Ultimately, the FAI and the Government choose the path of palatable consequences, even if it is not necessarily the path of least resistance. Their decision to proceed with Ireland’s Nations League fixtures against Israel will lead to condemnation and outrage and protests outside the Aviva Stadium in October and a bitter boycott by thousands of fans.
But all of that was budgeted into this decision. For the FAI and the Government those outcomes are manageable. In explaining their decision, the FAI tipped its cap, respectfully, to the infuriated constituency of objectors but bowed to expediency. It was never going to be a matter of conscience.
In a letter to members of the FAI’s general assembly, the FAI president Paul Cooke outlined the potential consequences of not playing the games against Israel. They were framed in reductive terms: forfeiting six points in the Nations League would raise the possibility of relegation to League C – which, in turn, would impact negatively on Ireland’s seeding for the Euro 2028 qualification tournament.
A cowed reference was also made to the “significant financial and regulatory consequences” the FAI would suffer if the games weren’t played, although Cooke was at pains to stress that the FAI’s decision was “not financially motivated”.
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None of that is principled, or courageous, or morally upstanding. Those responses were beyond their capacity. Politics in sport is a game within a game. In that playbook, justifications are readily available. On Wednesday, the FAI returned to the shelter of the herd.
Separately, in a press briefing, the FAI’s chief executive David Courell insisted that Uefa “understands the very strongly held views in Ireland on this subject”. He also said that Uefa had “not threatened anything. They have not indicated any deeper sanctions”.
But the FAI was never going to take that risk. In these situations, nobody chooses to be isolated. There is no protection for conscientious objectors. Every decision is political. The consequences of those decisions are political. The punishments are political.
In this case, the FAI has chosen to take its punishment at home.
None of this is new. In matters of geopolitics, or wars, or atrocities – such as the genocide in Gaza – sport has always been selective and muddled in its responses. Historically, there is no settled pattern of good behaviour. On a case-by-case basis, sport has sometimes done something admirable or consequential, but it cannot be depended upon to do the right thing, or to know the right thing to do.
There is no agreed, global code of conduct. Sport continues to trip through the wires of world events, treading on landmines.
Russia, for example, has been ostracised from international sport for its invasion of Ukraine four years ago, but was not punished by the global sports community for its invasion of Crimea in 2014. At the time, there was no uproar. Who drew that line? Why does the line keep moving? Who moves it? How?
Through the decades, Irish sport, in tandem with the Irish government, has been incoherent in its responses to events such as these. In 1980, the United States led a boycott of the Moscow Olympics in protest at Russia’s invasion of Afghanistan; 64 other countries followed suit, but not Ireland.
Yet, in 1999, the Irish government, with the support of the FAI, refused entry visas to the Yugoslavian football team in the wake of the ethnic cleansing in Kosovo. Uefa threatened a litany of consequences if the Euro qualifier wasn’t played, but the Irish government and the FAI refused to blink.
Ultimately the FAI was fined 50,000 Swiss francs and the game was played three months later, but only after a peace deal had been agreed between Nato and the Serbs. In Gaza, at least 600 lives have been lost since the peace deal was signed; the starvation of Palestinians continues.
The logistics of how the fixture in Dublin will be staged will be thrashed out in due course. An Garda Síochána have assured the FAI that the game can be played in a “safe and secure” environment. Courell was quizzed about the prospect of protests inside and outside the ground, but he wouldn’t be drawn. In both settings, it is inevitable.
When Norway played Israel recently, no travelling fans were allowed, but up to 1,000 locally based Israeli fans attended the game. Is it reasonable to expect that no Israeli fans will be in the Aviva? How will that play out?
Before Christmas West Midlands police in Britain banned Maccabi Tel Aviv fans from a Europa League game against Aston Villa in Birmingham. That decision was pointedly criticised by British prime minster Keir Starmer and caused widespread outrage. A House of Commons select committee report on the matter, published last weekend, was heavily critical of the police force and its “use of intelligence”. An Garda Síochána will face those challenges in October, and before.
Nothing good will come of this.
