Ultras in mourning: how a massacre, revolutionary aftermath and politics killed Egyptian football

Mohammed El Raai/AP/Press Association Images. All rights reserved.When the
final whistle sounded, tragedy ensued in Port Said.

The attack
came in waves. Swarms of unidentified men armed with knives, flares and rocks
flooded the football pitch in pursuit of the Al Ahly team following their 3-1
loss to Al-Masry.

The first
wave targeted the players, dressed in their infamous red and white attire, and
chased them off the field and into the relative safety of the locker rooms.

The second
wave of thugs focused on the Ultras fans. They encircled the infamous
anti-authoritarian Ultras supporters, outnumbered and confused, and began the
bloodiest massacre in Egyptian sports history.  

For those
who watched the events unfold live on television on February 1, 2012, the chaotic scene was
difficult to decipher, and very few could have anticipated the extent of the
bloody violence that occurred in the stands, the locker rooms, and the tunnels
leading towards the exit.

Those who
were able to fight their way to the tunnel were trampled as they attempted to
exit the building – the gates had been sealed shut, enclosing the fighting from
the outside world and ensuring the horrific fallout. 

74 people were killed that day,
including 72 Ultras supporters. 500 Egyptian citizens were wounded in the assault. Some were beaten to
death with clubs and sticks; some were stabbed; others were trampled. The scene
in the locker rooms hours later was as heart wrenching as it was traumatic. 

Those who
survived the attack watched as medics attempted to revive their friends, and
cried and moaned in pain for those who would not wake up. One screamed for his
brother, seemingly unaware of the crimson
mask of blood
pouring from his head. 

The reckless
passing of so much wasted youth angered the previously resilient Ultras, and
began the slow decay of Egyptian football.

Ultras as pseudo-politicians

In the
aftermath of the Port Said massacre, the Ultras emerged as an overt political
force that campaigned for retribution and justice while patiently awaiting the
courts to rule in their favor. 73 culprits were arrested and put on trial for
their actions. However, their faith in the judicial system appeared to have
been in vain.

Of the few police
officers arrested, most were acquitted of all charges, while 21 hired thugs
were sentenced to death. Several other thugs involved received life sentences,
but most of the police force allegedly responsible and complicit in the attacks
were either set free or never faced trial. Disillusioned, the Ultras decided to
take matters into their own hands. 

“Port Said
was significant,” observes Ahmed Abdulla, an Egyptian professor of psychology, when
asked about tragedy’s impact on the Ultras’ identity. “It’s rooted in people’s
minds.  It is in the Ultras conscious and
subconscious. They even now have a saying, ‘Once a fan went to support his team
and died.’”

The group
began to pressure the authorities and demanded retrials. When they were
ignored, Ultras members stormed the Football Federation and torched the Police Officer’s Club. They demanded that the Egyptian
Football league be brought to a halt until the Port Said verdicts were read.
They eventually got their way.

Despite
being out for violent vengeance, the group still had some sympathizers. Many,
including foreign media sources, believed the attack was not the
culmination of Egyptian hooliganism (already uncommon between opposing teams)
but a politically motivated attack on the well-organized Ultras Ahlawy supporters
who had been instrumental during the 2011 uprising.

The
football fans’ presence and exceptional influence during the revolution was
undeniable, which caused many to believe that remnants of Mubarak’s regime had been
settling the score. The massacre could also be interpreted as an attempt to
intimidate them into never opposing future regimes.

During the
Ultras’ quest for justice for their fallen brothers in mid-2012, Egypt was
preparing to host its first free elections since the fall of president Mubarak.
The Ultras, a symbol of anti-authoritarianism and youth politics, became
bastions of hope for religious parties that attempted to gather support.

Of all
civic organizations in Egypt at the time, the Ultras may have been the second
largest after the Muslim Brotherhood. However, when Ultras members or factions
campaigned for one party or another, it led to clear divisions in a once-united group. Political parties were able to
hijack the Ultras’ longstanding fight with the old regime and bastardize their
beliefs.  

The Port
Said Massacre was the tragically pivotal moment that transformed a football fan
club of revolutionaries into a political entity, and when the Muslim
Brotherhood emerged victorious, the Ultras’ struggle took a turn for the worse. 

Changing tides

The Port
Said massacre not only exacerbated Ultras participation in politics, but reinvigorated conservative campaigns against the Ultras and their
supposed brand of football-violence. For many, the events that occurred that
day were due to a lack of law and order and an impotent police force unable to
complete their duty.

Hooliganism
was seen as the cause by many religious and conservative members of society.
Ironically, the harrowing events that occurred because of a complicit and
apathetic police force sparked a call for police reform and Mubarak-era law enforcement
brutality to quench violence.  

Amid public
opinion swaying against them and a newly-minted presidency unopposed to bringing
about their downfall, the Ultras had been weakened beyond recognition. Clear
divisions appeared among the groups, who began to voice different demands.

Some called
for revenge, others for police reform, while some demanded participation in
politics. The fragmentation of the once-united revolutionaries was complete.

By 2013,
the Ultras no longer had a clear set of ideals or even a football team to
support. Police harassment increased and peaceful protests were quenched with
decisive brutality. Those who once sympathized with the Ultras’ cause no longer
preached their values or mouthed support.

Egyptians
were fatigued with the revolution, and the Ultras were a constant reminder of
their failings since January 25, 2011. In a matter of years, the Ultras went
from heroes and revolutionaries to terrorists and troublemakers.

And while
the essence of the group will continue to fight for autonomy and freedom in the
form of demonstrations in Tahrir Square and other places, their role in the
public sphere has already undergone permanent damage. In the words of one
Ultras leader asked to sum up the group’s achievements by 2013: 

“Everything
has changed, yet nothing has really changed.”

The final entry of
this four-part series will look at the Ultras’ position in 2016 and analyze
their complicated legacy.