The lion tamer and
Sideshow Sob
Felipão
showed that herding well-groomed cats into a functional football team requires
more than an emotional whip and a neatly trimmed moustache. The abundant talent
at his disposal fell victim to their own incessant preening (the
team spent the day before the Holland match at the salon), a lack of
tactical cohesion, a penchant for petulance and hyper-inflated expectations of
easy success predicated on a military-era worldview. The continual displays
of adolescent weeping from nominally grown men were contrasted by the lion
tamers’ glib assertions that everything was going just fine. The mewing display
of the Seleção on home
soil will hopefully force a long-overdue
cleaning of the litter box.
The flea show
Messi, Rodriguez, Muller, Ruiz, Navas, Jones, Howard,
Mascherano and hundreds of brilliant athletes played more than 130 hours (five
and a half days!) of competitive, entertaining and emotionally draining
football with a damn
interesting narrative arc. Seen from the height of a surveillance drone,
the movement on the pitch might look like dancing fleas.
The painted and bearded
ladies
I kept waiting for a goal celebration in which a player
scores from a free kick, scoops up some of the magic spray and lathers it on
his face only to take off his boot and give himself a shave. While I was
waiting, FIFA kept showing me beautiful women in the stands. The loveliest of
the lovelies had their faces and nails painted in national colors, raw emotions
on
display for me to consume. The bearded ladies were in drab sackcloth,
cleaning the toilets after the show was over.
The Ringling Brothers,
Bynum and Bailiff
FIFA is making money as quickly as they are losing
credibility. How is it possible that year after year, tournament after
tournament, we face the same issues of ticket corruption, black box management,
a lack of transparency and consistency in refereeing decisions, partial and
selective use of technology to apply sanctions to players, and the innumerable
other banal absurdities that surround people that insist on five star hotel
accommodations and limousine service? The owners of the circus established the
logic and sequence of the show and make their demands known to all. Once you
step out of that narrowly framed mind-set there is suddenly nothing to talk
about because the money is in the bank, the crime has happened and Whelan has made his
millions on the Lamm.
The elephants and
their tents
Have you ever had an elephant trumpet directly into your
ear? If not, you clearly haven’t been to a World Cup match. The
hyper-mediatized spectacle under the big top assaults all the senses except
smell (there is a small army of dark-skinned workers to shovel away the mess). Before
and after the match, the tens of thousands of singing and chanting fans were
drowned out by the state-of-the-art sound system, eliminating any possibility
of soaking in the moment (for a neutral). As the fireworks exploded around the Swiss
and German manufactured roof of the Maracanã, tear gas and percussion
grenades pounded the faces of those who dared to question the financing of the
circus with public money. The elephant tents won’t come down once the circus
has gone, but their exclusionary structures and violent assaults on common
sense and public culture will continue.
The trapeze act
There was not much mention of the eleven workers that died
while constructing the World Cup stadiums, nor did they receive a collective
minute of silence before any match. The dangerous conditions under which most
heavy construction workers in Brazil toil were exacerbated with time pressures.
True, many thousands of men made many millions of dollars constructing the
tents and roadways and hotels for the circus. The vast majority of them made it
home every day without injury. The same can’t be said for those who were
crushed under a hastily constructed overpass in Belo Horizonte. The lack of
outrage is itself outrageous.
The carnies
How is it possible to pull off the World Cup in a country
without a highly qualified work force? Put billions of public funds behind it,
hire temporary employees en masse, convince people to volunteer their labor,
and get highly mobile global technicians to do the rest. There is an ever-larger
cadre of companies that roam around the world to design, build, and run stadiums, provide security,
manage tourists, run catering,
install telecommunications, negotiate with gadflies, and pay handsomely to convince
themselves and others that this is all for
the good of the people. These carnies make good money and are invariably
dependent upon the Ringling Brothers to get their contracts signed and
credentials guaranteed. The other carnies are local surplus labor hired by
companies with links
to prominent politicians. After the party they’ll return to a state of
under-employment until the circus returns.
The strongmen
Oh my, oh my, how strong they are! They are so strong that
the newspaper puts them on the front page and explains the myriad ways in which
they have been trained to use their strength in emergency situations. The
strongmen need not say a word, indeed, dialogue is considered a sign of
weakness! They are so strong that they exude dark clouds of poison and move
through crowds with sticks. The strongmen are so strong and so big that they
are everywhere, even when they are not. Without the strongmen, we are told, the
circus is impossible. Yet no one informed the strongmen that they are not the
main act, that the performance of strength should be left to those who don’t
have weapons, that the spectacle of raw and unbridled power is weakness
incarnate.
The locals
Brazilians are, on the whole, lovely, warm, generous,
friendly and hospitable. They made the best of this World Cup both for
themselves and for others. The delays, inevitable confusions, dysfunctional
systems and other daily inconveniences of daily life that tourists confronted were
made better through innumerable small and felicitous encounters. Brazilians
made Brazil seem like a tremendously functional place for a short time, and their
warmth and charm will be the lasting impression that most tourists take away.
There were also demonstrations of the dark side of the Brazilian character that
went unnoticed by many visitors as well, mostly because they didn’t catch the
meaning or didn’t recognize what was no longer there: the tasteless chants
towards the president at the opening and closing ceremonies, the elimination
and privatization of public space in the service of a fickle
and arrogant elite, and a more generalized transfer of public wealth to private
hands. Before the World Cup the Brazilians were saying “Imagina na Copa…”,
wondering how we were going to have so many extra people in the cities. Now we
have to “Imaginar realidade…” with
cities in debt, traffic worsening, WC projects unfinished and an election on
the horizon.
The hangover
Deficit spending, infrastructure collapse, slow economy,
literal hangovers, and divided opinion about whether or not it was worth it.
The party, as predicted, was amazing. Brazilians can put on a show de bola like no one else. There
will be massive saudades for Brazil four
years from now while journalists are trying to get to Yekaterinburg.
Just because it was an amazing World Cup doesn’t mean that it’s ok to have it.
It’s not some kind of global potlatch where the international tourist class can
come a feast at the expense of others every four years. The impacts are as real
as the spectacle is ephemeral. It doesn’t make for good newsprint and it’s not
a story with a happy ending, no matter how many saves Tim Howard made.
Football is probably the only thing that would bring so many
Latin Americans to Brazil in such numbers. This was a great tournament for
South American solidarities to develop (except for the Brazil-Argentina taunt
fest). Through the overwrought infrastructure projects, the Brazilians were
showing off their wealth to their neighbors and to the Germans and Swiss and
other truly wealthy nations (and making them even more so through contracts and
tax breaks/subsidies).
In a country as desperately unequal as Brazil, the party
should have been more modest and more inclusive, the spending more transparent
and the dialogue with the population should have happened years ago still has
not begun. The strengths and weaknesses of Brazil were on partial display
during the WC. This was not a normal month. There were 64 games and 64 holidays
in twelve cities. Life in Brazil doesn’t usually run this smoothly but there
were many important lessons that we can take from the Brazilian capacity for
organizing the World Cup. When there is a real (or perceived) necessity,
Brazilian cities can work for many people some of the time for specific events.
The organizing committees did a great job of pulling everything together within
a regime of exception and the tournament pleased even Jerome Valcke. Things
were so good that for a short period and for some people it seemed as if the
chronic problems of police violence, education, infrastructure, labor
conditions and socio-economic disparity didn’t exist in Brazil. The Brazilian
media continues along with this narrative that has been echoed in the
international press.
Now that we are back to reality, there can hopefully be a more
frank analysis regarding the lack of transparency in government and the private
sector, the irregularities in constructing stadiums and WC related infrastructure,
the forced removals of low income communities, rampant real-estate speculation,
the gross
human rights violations that happen as a result of hosting mega-events, the
diminishing access to public space and leisure activities (including
professional football), and the lack of general consciousness about the impacts
of consumer choices (from food production to sewerage). Of course, none of
these problems are unique to Brazil yet the hosting
of the World Cup exaggerated them.
There should also be a larger conversation about the
mega-event business model that brings the circus and all its actors to town
before moving on to the next town, the next country, leaving behind fuzzy
memories of a fantastic party and vague recollections of some terrible things
that happened along the way.
The 2016 Olympics are x days away and will be until they are
not. Until then we can put all of these conversations on repeat, use the same
sound bites, talk to the same people about the same things and very little is
going to change. The World Cup has shown the potential of the circus to crush
public debate and to anesthetize critical thought while the tents are
illuminated and the fleas are dancing under the brutalizing glare of the strong
men.