine.’  As they stood to head for their seats in the huge north stand, Paddy smiled at his old friend, ‘We’ve had some times following the Celts eh?’ Johnny nodded, ‘Better that a date wi Debbie Harry?’ Paddy laughed, ‘It’s close but Aye, the Celts just win it.’

The Ghosts of Cable Street

The Ghosts of Cable Street

Max Levitas was a child of Jewish refugees who had fled from the dreadful anti-Semitic pogroms in imperial Russia to begin a new life in Ireland. His father had worked with Jim Larkin in Dublin and fought for the rights of workers there although his activities saw him blacklisted and made finding work difficult. Max was born in Dublin in 1915 and his parents had to lie with him and his sibling on the floor of their tenement as the bullets flew during the 1916 rising. He moved to Glasgow when he was 15 due to his father’s difficulty in earning a living in Ireland. Glasgow had a major Jewish population in those times mainly in and around the Gorbals area. It was in Glasgow that Max developed further his own lifelong commitment to fighting for the rights of the ordinary working class people he saw struggling around him in the depression hit city.

His family moved to London in the early 1930s and settled in among the east end’s large Jewish population. Living cheek by Jowell with tens of thousands of Jews in the packed terrace houses of the east end was a large Irish Catholic population who had come to the city to work in the docks which were at that time the busiest in the world. Max recalled being told about the dockers' strike of 1912 when the employers sought to starve the workers into submission. Jewish families fed the children of striking Irish workers as it was plain that many were going hungry. Despite occasional friction between the communities this act of kindness wasn’t forgotten.

The rise of fascism in Italy, Spain and Germany in the 1930s found its parallel in the British Union of Fascists, a Political movement led by Oswald Mosely. Mosely had visited Italy, met Mussolini and saw fascism as the way forward for Britain. By the mid-1930s the British Union of Fascists claimed 50,000 members and adopted some of the hallmarks of European fascism. Anti- Semitism was never far from the surface and when Moseley announced that he would lead a march of thousands of Black-shirted Fascists through the east end of London in October 1936 there was genuine alarm in the Jewish community. They had watched Hitler and his followers terrorise the Jews of Germany and most Jews in the east end came from families who fled persecution in Russia and elsewhere. There was a determination that the black shirts wouldn’t be given free rein to terrorise the east end’s Jewish community.

Max Levitas, who had been arrested a year earlier for painting ‘No to Fascism’ in large letters on three sides of Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square, saw that a storm was coming. He was determined that there would be no pogrom in London’s east end and joined community leaders in discussing what they should do. When it became clear that Moseley and his Fascists would be funnelled down Cable Street, enabled by a huge Police operation, the local community decided to act. The Jews of the east end were joined by thousands of Irish workers who remembered the Jewish community’s support during the 1912 strike and together they set up barricades to stop the black-shirts. Max Levitas recalled what happened next…

‘Mosely and his fascists wanted to take over the east end, to run out the Jews and communists. We had to stop them. It was the people, united, and fighting together. Suddenly a barricade was erected there and they put an old lorry in the middle of the road and old mattresses. The people up the top of the flats, mainly Irish Catholic women, were throwing rubbish on to the police. We were all side by side. I was moved to tears to see bearded Jews and Irish Catholic Dockers standing up to stop Mosley. I shall never forget that as long as I live, how working-class people could get together to oppose the evil of racism.’

As the Police attempted to clear the barricades they were resisted by thousands of ordinary people determined to keep the fascists out of their impoverished but proud streets. Children threw marbles under the police horses and some riders fell as their horses slipped and stumbled. Max and his brother Morri (Maurice) were involved for hours in the battles with the Police who were determined to clear the road and get Mosely and his Black-shirts through. Morri would later join the Connolly Column of the international brigades which went to Spain to fight Franco and his fascists.

As the battle of Cable Street was fought out, Mosely was giving fascist salutes from his Rolls Royce car to his followers who were positive that the Police would clear the road and let them march but the people of the east end were equally determined that it would not enter their streets. The barricades, flying bricks and bottles and above all the sheer determination of the people meant that Police officer in charge had to return to Mosely and tell him that there was no possibility of the march going down Cable Street; he would have to turn back. It was seen by the left in Britain as a great victory of ordinary working people over the powerful and insidious forces of fascism.

Bernard Kops was a ten year old Jewish boy in the east end of London then and he recalls that his parents had to review their opinions after the events at Cable Street. He said in a BBC documentary…

“My mother said there were only two types of people in the world. Jews and Jew-haters. Of course, when Cable Street came along, the Irish labourers and Dockers came out and it was them that really made sure Mosley didn’t get through. My mother and father really had to change their minds after that and accept that others did come to help us out.”

Mosely and his movement were far from finished and some UK newspapers supported him openly. He went to Berlin after the battle of Cable Street to marry society girl Dianna Mitford and his old friend Joseph Goebbels hosted the wedding. Guest of honour was a certain Adolf Hitler. The British Union of Fascists was closely allied to the Nazis and when the true nature of fascism became apparent it spelled the end of its seemingly inexorable rise. There was a time when it looked as if Fascism was the coming force in British politics but the horrors of the war demonstrated its true face.

Like many working class lads from Glasgow, my formative years introduced me to left wing politics in a way that seemed entirely natural. We didn’t have much and people with any intelligence would look at the conditions we lived in and asked why it was so. The only people living in the poorer parts of Glasgow who voted Conservative in those times were those of an Orange persuasion. I recall chatting to one such chap at a new year’s party and he told me it was all to do with the Tories being stronger on Northern Ireland than Labour which struck me as odd. To ignore the social issues he saw every day and view everything through the lens of his orangeism blinded him to the reality of the times.

Trips on the supporters’ bus to Celtic park and indeed all over Scotland and Europe also saw many interesting debates on politics. Of course the ongoing conflict in Ireland at the time was a regular topic of discussion and there was a surprisingly lively debate about the nature and place or armed struggle and whether it made reunification more likely or drove a wedge between the communities. There was and remains a smug assumption that football supporters lack the faculty for nuanced debate about complex political issues but trust me that wasn’t the case. I’ve heard men quote James Connolly or Jim Larkin to support their arguments and learned that the poison of sectarianism is not only divisive but detrimental to the progress of all working people.

The music scene then also saw bands with a distinct political message. In those days I saw The Tom Robinson Band, The Men They Couldn’t Hang and a variety of Irish and Scottish folk groups who often sang of working class life and the events which shaped it. Politics then was still largely influenced by social class and the political parties reflected this. Labour was still a party of the left then until the Blair years changed that irrevocably.

Life has changed hugely since those times but Brexit and populism has seen the rise of fascism and racism again across Europe and America. It may not have reached the levels Max Levitas saw in the 1930s but its face is just as ugly. It calls itself the ‘Alt-Right’ or other such pseudonyms but it remains the same in ideology. It is to be hoped that the ordinary people aren’t seduced by its message and resist it as Max did all those years ago.

Max died in 2018 at the age of 103 and never stopped working to improve the lot of ordinary people. To his dying day he warned working class people not to be divided by racism sectarianism or any form of intolerance. That message still resonates today.

We may not be called to the barricades as people were at the battle of Cable Street but we should still resist and challenge intolerance whenever we see it.