The black December of football in Turkey

The last few weeks of football in Turkey have been marked by a common denominator: a constant spiral of violence and chaos on and off the pitch that seems to be spiralling out of control. The relationship between football and violence is certainly nothing new in Turkey. In short, this is not the first time we have witnessed such spectacles. But the vicious circle reached at the end of 2023 has some new elements, and it is undoubtedly the most difficult time since the return of the fans to the stands since the outbreak of the pandemic.

At least in this particular respect, Ankara, and not Istanbul, was for once the real capital of the country. On the night of 11 December, Halil Umut Meler, one of Turkey's most famous and respected referees, found himself the protagonist of the Ankaragücü-Rizespor replay, which had already been ignited by the visitors' 90th-minute equaliser through Adolfo Gaich. The goal, which came 40 minutes after the dubious dismissal of Ankaragücü's Ali Sowe, was the start of a series of unfortunate events straight out of a Lemony Snicket novel. The facts are well known, having penetrated the national news cycle and reached far beyond the Bosphorus: Ankaragücü president Faruk Koca entered the pitch at the final whistle, ran up to the referee, punched him in the jaw and then attempted to kick and punch him, with the help of two of his own club's managers.

Faruk Koca is no ordinary man in Turkish football. A long-time friend of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and a member of the ruling AKP party, he has spent his life as a football fan restoring Ankaragücü, by far the most popular and supportive club in the Turkish capital, Ankara, to their former glory, especially in the top flight, which suffers from the hegemony of Istanbul - and not just in football. To be president of Ankaragücü (which literally means 'energy/strength of Ankara' in Turkish) is to represent one of the most powerful sporting institutions in the capital, and in the long run, according to many Turkish analysts, the fact that Faruk Koca held such a position may have given him a sense of omnipotence and impunity.

In reality, the reaction was such that Koca, despite his political connections, immediately found himself alone, condemned by all, challenged by Ankaragücü and sacked by Recep Tayyip Erdoğan himself, who then personally called referee Halil Umut Meler, who spent 10 days in hospital recovering from the Ankara attack, and the referees themselves rallied around Meler and decided on a week-long strike on the very night of the Ankaragücü-Rizespor game. The referees' walkout embarrassed the Turkish Football Association, which was faced with a hypothetical scenario of missed matches and players unable to play due to the absence of referees. Inevitably, the decision was taken to suspend the game for a week, while the PDFK (the Turkish equivalent of a sports judge) banned Faruk Koca, who was arrested the next morning and is awaiting a civil trial, from football for life.

But it was not only Koca who was targeted by the Turkish press, with the country's president, Mehmet Büyükekşi, fresh from the controversial Euro 2032 bid, who was also involved in the controversial Italo-Turkish ticket. Büyükekşi, who worked with Gravina and the FIGC to bring a major football tournament to Turkey for the first time, tried to play down the incident in Ankara, but perhaps it was inevitable that such an episode would lead to greater reflection.

When the championship resumed, Turkey realised that the film of violence and refereeing controversies had not yet seen the end credits. On 19 December, Trabzonspor arrived in Istanbul and took a 2-1 lead over Istanbulspor, a small team on the local football scene but with a history that was far from negligible. Once again, the goal provoked the wrath of the home club's president, Ecmel Faik Sarıalioğlu, who, only slightly more calmly than Faruk Koca, officially withdrew his team from the game in the 77th minute because of a questionable refereeing decision. With Halil Umut Meler still recovering, the referee was again overruled.

Let's forget about Moviola and take a broader view. It is interesting because it shows that, despite the condemnation coming from the highest palaces in Ankara, despite the suspension of the league and the headlines all over the world, the cultural problems of Turkish football cannot be solved by a one-day suspension. Of course, in this case there was no violence, and the matter is already over, at least officially (Istanbulspor, already bottom of the table, were docked three points on top of their 3-0 defeat, and their president was banned for 90 days and fined 780,000 euros), but it shows how little it takes for Turkish football to spiral out of control. Then again, nobody would have been surprised if the same thing had happened less than 24 hours later at Bursa's Timsah Arena, the stadium famous for its crocodile shape.

Bursaspor, the fallen nobility of Turkish football (they even won a title in 2009-2010, a rare and difficult feat, as the league's roll of honour, dominated by the country's historic greats, shows), are now in a state of particular disrepute. Bottom of the third tier, plagued by debts, unpaid wages and a series of short-sighted managerial decisions, the club has recently been in the national headlines more for controversial events than for what it has achieved on the pitch. The events of 20 December are no exception, fitting into a wider narrative of hardship and difficulty, and perhaps even a basis for ethnic hatred.

It is clear from the report that the Bursaspor-Diyarbekirspor game was no walk in the park. Six red cards, all after the 96th minute, most of them after the game had finished, with even one fan arrested in the immediate aftermath of an attempted pitch invasion. The most striking image was that of Mustafa Genç, a Bursaspor player who was not even booked for a flying kick, showing how out of control the situation had become.

The massive police presence on the sidelines, on the other hand, suggested even before the game started that this was a game to be played with caution. Tensions between Bursaspor's supporters and those of teams from the south-east of the country, particularly those from the Kurdish areas of Turkey, have a long history.

In 2016, Amed Sportif, sometimes abbreviated to Amedspor in the foreign press, appeared in Bursa, a team that, like its rival Diyarbekirspor, originates from the city of Diyarbakır/Amed. In 2016, Bursaspor was a club in the Süper Lig, the national first division, and found itself in a shootout against Amed in the Türkiye Kupası, the Turkish equivalent of the Coppa Italia. Unbelievably, and against all odds, Bursaspor underestimated their opponents, who took the Timsah Arena by storm with a brace from 'Pirate' Deniz Naki, a former St. Pauli player known at the time for his political activism and support for the Kurdish cause. Amed, the first team in Turkey to be allowed to change their name to the Kurdish name of the city of Diyarbakır a few years earlier, would then continue their journey in the Cup, even going so far as to allow themselves the luxury of drawing the first leg of their quarter-final with Fenerbahçe in a surreal match played behind closed doors to the roar of F16s in flight. Those were the days when Turkey's internal conflict with the separatist PKK, still labelled a terrorist organisation by the United States and the European Union, was at its height.

The years between 2016 and 2022 would not have seen Amed and Bursaspor on the same path had it not been for the sporting collapse of the Bursa Crocodiles, who were relegated to the third tier. The dross of that distant game, accumulated over six years, has exploded in one fell swoop. After another home triumph in the southeast (this time a 2-0 win at home in September), Amed found themselves in Bursa the following March. Bursaspor fans had been preparing for months for what they described as "hell" in a stadium that was oddly full for the category, dedicated entirely to the team they saw as the sporting arm of the PKK. Bursaspor's 2-1 final victory, played in an atmosphere that was almost impossible to breathe in and with unusual tolerance even from the referee for the constant throwing of objects on the pitch (a knife was even found), culminated in jubilation with military salutes and an attempted lynching of Amed players and staff. Nine people were arrested, including Bursaspor's security guard (who allegedly attacked the visiting team in the changing room), three policemen were suspended for negligence and the stadium was closed for nine days.

Between March and today, however, not enough water has passed under the bridge. And although Diyarbekirspor are far removed from the political veins of their city rivals Amed, the climate in Bursa has easily become heated. The brawl at the end of the game was reminiscent of that atmosphere, with the home side clearly annoyed by the image of a Diyarbakır side that had (once again) driven them from the Timsah Arena, this time 2-0 down. The jubilation at the second goal, coupled with the provocation of the Teksas home supporters' group, provoked a disproportionate reaction that is difficult to comment on.

A few days later, with kick-off scheduled for 12 noon on Christmas Day, Bursaspor travelled to the south-east of the country - to Van, to be precise, a city of millenary charm, historically a crossroads of cultures, including Armenian, Kurdish, even Persian and, of course, Turkish influences. More than 48 hours before kick-off, people were already talking about the match. In fact, the Teksas Ultra group, fresh from the humiliation suffered at the hands of Diyarbekirspor, went to visit a controversial group of Turkish special forces stationed in Van, a city that has witnessed various episodes of guerrilla warfare between the PKK and the Ankara government (attacks, car bombs in particular, especially in 2016). Two other attacks by pro-Kurdish militants in recent days, one in the southeast of the country (Hakkari) and the other near a Turkish base in northern Iraq, provided the ideal opportunity for yet another government intervention in the world of football, with Vanspor-Bursaspor being played behind closed doors. For the record: Vanspor went on to beat Bursaspor 3-0.

Just under 10 years ago, Turkey introduced the PassoLig electronic fan card, which was designed to eradicate violence at stadiums by identifying perpetrators through a system modelled on the Italian fan card. It is almost superfluous to say that it may not have had the desired effect, and we should reflect on the extent to which the whole situation is really only due to the violence of the fans, and not also to the cultural effects produced by the gestures of club presidents and managers, who regularly find themselves violating the most basic rules of respect towards referees and authorities.

In this climate, relatively little was said about what could have been one of the key matches of the year, Fenerbahçe-Galatasaray, which ended up being overshadowed by a controversy that had little to do with the pitch. The debate exploded after the game when Galatasaray posted a photo of Icardi with a black eye, implicitly accusing their opponents of causing it with a gesture away from the cameras.

A few hours later, Edin Dzeko, the former Fenerbahce captain, responded on Instagram: "He hit the post with his head, then put it on Instagram and now they're crying about a possible penalty... It's just like them! Embarrassing!"

Perhaps the only good news this December, when such skirmishes seemed to be the least of the problems, is that there has never been a lack of clear condemnation, at least from the Turkish authorities, of any violent, ultranationalist or exaggerated gesture. But the impression is that this is not enough and, above all, that this is not the end of it. This is not good news for Erdogan's country, which will have the huge sword of Damocles hanging over its head from now until 2032.