Galling as it may be to admit this, it is possible that in the Great Poppy Stramash of 2011 FIFA is right and the Football Association is wrong. Perhaps that puts it too strongly. Let me put it this way: were I in charge of FIFA, I’d make an exception to their general prohibition on “political statements and symbols” to allow England to adorn their shirts with poppies for their friendly match against Spain this weekend. But were I running the FA I’d respond to FIFA’s silly reluctance to make any such exception by saying “Well, we think this unfortunate but there it is. Let’s get on with the game.”
And if the Football Association really wants to make a point about all this then perhaps it could write a hefty cheque – at least £100,000 – to the Poppy Appeal? That would be a better use of its time than stoking the kind of synthetic outrage that all too sadly has become one of this country’s most productive manufacturing industries. (It also merits mentioning that 15 years ago it would never have occurred to the FA that England shirts should be poppified.)
Once politicians start weighing in (is it too cynical to suppose Downing Street will not be distressed if the Poppy Wars shunt more pressing or embarrassing matters down the newslist on the teevee tonight?) then it becomes difficult to maintain the pretence that there’s nothing political about the poppy.
The sad truth is that sporting the poppy now frequently says as much about the wearer of the red as it does about the memory of the war dead. It has been politicised and worse still cheapened.
The poor humble poppy has become a vainglorious opportunity for ululationary ostentation. See how much we care! Why don’t you care as much? When contestants on the X-Factor use the poppy as some kind of fashion accessory you know something grim has happened to the annual acts of remembrance. This is a much graver issue than FIFA’s shop-stewardesque insistence that their rules are rules and that’s the end of the matter and common sense be damned.
There is, alas, something vulgar about this craving to be seen to show how much you care. Never mind how much you really care, just be seen to be seen to be caring. “Poppy fascism” is a revolting term but there’s also something pretty ghastly about “Poppy Monitoring” and the subsequent excoriation of anyone deemed to have “disrespected” the poppy, the dead and by extension Britain itself. (I’m tempted to make an exception for Celtic supporters but they too have the right to behave like fools and Fifth Columnists.)
Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday are important, even noble occasions. They deserve better than to be treated in this fashion. They “work” because they combine individual reflection with communal remembrance, marrying private with public in ways all the more moving for being voluntary and, consequently, meaningful. Real remembrance, then, is utterly distinct from the kind of brouhaha we have endured these past few days.
I write this, incidentally and just so you know, as someone who over the years has given plenty of money to the Earl Haig Fund and who supports, for whatever little this may be worth, the football team most closely associated with the horrors of the Great War.
UPDATE: Victory! Stick it up your Blatter!
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