Patrick Comerford
There is an old adage among football fans that ‘you don’t choose the club, the club chooses you.’
So, on Sunday night, as I stood in the bar in the Old George, I really wanted – hope against hope – as five minutes of added time stretched into an agonising six, that Aston Villa would clinch an equaliser, and rise back into the top four in the Premier League.
I have been a Villa fan since my teens for no other reasons than that Villa Park is a few stations south of Lichfield on the trainline from Lichfield into Birmingham. I seldom go to football games these days, but I still watch Villa matches in my local pub, and I have benign, avuncular feelings when I see Villa fans at Lichfield Trent Valley and Lichfield City heading off to games.
In the present political climate, I recall that Aston Villa has a proud tradition of standing up against antisemitism and racism. When Aston Villa was invited on a three-match tour of Germany in 1938, the players refused to give the Nazi salute. Later, during World War II, local lore says, the Villa reserve team were all captured at Dunkirk, and in captivity they thrashed their SS guards.
But on Sunday night I had something of an internal conflict – I didn’t want to see Tottenham Hotspur relegated either. Spurs have been my second team since my teens too, but for very different reasons.
Part of Spurs’ traditional support base was for long in the Jewish community in London, so that to fans of Chelsea and other clubs, Tottenham Hotspur is a Jewish club. In response to racist and antisemitic taunts, Spurs fans long ago adopted as their own chant: ‘We are the Yids’, embracing the label to render the abuse impotent.
Since 1982, Spurs have had three chairs who were Jewish businessmen with pre-existing degrees of allegiance to the club. It is said about 5 per cent of the Spurs fans at games may be Jewish.
The Jewish community in Tottenham began to grow early in the last century. East European Jews fleeing pogroms in Russia arrived in London from the 1880s on, and a fresh wave in 1905-1906 as the persecution intensified. Many Jews settled in the East End, and other families then moved further north to the Tottenham area. In time, Tottenham Hotspur became part of the lives of working-class Jewish men in the Tottenham area.
Jewish numbers at home matches rose after World War I, when improved public transport made it possible to be in synagogue in the morning and to catch a tram from Aldgate in time for a 2:30 kick-off at White Hart Lane. In the 1920s, the Jewish Chronicle claimed, almost all Jews who followed soccer were Spurs supporters, and the Jewish fanbase continued to grow in the 1930s. Several reports in 1935 estimated as many as 10,000 Jews in a Spurs crowd, or about one-third of the total.
When White Hart Lane was the venue for an international between England and Germany, the choice seen as an affront to the Jewish community. The swastika flew over White Hart Lane on 4 December 1935 and the German team gave a sinister Nazi salute to the crowd before kick-off. But a fan climbed onto the roof of the West Stand and tore down the Nazi flag. Perhaps it was irony, certainly it was justice, that Germany was defeated 3-0 that day.
After the war, Jewish fans still felt they belonged at White Hart Lane, although the local community was shrinking from the 1960s on. In the late 1960s, fans from opposing clubs began chanting abuse at Spurs fan using the ‘Yid’ word. When Spurs beat Chelsea in the 1967 FA Cup Final, the antisemitic abuse from Chelsea fans was so undiluted that many were deeply disgusted.
Throughout the 1970s, opposition fans openly labelled Spurs fans as Jews, and the chants descended into extreme racism. These chants raged from ‘does your rabbi know you’re here?’ to ‘I’ve never felt more like gassing the Jews,’ and ‘Spurs are on their way to Auschwitz.’ Nazi salutes were common, and hissing sound that resounded was intended as a reminder of the gas chambers.
In response, Spurs fans embraced the label and on the terraces, they took to chanting, ‘We are the Yids.’ They do not use the word in a derogatory way, nor is it an example of cultural appropriation. They use the label imposed on them by others to celebrate their history, continuity and identity in a form of defence mechanism against virulent and often uncontrolled antisemitism.
At a game between Spurs and West Ham some years ago, songs about Hitler and gas chambers could be heard from the away crowd, and Nazi salutes were also seen. In recent years, Chelsea supporters have chanted anti-Jewish songs on the London Underground, a group of Chelsea fans forced an Orthodox Jewish passenger to move carriages after targeting him for abuse, and a Chelsea season ticket-holder was banned for three years after making 13 Nazi salutes at Spurs fans.
This reminds me of behaviour by Nigel Farage that he refuses to acknowledge, to accept responsibility for, or to accept how offensive his refusal and responses to continue to be. The leader of Reform UK has faced significant allegations regarding antisemitism and racism, largely stemming from his time as a student at Dulwich College in the late 1970s and early 1980s, alongside criticism of his political rhetoric in later years.
Over 20 former classmates and teachers report having witnessed Farage engage in racist and antisemitic behaviour, including singing ‘gas ’em all’ songs, mimicking gas hissing sounds, and telling Jewish pupils that ‘Hitler was right’. Jewish contemporaries have recalled him as a school bully who targeted them and other ethnic minority students with abusive language.
Farage has either denied these claims, calling them ‘complete made-up fantasies’, or, in an apparent admission of their truth, has claimed he never intended to be hurtful or racist, dismissing his past comments as nothing more than ‘banter’.
A 1981 letter from a teacher previously described him as a ‘publicly professed racist’ with ‘neo-fascist views’, according to reports. In recent months, 11 Holocaust survivors have joined calls for Farage to apologise for the alleged school-era antisemitic remarks, but Farage’s response has not been to deny or to apologise, but to claim his critics are ‘politically motivated’.
Jewish groups and MPs have also criticised Farage for using the term ‘globalist’ to describe public figures, describing it as an antisemitic ‘dog whistle’. Farage has been accused of adopting antisemitic tropes by labelling financier George Soros ‘the biggest danger to the entire western world’ and alleging a ‘globalist’ plot, themes often linked to far-right conspiracy theories. Farage has gladly been guest on far-right US shows, with hosts such as Alex Jones and Rick Wiles, who has made overtly antisemitic claims, such as calling a political event a ‘Jew coup’.
And so, it is nothing less than galling to see Farage visit Golder’s Green after last week’s attack, trying to make political capital in advance of tomorrow’s local elections out of the mounting fears of antisemitism in the Jewish community, and accusing the government of failing to respond adequately to rising antisemitism, arguing that political considerations are preventing stronger action, particularly fear of offending a key voting bloc of Muslim South Asians.
My worst experience of racism was at a bus stop late one evening, when two burly men stood by me, one on either side, and started a conversation across me with each other with one saying: ‘’itler was right about ’em.’ I have no doubt it was my beard, black hat and black coat.
The coward’s response would have been to tell them that I’m not Jewish. It may have implied it was not OK to victimise me but was OK to victimise people who are Jews. And once one group of racists identify or perceive you as a Jew, you are always going to be a Jew in the eyes of racists and antisemites everywhere, no matter what ruling is made by a beth din, no matter what definitions are built into the Law of Return, no matter how narrow interpretations and applications of Halakha may be. On the other hand, even Chabad activits approach me on the streets, from London to Paris or Krakow, and ask me very direct questions about my identity.
In a recent discussion on a social media platform on how people are perceived as being Jews, one contributor wrote: ‘You will always be a Jew no matter what. When I was a kid I told my father I hated being a Jew and did not want to be one anymore, he told me you will always be a Jew. When the nazis come, you will be a Jew. When the PLO hijacks a plane and takes the Jews, you will be a Jew.’
My father grew up playing on the streets of ‘Little Jerusalem’ in Portobello in Dublin, where many of his uncles and cousins lived and where his schoolboy friends included Chaim Herzog and the Levitas brothers. I was born a few doors a way from the synagogue on Rathfarnham Road and I too played on those same streets in my younger schooldays, familiar with the small shuls on Walworth Road, Lennox Street, Lombard Street, Saint Kevin’s Parade and Oakfield Place, and the larger synagogues then on the South Circular Road and Adelaide Road. The late Kevin Martin, ‘a cousin of cousins’, was an expert in Sephardic genealogy, and constantly encouraged me to explore our shared stories of the Comerford, Mendoza, Martinez and Nunez families and his descent from the family of the Irish-Jewish prize fighter Daniel Mendoza.
But in today’s climate of induced fear, many Jews are increasingly afraid of openly discussing or displaying their identity, of having that long beard and black hat and coat. For my part, I have suspended my once regular blog postings, often on a Friday evening, discussing the history, architecture and heritage of synagogues, for fear of adding to the feelings of vulnerability among the people and congregations using those synagogues. This fear was confirmed yesterday with news of a fire at the former East London Central Synagogue on Nelson Street in east London. I have written about this synagogue many times in the past, including its recent sale to a Muslim group. Police are concerned that the attack on Tuesday morning may be part of an arson campaign linked to Iran, and now I am concerned about writing about other synagogues and their locations in the weeks, possibly months, ahead.
None of these fears and concerns takes away in any way from the reality of the disgusting misogyny that makes women feel afraid on our streets, the open Islamophobia that sees verbal and physical attacks on Muslims on the streets and on mosques, and the unfettered racism that is expressed against refugees, asylum seekers and immigrants but, is in fact, targeting all minorities of Africa and Asian heritage or descent, and even many with European origins. All this combines in a lethal cocktail that is being stirred by the far-right and that is being served up by their candidates in these elections.
The Labour politician Margaret Hodge, who was born in Alexandria in 1944 to Jewish parents who had fled Germany and Austria, has spoken of how her father advised her always to keep a packed suitcase by the front door. That fear has returned to many Jewish people in recent years, in an atmosphere that must not be linked only with the current crisis in the Middle East, but also with the actions and statements from far-right parties, their candidates and their leaders.
We have nation-wide local elections tomorrow. I shall be up early in the morning to vote: democracy has come at a very heavy price in too many countries, and once it is eroded it is very difficult to recover, as people in Hungary have learned, and as voters in the US are going to realise later this year.
How we vote tomorrow may determine whether the racist atmosphere on our streets is given permission to become even more vocal and more extreme, whether Farage becomes more smug about the past he agressievly sidesteps away from whenever he is challenged about it, hectoring and berating the interviewers while smiling smugly, and whether many people feel the need now to pay greater heed to the advice from previous generations to ‘always keep a packed suitcase by the front door’.
I shall be hoping for a better result tomorrow evening in the second leg of the Europa League semi-final between Aston Villa and Nottingham Forest. But I fear for the results from tomorrow’s elections.
