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Last April, in Barcelona's 99,000-seat Camp Nou stadium, the much-anticipated final game of the
Copa del Rey soccer championship began. Just before kick-off, Felipe VI, the King of Spain, to whom
the tournament lends its name, stood in the stands with his typical dignified, austere expression. On
the pitch, players of the two teams, the Basque Country's Athletic Club Bilbao and FC Barcelona,
stood in a line as tradition calls for, arms behind their backs. Then, the Spanish national anthem
played.
The King did not look like he was having a good time.
During the playing of the anthem, fans began whistling (a generally understood gesture of
disrespect), and the music soon became inaudible. Blowing in whistles handed out at the beginning
of the match, the fans reached a noise level of a deafening 119 decibels. YouTube videos show the
typically unaffected faces of the players from both teams even during the particularly raucous
display, but also the dismay of Vicente del Bosque, the manager of the Spanish national team that
won the World Cup in 2010. But there was one face in the stands, that of Artur Mas, the president of
the local Catalan government, who stood next to the King and couldn't help but let a smirk slide
across his face. Everyone there knew what was going on.
After the anthem ended, then came the chants: "In, inde, independencia!" And in addition to the
orange and red cards placed on the seats by the stadium staff (which, when held up by the fans,
form an enormous quasi-Catalonian Senyera banner surrounding the grass field), there emerged
several of the starred Estelada Blava. Both the Senyera and the Estelada are often used as symbols
of the Catalonian independence political movement.
It has since been revealed that the whistling ordeal was organized in part by Catalonian political
action group Catalua Acci. Its president, Santiago Espot, considers himself, and by extension
Catalonia, victims of the same sort of oppression that was dealt out in Inquisition-era Spain and
during the dictatorship under Franco. In his view, Catalonia is a disenfranchised victim of a forced
cultural assimilation and oppression. For years a follower of FC Barcelona (also know as Bara), Mr.
Espot sees in sports a valid platform for political peddling.
As a product of a young, highly individualistic culture born of a revolution against imperialism, it is
easy for me to disparage the idea of a monarchy. But it is also easy to notice when blatant disrespect
is being directed at a symbolic figurehead. Why would soccer fans in the year 2015 jeer the King of
Spain? Put simply, it is because of the anachronistic view that the powers that be are still, to this
day, oppressing cultures that are desperate to be recognized as wholly distinct from the traditional
Spanish identity, Catalonia being the example at hand (the Basque Country has also long been
associated with an independence campaign themselves, with famously brutal and violent
manifestations, which seem to have tapered off in recent years). But the obvious problem, I would
argue, may not be whether the Catalonia's complaints are legitimate or not, rather it Wiziwig is the
venue of the protest.
Spain's State Commission Against Violence, Racism, Xenophobia and Intolerance in Sport have
expressed like concerns, having fined FC Barcelona 66,000 ($71,900) for their fans' behavior and
failing to quell an anticipated public disturbance.
FC Barcelona has framed the fine as unjust, while Watch barcelona maintaining support for their
fans' behavior as a "reflection of a sentiment, which [the Club] fully respects."
So, what does a years-long fan of FC Barcelona like me do? Do I simply take these incidents as mere
cultural peculiarities? Should I relish or reject the esoteric insults to vague establishment symbols of
Spain? Should I jump on the Catalonia independence bandwagon? And if not, am I somehow
supporting a cause I don't identify with? Do I pretend that "ms que un club" is just a good-natured
motto? When the European Champions League season comes around, and I once again get into the
mood to watch a soccer game with my friends, where will I be able to simply watch the game
without somehow injecting myself in political affairs?
One idea occurs to me. Living a kilometer away from another soccer stadium, the Santiago Bernabu,
and as a transplanted Madrileo, I think I know where I'll start.