“Genocide” “Ignorance, Hypocrisy, Stupidity” Yup, it’s those football matches.
We are now in a bizarre state of purgatory between those two matches.
In case anybody has completely missed this increasingly sorry and bitter saga, the controversy surrounding UEFA Nations League matches between Ireland and Israel has occupied an extraordinary amount of Irish political, sporting and media attention for almost six months.
It has now reached fever pitch in Ireland.
The Irish Times recently accused Israel of “entirely blotting out the sun”.
Dark hyperbole indeed.
The matches, by contrast, perhaps to the surprise of Irish readers, had largely gone unnoticed in Israel,
That changed with the provocative words from Ireland’s coach Heimir Hallgrimsson last week
“We’re not playing with genocide; we’re playing against genocide”
Those words prompted an unusually fierce reaction in Tel Aviv.
“We’re not playing with ignorance, hypocrisy and stupidity; we’re playing against the coach who embodies them”, the Israeli Football Association shot back.
After months of protests and calls for a boycott, Ireland eventually kick off against Israel in the first of two legs, at the Nagyerdei Stadion in Debrecen, Hungary, on Sunday.
The score, 3-0 to Ireland.
The performative drama was, well dramatic. The Irish team, wearing black armbands, bowed their heads when Israel’s national anthem played to a near-empty stadium. They refused to shake hands with the Israeli players.
The return fixture is in Serbia next week, behind closed doors.
Despite the pressure, RTÉ, Ireland’s national broadcaster, broadcast the match, citing its contractual obligations. No studio punditry or commentary was provided.
An Irish problem to an Irish solution.
Perhaps.
The FAI has faced intense pressure to walk away from both fixtures. Two words: Gaza. Genocide.
“Acts of genocide.” “A genocidal regime.” “Genocide is bigger than football” “The ongoing genocide being committed by Israel.” — language repeatedly used by Irish sports personalities this summer.
Genocide accusations have also, of course, entered Israeli politics.
The testimony of 24 Israeli military and intelligence insiders in the Israeli documentary NAZA has also brought the conduct of the war into Israel’s political and media debate, including allegations denied by the IDF that the killing of 500 Palestinian civilians was tolerated in the targeted killing of a single Hamas terrorist.
Few in Ireland need to see the film to grasp the horror unleashed on Gaza. Unlike most Israeli television viewers, Irish audiences have watched that horror unfold nightly for two years.
Given the intensity of the rhetoric around boycotting anything Israeli, from music to football, will an Israeli documentary, directed by two Israeli filmmakers and largely filmed in Tel Aviv, even make it onto Irish cinema screens?
Perhaps a more basic question: who exactly decides which Israelis (or non-Israelis, for that matter) are subject to a boycott and which are not?
The Afghanistan men’s cricket team was warmly welcomed in Ireland this summer. No comparable campaign was mounted to boycott the team. The harrowing treatment of Afghan women and girls has been extensively documented, including the recent Guardian podcast, The 21 Million Women and the Girls the World Forgot.
One could be forgiven for thinking the embarrassment of that welcome, prompted Michael Martin, Irish Taoiseach (Irish Prime Minister), to include the following words in his UN address last week.
Sorry, Taoiseach, but Ireland’s solidarity patently disappeared this summer.
Irish boycotts evidently can get messy.
The Irish Government passed legislation earlier this year banning the import of goods from Israeli settlements in the occupied Palestinian territory.
RTÉ, the national broadcaster, reported however last week that Helen McEntee, Ireland’s foreign minister, said that “her focus was on sanctions on Israeli goods and services to be brought forward on an EU-wide basis”, an apparent ratcheting-up of the Irish Government’s boycott policy.
When contacted, neither RTÉ nor the DFA (Department of Foreign Affairs) Press Office either confirmed or denied RTÉ’s account of the Minister’s remarks.
Perhaps the Minister was on a solo run; perhaps RTÉ paraphrased the Minister incorrectly.
Sally Rooney, an award-winning Irish author, refused in 2021 to allow an Israeli publisher to publish her novel. She said she was not boycotting the Hebrew language. But with no secular publisher outside Israel involved, how were Hebrew readers expected to read it? She has since changed her mind.
Boycotts no doubt are complicated.
For many in Ireland, the Israeli football team should clearly be boycotted. The fact that three Palestinian players are among the 27-man squad: Anan Khalaili, Mohammad Abu Fani and Sayed Abu Farchi is an inconvenient footnote. Fair enough. The complexity of Israeli society doesn’t easily lend itself to blanket perhaps doesn’t warrant much nuance in Ireland..
The FAI’s request to avoid Israel in any future UEFA competition draws – in effect a permanent boycott of matches against the Israeli team – raises deeper questions. UEFA dismissed the request, saying their “do not draw” list is based “on direct conflicts, not public sentiment”.
Reading and listening to the Irish media, I’m not sure the Irish fixation with all things Israel can honestly be described as “sentiment”.
Criticism of Israel is legitimate. Accusations of genocide are legitimate. Boycotts are legitimate. But the language of demonisation, dehumanisation and outright hate of all things Israeli, particularly online, has soared in Ireland in the past few weeks.
As an Irishman, I ask my fellow Irish citizens what, exactly, we are boycotting: Israel, the Occupation, the Netanyahu government, Zionism, Zionists — or simply anything and anyone Israeli?
Are my Israeli daughters Zionists, or should I wait until they are older to ask? Were they born Zionists, or do they have to choose? As Jewish Israelis, are they expected to embrace or renounce Zionism when they turn 18? How much time do they have to decide – one year, two – before it is legitimate to declare: “We don’t serve Zionists”?
We played; we did not attend; we broadcast, but broadcasters would not offer punditry.
Are we watching?
Apparently not.
The Irish boycott apparently now extends to a 140-pub blackout of the matches in Ireland.
I will be watching the next match on Monday from Tel Aviv and supporting the Irish football team.
I asked my nine-year-old Israeli daughter whom she would be cheering for.
“I don’t know, Daddy; I think I’ll support Ireland,” she replied.
Perhaps the 3-0 score last Sunday convinced her.
