2014 FIFA World Cup: The Demise of National Identity on the Pitch

Soccer – futebol, fútbol – is unquestionably a significant part of Latin American culture, with the notable exception of some Caribbean nations.  It is almost impossible to imagine modern Mexican, Brazilian, or Argentinian cultural identity without soccer, and nothing brings this to the forefront more than the FIFA World Cup, the phenomenon that develops into a nationalistic frenzy every four years. By the time Brazil won the first of its five (to date) World Cup titles in 1958, it had become clear that game as played by the various national teams had evolved into distinct styles easily contrasting the methodical Swedish journeyman play from Brazilian showmanship, for example.

Many scholars have debated how realistic such an assertion could be, given that FIFA’s Laws of the Games apply equally to all competitions. These students of the game claimed that international football was an English invention and had not substantively changed from its origins. Everybody played the same game by the same rules. Scholars with an opposing view pointed out the differences in tactics and ball control styles that were relatively consistent within countries’ national squads but varied greatly from one nation to the next. While large regional distinctions were evident – e.g. the northern European approach in contrast with the Latin approach – even within a given geographical area, teams could be identified by their style of play: Brazilians favored complicated footwork and individualism, Argentinians played with closer marking and more physical contact, Uruguayans used tightly structured defense and counter-attacks.

As recently as the 2006 World Cup, I argued in favor of the national identities of soccer. I based my assertions not only on the actual way in which teams played but also on the approaches to the game most highly favored in the national media and general populace. In Brazil, looking at the teams that put together three World Cup titles in the course of four tournaments (1958, 1962, 1970), a popular distinction was evident in the way Brazilians viewed Pelé (Édson Arantes do Nascimento) and Garrincha (Manuel Francisco dos Santos). The two were teammates in three World Cups: 1958, 1962, and 1966. While Brazilians recognize Pelé as “the greatest footballer ever” (most career professional goals, only person to win three World Cup titles, etc.), they tended to embrace Garrincha’s flashy, playful style and off-the-pitch partying more than Pelé’s professional athleticism. Observing the teams fielded by Brazil in 1978, 1982, 1986, 1990, and 1994, the least favorite leading into the World Cup was the less arty and more defensive ’94 squad. Brazilian futebol, it was said, should be the epitome of the “jogo bonito,” the beautiful, stylized way of playing. Prior to the ’94 finals, many Brazilians felt that the more pedestrian group led by team captain Dunga (Carlos Caetano Bledorn Verri) would fail miserably. Instead, they capture the title in the final against Italy, and blazed the trail for Brazilian teams that went to the World Cup final in 1998 (lost to France) and 2002 (beat Germany). Four years later in 2006, the Brazilian superstars seemed to approach the tournament as one giant Nike commercial featuring their amazing ball control talent and trick passes. While they did advance as far as the quarter finals, their game-winning abilities were precarious throughout the tournament, their focus apparently more on style than points. Still, they embodied the jogo bonito of Brazilian soccer and, until their elimination, were much more heartily received than the ’94 squad.

By 2010, things had changed. The best players from around the world were now playing with and against each other in Europe. English, German, Italian, and Spanish leagues surged with foreign players from Africa, Eastern Europe, and the Americas. No longer isolated geographically between World Cups and occasional friendlies or qualifiers, these players now shared their day-to-day experiences and learned from one another. During the 2010 competition, nowhere was this more evident than in the Argentina x Germany match. Traditionally, German success on the pitch relied upon overwhelming athleticism. In the 1974 Cup, the amazing Dutch carousel – the “Clock-Work Orange” as they were called popularly – dominated opponents through their innovative “total football.” In the finals, however, the sheer physicality of the West German athletes ended the Netherlands’ dream. The German style of play depended to a great extent on being bigger, stronger and faster than their opponents. They could boot the ball downfield and out run the other team, leading to strong, accurate shots on goal. In the 2010 face-off with Argentina, the South American squad expected to dissect the Germans relying greatly on Lionel Messi’s incredible dribbling and passing abilities. Messi had spent the years leading up to 2010 demonstrating on Barcelona just how to cut apart opposing defenses in precisely such a manner, and garnishing for himself the title of greatest soccer player in the world. The Germans who defeated the Argentinians were a surprise. They exhibited ball control and passing techniques similar to the traditional Latin American style of play. They still dominated the long ball and fast break, but now had the flashy footwork and intricate passing supposedly of another cultural identity.

This week, the 2014 FIFA World Cup enters the semi-final stage. Few observers of the game would be surprised to know that Brazil, Germany, Argentina, and the Netherlands are the final four participants, three multiple champions and the historically best team never to have won. What has been surprising are the upsets during the group stage and the teams that qualified for the round of 16. Some European powerhouses went home early, while “lesser” teams from African and the Americas demonstrated a level of play equal and even superior to the favorites. Going nose to nose with the soccer strongholds, the second stage included such teams as Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, Mexico, USA and Uruguay, as well as Nigeria, Algeria, and Greece. Even more surprising, Colombia and Costa Rica both progressed to the quarter finals. The two teams had won their groups, Costa Rica besting three previous World Cup champions: Italy, Uruguay and England.

What is most significant about this is not merely how less traditional teams have surfaced to such a high level of competition, but rather what it means in terms of national styles of play. The leading players of the world have been blending their styles in European leagues in growing numbers over the past 15 years or so. For example, of the 23 players that Mexico took to this year’s World Cup, in their final game against the Netherlands six (if you count Ochoa who just finished his contract with AC Ajaccio) of the starting 11 and all three substitutes play in Europe. In contrast, on the team that Mexico took to the ’94 Cup, only star forwards Hugo Sánchez and Luis García played in Europe. Another way to look at the question of nation-specific styles of play is in the current embodiment of Argentine soccer, Lionel Messi. He developed his skills since youth playing for Barcelona in Spain, starting in their farm system at age 13. While his unquestionably natural ability factors immensely in his success on the pitch, the coaching and environment in which he has honed his craft are Spanish. When Messi first gained international media attention, some observers suggested that his manner of play was that of a Spaniard rather than an Argentinian. Now in 2014, such comments have lost meaning. Messi is Messi. He plays for Barcelona regularly, and represents his country, Argentina, in the World Cup. In the same manner, Robin van Persie plays for Manchester United and represents the Netherlands in the quadriannual competition. At the highest level of the sport, no one plays “Argentinian soccer” or “Brazilian soccer” or “Chilean soccer.” They just play soccer.

¿Chavismo sin Chávez?: The possibilities for regional realignment

The hemisphere is facing an impending realignment as a result of Hugo Chávez’s death. For years Chávez has been the center of gravity for the left-leaning governments that emerged in Latin America’s post-privatization world of the 21^st Century. When many of the promises of 1990s failed to bring the lasting socio-economic improvements expected from neo-liberal economics and hemispheric integration, countries like Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil and, of course, Venezuela reacted against many of the political parties that had promoted the economic policies. These electorates brought into office leftist leaders such as Luis Inácio Lula da Silva, Evo Morales, and Hugo Chávez. Of these, the latter is clearly the most similar to charismatic leaders of other eras, recalling Perón or maybe Vargas.

In Brazil, while Lula had a long track record as leader of the Workers’ Party (Partido dos Trabalhadores – PT), after several frustrated attempts to get himself elected President he finally won the majority in 2002 on a platform that basically maintained Fernando Henrique Cardoso’s economic policies. As his hand-picked successor, Dilma Roussef’s economic policy for the most part follows the trail blazed by Lula. This policy has either contributed to a significant period of economic growth in the country, or is the beneficiary of that growth (most likely some of both). However, the grass-roots supporters of the PT to a large extend felt alienated by Lula’s – and now Dilma’s – apparent abandonment of traditional party lines, together with increasing accusations of corruption.

Cristina Kirchner took office as President of Argentina in 2007, in essence a re-election of her husband Néstor. She also maintained a pre-existing economic policy that attempted to marry social reforms with the economic growth that developed under Néstor. More recently, however, Cristina has reverted to older, protectionist economic models, straining relations with some trading partners. Like Dilma in Brazil, Cristina seems to be trying to balance her political ideology with the management of an economy that resisted the downturns of the 2000s better than most G20 nations, even though there are warning signs in both countries.

In contrast to the balancing acts in Brazil and Argentina, Bolivia’s Evo Morales has defined his seven years in office along more traditional Latin American leftist terms, adopting an attitude of resistance of the United States’ foreign policy and the role of multinational or transnational business interests. Nevertheless, likely due to the limited size and scope of Bolivia’s economy, Morales has not occupied the international stage in the manner of Chávez. Like Chávez, Morales frequently has honored Fidel Castro as the patriarch of the Latin American Left and he has maintained an “anti-imperialist” rhetoric, although his domestic policies have been erratic.

What made Hugo Chávez such a presence in the hemisphere was his vocal anti-Americanism financed by Venezuela’s oil production. Like the autocratic Latin American rulers of the 20^th Century, Chávez managed to leverage populism to inculcate a lack of pluralism into the Venezuelan political reality. He fuelled the masses with apparent social welfare programs while limiting the political discourse. And as with similar regimes, Chavismo could count on much popular support. As Eric Farnsworth indicated:

“Even his opponents took pains before the last presidential election, on October 7, 2012 to convince voters that if opposition candidate Henrique Capriles had been elected, he would have respected the gains of the Bolivarian revolution.”  Eric Farnsworth (01/11/13 http://www.as-coa.org/articles/us-can%E2%80%99t-stay-quiet-over-ch%C3%A1vez-absence)

The question now is who, if anyone, may fill the void left by Chávez. Dilma Roussef and perhaps to a lesser extent Cristina Kirchner would shun the role of anti-American firebrand, preferring to try to manage their countries’ economic growth while resisting both American and Chinese commercial pressures. Evo Morales cannot muster the populational and economic clout. Raúl Castro is really a transitional place-holder. Most likely, Chavismo, unlike Peronismo I Argentina, will not have the long-reaching implications in the Venezuelan national political arena.