Thursday, May 14, 2020

Plandemic: how the debunked movie by discredited researcher Judy Mikovits went viral

Jason Wilson

Australia’s response to the coronavirus pandemic has been better than most but the ‘infodemic’ presents another challenge as millions watch conspiracy theory video online

Thu 14 May 2020
 
Anti-vaxx protestors at a Covid-19 lockdown protest in Melbourne last Sunday. The anti-vaxx movement has been behind the spread of debunked movie Plandemic featuring discredited researcher Judy Mikovits. Photograph: Speed Media/REX/Shutterstock

The coronavirus emergency, and the pressure cooker of the lockdowns, have fused a number of conspiracy theories in the minds of believers. They have also drawn a number of conspiracy-minded movements closer together.

A snippet of an upcoming film, Plandemic, went viral with astonishing speed when it was released last week. In the process, it showed how false beliefs generated within the anti-vaxxer movement have become interwoven with familiar far-right conspiracy narratives.

It also demonstrated that by combining the efforts of grassroots believers and charismatic influencers, anti-vaxxers have become adept at producing and disseminating viral propaganda to mainstream audiences.


Australian celebrities and ordinary social media users were central to last week’s disinformation surge.

The piece of film which researchers say received millions of Facebook interactions in just a few short days was an interview with the discredited virologist, Judy Mikovits, by a Californian film-maker and new-age “wellness” advocate, Mikki Willis.

Mikovits’s scientific career began falling apart from 2009, when she published a paper in Science attributing chronic fatigue syndrome to the effects of a virus. The paper’s claims did not hold up, it was retracted, and ensuing conflicts between Mikovits and her employer, a private lab, culminated in her arrest in 2012 on charges of being a fugitive from justice, after she allegedly absconded with notebooks and proprietary data. Criminal charges were later dropped, according to reports.


Since then she has alleged she has been the victim of widespread corruption in the scientific community, and has presented antivaxx-friendly autism conferences with baseless theories about how viruses play a role in causing the disease. Many anti-vaxxers believe that vaccines such as the measles, mumps, rubella (MMR) vaccine causes autism in children, a claim that has been extensively debunked.

Now she has a book, Plague of Corruption, outlining these alongside other theories and grievances.

Willis, the interviewer, who has described himself on Facebook as a “father, film-maker, activist” has been an actor and an eclectic film-maker for some years.
His work often has a political flavour – he made videos in support of the Bernie Sanders campaign in 2016 and did the same for Tulsi Gabbard during her presidential campaign (his Facebook wall reveals him to have been a vocal supporter of both politicians).

He has also made yoga and meditation videos, and the film nonprofit he founded in 2006 co-produced a film on the wellness effects of psychedelic drugs. Willis told the LA Times he made the Plandemic film himself at little cost; researchers have pointed to fundraising by prominent conspiracy theorists aimed at publicising Mikovits’s book.

The claims Mikovits made in the interview – about her own career, the possibility that the virus was engineered by humans, and the proper epidemiological approach to containing it – were serially debunked, not least in Science, which also did a sweeping 2011 postmortem on what led to the publication of her later-retracted 2009 paper.


They also played directly into established anti-vaxxer beliefs, which have become integrated into broader, conspiracy-minded, mostly rightwing anti-lockdown narratives.

These include the idea that the virus was human-made, possibly in the Wuhan laboratory; that mandatory vaccination is a project by big pharma profiteers that will kill millions; that public health authorities (including Dr Anthony Fauci) are corrupt and not to be trusted.

There is no evidence for any of this, as many outlets have shown. In some cases, as with the claim about bioengineering, the best science indicates the opposite to be true.

On their own, her claims don’t sound plausible, but her specialist qualification is a boon for anti-vaxxers who generally find no support among professional medical researchers.

And Willis is a skilled film-maker, as revealed in a showreel released under the Elevate brand earlier this year.

Erin Gallagher, an independent researcher who specialises in the real-time analysis of viral disinformation outbreaks, said that in this case, the fillm-maker’s art was a central factor in propelling the film to every corner of Facebook.

“The documentary was very well made with professional lighting, nice camera angles, dramatic music,” she said in a social media direct message. “It looks legit. We tend to accept anything in documentary format as fact, especially when it looks good,” she added.

But also crucial was the large number of Facebook groups, and anti-vaxx and “wellness” influencers who were primed to spread the message. In this respect, Australian anti-vaxxers had a global impact.

Gallagher’s research shows that an Australia-led Facebook group, “99% unite Main Group ‘it’s us or them’”, was one of the central nodes which spread links to the video, and Judy Mikovits’s name, across Facebook.

At the time of Gallagher’s analysis, that group had 32,052 members; now that figure has shot up to 43,588.

Other groups spreading the video include those devoted to the false idea that aircraft vapour trails are “chemtrails” containing dangerous chemicals; groups in support of conservatives such as Donald Trump or broadcaster Rush Limbaugh, and another group associated with the “QAnon” conspiracy theory.

The spread of disinformation during the pandemic has also been aided by charismatic influencers. Australian celebrity chef Pete Evans, who recently lost a lucrative on-air role at Channel Seven, has spread both anti-vaccine and QAnon-related material on his social media accounts in recent days.


On Facebook and Instagram, Evans posted a diagram claiming to show that Bill Gates is connected to health authorities, universities, international organisations and pharmaceutical companies who have played a role in fighting the pandemic, inciting his audience to “Comment if you like ... and join the dots”.

In a since-deleted Instagram story, he presented his followers with a notorious diagram including the conspiracy claims of the QAnon movement, and also suggesting the existence of “inner earth civilizations”, a slave colony on Mars and that the arrest of a “cabal” will lead immediately to the technology of “wireless energy”.

On 7 May, at the height of its viral spread, he also posted a copy of the “Plandemic” video on Facebook, telling followers, “Would love to know your thoughts as the person being interviewed has a fascinating story.”

The video was shared 218 times from Evans’s account.

Around the world, anti-vaxxers have been increasingly prominent participants in, and even organisers of, anti-lockdown street protests.

One of the moderators of the “99% Unite” was arrested along with nine others at a similar protest in Melbourne last weekend, after giving a speech in which he said, among other things, that he had promised his father that he would never be implanted with a microchip.

The crowd at the protest at one point chanted “arrest Bill Gates!” – referencing an increasingly prevalent conspiracy theory which asserts that the tech billionaire and philanthropist is involved in a coronavirus-centred plot to bring about mass vaccinations and population control.

In the streets of US cities, anti-vaxxers have marched shoulder to shoulder against shutdowns with a wide spectrum of mostly rightwing organisations – including armed extremists.

Research published by an FBI-associated nonprofit argues that given the obstacle they present to herd immunity, in a pandemic, anti-vaxxers may constitute a US national security risk.

The problem of medical misinformation is more acute in the US, which has a much more serious epidemic, a poor federal response, greater inequalities in healthcare and more pronounced social tensions.

But Australians, too, will need to grapple with the fact that local conspiracy movements are now nimble enough to route around whatever safeguards still exist against misinformation.

In “cholera riots” in 19th century Europe, the historian Richard Evans wrote, sometimes “the medical profession came under attack … mainly because it was medical officials who were usually in charge of the implementation of government measures such as the isolation of victims once an epidemic had actually broken out”.

From Russia to Britain, doctors were accused of spreading the disease to deliberately kill the urban poor, to obtain cadavers for vivisection, or to claim fictitious government bounties on dead bodies.

By fire-hosing conspiracy-minded content inside Facebook groups, or through the agency of trusted celebrities, anti-vaxxers, too, are turning misinformed people, dealing with enormous psychological pressure, against health experts and science itself.

The hammer blows being landed on higher education, quality media and the public health system will only make it more difficult to keep our heads on straight.

Australia’s response to the pandemic has been better than most but the infodemic may not be so kind.

Jason Wilson is an Australian journalist living in the USA
Why are Australians smashing their TVs? And what does it have to do with 5G and coronavirus?
Who is Fanos Panayides and why were people protesting with him in Melbourne? One Guardian staffer asked another to explain to them ... quickly

Josh Taylor explains it to Steph Harmon Tue 12 May 2020
 
More than 100 people gather at a protest led by Fanos Panayides in Melbourne, waving placards against coronavirus lockdown, 5G and vaccines. Panayides has gained followers by exhorting them to smash TVs in protest at the media. Photograph: William West/AFP via Getty Images
Hi Josh. I’ve just seen a video in which many Australians appear to be smashing their televisions. What is happening please?

It’s all about a former reality TV star from Melbourne, his growing Facebook following, and protests against the coronavirus lockdown, media, vaccines, 5G and microchips.

Now I am even more confused. How did it start?

In April a former reality TV show star, Fanos Panayides, started a Facebook group called “99% unite Main Group ‘it’s us or them’”. In a month it has grown to nearly 40,000 members.

There is no real united message in the group except for claims people are not being told the whole story on a wide variety of things: from vaccines, to alleged microchips being installed in the population, to conspiracy theories connecting 5G technology to the coronavirus. Some people are simply opposed to the lockdown. It’s a whole grab bag.
cmwlsn(@cameronwilson)

an example of a sign from today's protest that's being circulated in global conspiracy online communities pic.twitter.com/Ql9rp4qlxtMay 10, 2020

Last week Panayides told his followers to smash their TVs in protest of the media “telling us what to think”. Panayides smashed his own TV in his backyard declaring TVs were terrorising the world, and we needed to take the power back. Dozens of his followers followed suit, filming themselves taking hammers and other tools to their own TVs.

Panayides still has a TV, however, because in a later video on Facebook he showed a video of it.

Since then, he and a group of people from the group protested outside parliament over the lockdown in Melbourne on the weekend. Panayides was one of 10 people arrested over the protest, which police said were in breach of the social distancing rules.

Video has circulated online of police moving in to stop Panayides speaking at the event after he attempted to read a verse from Revelations in the Bible which, he says, talks about microchips.

I’ve heard about people attacking cell towers and telecom workers in the UK. Is this the same as that?

In the initial stages of the pandemic, debunked conspiracy theories blaming the 5G rollout for spreading coronavirus proliferated around the world – mainly on Facebook groups like this one. But while the people attacking those towers were likely also influenced by something they read on Facebook, they didn’t come from exactly the same group.

Still, although Facebook has banned posts connecting 5G with coronavirus, it wasn’t hard to find posts on the group complaining about 5G, and connecting it with the Cedar Meats outbreak in Victoria.

How do people think 5G could even spread a virus?

The reasoning varies depending on the conspiracy you are reading, but the most common one seems to be that because 5G was being rolled out in Wuhan at the time of the outbreak, it must have had some role in it (it didn’t). Other conspiracies falsely claim 5G “poisons cells” or makes it easier to catch coronavirus. None of this is true.

Does this all have something to do with controversial reality TV chef and David Icke enthusiast Pete Evans?

Again, also adjacent. A word that keeps coming up in the group is “Plandemic”, and Pete Evans’ increasingly conspiratorial Facebook and Instagram feeds have mentioned this word too.
cam smith(@sexenheimer)

Pete Evans is doing a bit more than flirting with Qanon in his insta stories. pic.twitter.com/XyYzHLohH3May 11, 2020

Plandemic is a 26-minute documentary that is now banned from Facebook for spreading misinformation about coronavirus. Vimeo and YouTube have also removed it from their platforms.

In the video, discredited researcher Judy Mikovits makes a number of inaccurate claims about the origins of Covid-19. One claim, among others, is that Covid-19 is being spread to force vaccines on to the population as a form of control.

Mikovits also falsely claims you can retransmit coronavirus to yourself by wearing a face mask.

This all sounds bonkers. What’s our leadership doing?

The chief health officer Brendan Murphy called out the people trying to connect 5G to coronavirus, stating it was “silly misinformation” and “complete nonsense”. He said: “5G has got nothing at all to do with coronavirus.”

Prime minister Scott Morrison was more sympathetic to the protesters over the weekend, stating he understood their frustrations over the restrictions.

“It’s a free country, people will make their protest and make their voices heard. But equally, that needs to be done in an appropriate way and it needs to respect the law enforcement authorities who are just simply trying to do their job. So we understand it’s a difficult time and those issues will be dealt with in the normal way.”

So they’re not doing heaps then.

No – but these protests are not really all that well-attended compared to the ones in the US, so it might be a case of trying to ignore it and hoping it goes away?


Australian public's confidence in 5G 'shaken' by misinformation campaign


Federal parliamentary committee examining rollout says fears over network are being exploited, particularly on social media
Work being carried out on a mobile network tower in Sydney in March. Federal MPs have reported being ‘bombarded’ with letters complaining about the 5G rollout. Photograph: Dan Himbrechts/AAP


Public confidence in the planned 5G network has been significantly undermined by a strong misinformation campaign, an Australian parliamentary committee has admitted.

The House of Representatives committee was established last year to examine the plans for 5G networks in Australia, currently under construction by Telstra, Optus and Vodafone, but the committee received hundreds of submissions from members of the public and groups concerned about perceived health issues associated with 5G networks.

MPs have also reported being “bombarded” with letters complaining about the rollout of 5G.

At hearings held by the committee, those opposed to 5G argued that so-called small cells for the network on every street would make it impossible for them to avoid being “exposed” to 5G, and that rollouts should be stopped until more research was done into the health effects of 5G.

Ten arrested and police officer injured at protest against Victoria’s Covid-19 lockdown laws
Read more 
https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/may/10/ten-arrested-and-police-officer-injured-at-protest-against-victorias-covid-19-lockdown-laws


In the report tabled in parliament on Tuesday evening, the committee, chaired by Nationals MP David Gillespie, expressed concern about 5G misinformation.

“Community confidence in 5G has been shaken by extensive misinformation preying on the fears of the public spread via the internet, and presented as facts, particularly through social media,” the report said.

“The communication of the reality of 5G has been neglected, allowing fears over health and safety, the technology involved and the application of 5G to take hold. Misinformation has filled the vacuum and public confidence in 5G has been shaken.”


The report goes into significant detail to address some of the concerns put forward by those opposed to 5G, including pointing out that the impact of non-ionising radiation has been heavily researched. Initially 5G will operate in the same spectrum band as 4G, and although it will move to higher frequencies in a few years, the report notes “higher frequencies do not mean higher exposure levels”.

The report also counters several of the reports provided by opponents of 5G on the alleged health impacts.

“Unfortunately, a vast amount of misinformation about the safety and impact of 5G is out there,” the committee said.

“Perhaps some confusion comes from the new spectrum bands 5G will use. The committee heard that ‘higher frequency does not mean higher power’, and that, in fact, devices will operate at a lower power due to focusing the 5G signal only to where it is required and the increased number of antennae, which means that users will have less exposure than under previous generations of mobile technology.


“The committee has been assured that 5G is safe.”

In December last year, the federal communications minister, Paul Fletcher, announced $9m in funding to address misinformation about the health impact of telecommunications networks, including more research and public education.

The committee has made several recommendations, including getting the Australian Radiation Protection and Nuclear Safety Agency (Arpansa) to better consult with members of the public about concerns over electromagnetic radiation, and the committee supported the federal government’s education campaign funding.

The report was finalised in March before misinformation began spreading online claiming either 5G was responsible for coronavirus, due to the construction of 5G networks in Wuhan, or for “poisoning cells” that created coronavirus.

The misinformation has been widely spread on Facebook, in particular – a video went viral where a man claiming to be a former Vodafone executive warned the pandemic was a global plot to install 5G and track the population through vaccines.

In reality, the Guardian revealed, the voice on the tape making the baseless claims is an evangelical pastor who had only worked in sales for Vodafone for less than a year in 2014.

Several mobile towers in the UK have been attacked by people as a result of the misinformation, and telecoms workers have reported being harassed by members of the public.

Facebook has since said it is taking “aggressive steps” to remove coronavirus-related misinformation, including linking it to 5G, or encouraging attacks on phone towers.

In Australia, a Nazi flag with #COVID19 written on it was tied to two Chinese flags on a mobile tower in regional Victoria in April.


Last weekend, anti-5G protesters joined anti-lockdown protesters in small protests in Sydney and Melbourne.

The Australian Mobile Telecommunications Association chief executive, Chris Althaus, told Guardian Australia the committee’s hearings made the mobile lobby group realise misinformation had taken hold.

“We realised that there’s a much stronger communications role that we need to play, and we see a role for government in this as well and they have responded to that call. So there’s a lot more to do, and we’re very, very active on doing it.”

Part of the problem, he said, was for most people they had heard about 5G but had not seen how it works.

“Unfortunately, like in a lot of industries with a high technology focus, the latest generation and discussion about the latest generation tends to get out well ahead of its arrival into the market.

“People have gotten used to hearing about it but they haven’t seen it, so we’ve got to do a stronger job now that 5G is coming to market. We’ve got to do a much better job of explaining the opportunities that 5G is going to bring.”

Power of the Orishas : Santeria, an Ancient Religion From Nigeria, Is Making Its Presence Felt in Los Angeles

NEAR THE EAST END of the Silver Lake district, at the edge of Echo Park, three little shops--Botanica El Monte, Botanica El Indio and Botanica El Negro Jose--lie within a mile or so of each other. Signs above the doors advertise articulos religiosos , along with flowers, herbs and gifts, and the windows display statues of Jesus, the Virgin Mother and various Catholic saints. A few of these figurines are black, but most have a traditional appearance.
Yet when one enters El Monte, the largest of the botanicas , it is immediately apparent that this is no ordinary religious-goods outlet. Many of the customers are dressed in white, from their hats to their shoes, and they wear beaded bracelets around their wrists. Brightly colored beads and porcelain pots of exotic shapes and patterns are arrayed under glass counters. On the walls behind the counters are charms and shelves of candles inscribed with simple prayers, as well as packets of roots, leaves and other herbal remedies. Incense thickens the air.
In the back of the room, several fierce-looking, near-life-size wooden statues of black men and women sit in a semicircle around a pile of firewood--some holding drums, some with cigars stuck in their mouths, some draped in fine fabric and sporting crowns on their heads, some naked as newborn children.
Meet the black saints. They’ve come to live in the city of angels.
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B OTANICAS ARE MULTIPLYINGin Spanish-speaking neighborhoods throughout the Los Angeles area. There are dozens now, and they exist primarily to serve the followers of Santeria, a religion that shares its roots with voodoo. Several glimpses of the religion’s practices have surfaced in the media in recent months: In a summer thriller called “The Believers,” a Santeria priest performed a ritual animal sacrifice to help protagonist Martin Sheen. Last fall, devotees of the religion protested a Hialeah, Fla., ban on animal sacrifices, labeling the action religious persecution. Southern California’s small but growing Cuban community forms the core of the religion, and there are growing numbers of converts among black Americans and other Caribbean and Latin American nationals. As the Santeria presence grows, say local experts, there is likely to be an increasing amount of cultural conflict here, particularly over the practice of ritual animal sacrifice, which occupies a central place in the religion.
Precise figures on the number of Santeria believers in Southern California are impossible to come by, but estimates by sociologists and from within the religion range from 50,000 to 100,000 and rising. If these numbers, which include both casual and devout believers, are accurate, Los Angeles is now the third-largest center for Santeria in the United States, behind only Miami and New York. Subtle signs of its influence abound. A coconut with shells for eyes displayed in a Cuban restaurant may be more than a decoration: It’s also an image of the Santeria god Elegua. And salsa musicians clad in white and wearing colored beads may be Santeria priests. Salsa rhythms are based on African drumming used in Santeria, and a number of musicians have been drawn to the faith.
Brought from Nigeria to the New World between the 16th and 19th centuries by slaves from the West African Yoruba tribe, Santeria has survived hundreds of years of isolation from Africa with its belief system fundamentally intact. It has done so by secretly identifying Yoruba deities, known as orishas , with Catholic saints who represent similar virtues.
In Haiti, the Yoruba mingled with the Fon people from Dahomey to produce Vodun, or voodoo. In Brazil, Yoruba-based religion is known as Macumba, or Candomble. In Cuba, it is also known as Lucumi, after the Yoruba word for friend.
In Los Angeles, it goes mainly by Santeria, Spanish for “worship of saints.”
The religion of the Yoruba recognizes one supreme being who created the universe, but it holds that God entrusted the orishas with watching over the world. Orishas are similar to the ancient Greek gods in that each represents both a force of nature and a set of human behavorial characteristics, or archetypes. Initiates are baptized under the orisha with whom they have the closest personal affinity, as determined by an elder in a spiritual “reading,” and that orisha becomes the initiate’s guardian angel. Full-fledged priests, known in Santeria as santeros , are said to possess ache , the magical power of the saints.
All the Yoruba-based religions stress respect for ancestors and the use of ritual music, usually drumming, to communicate with the spirit world. Priests toss or roll cowrie shells and use other numerological methods to divine the future, and they make frequent offerings to the gods, including, at times, the sacrifice of live animals. Followers believe that the gods intervene in the day-to-day lives of believers, who might, on occasion, be possessed by the spirit of an orisha.
Over this African foundation have been laid the trappings of Catholicism. To a traditional Santeria believer, St. Peter is really Oggun, the West African patron of metals, miners and working people. The warrior orisha Chango is disguised as St. Barbara, the red-robed patroness of the Spanish artillery. This practice, known as syncretism, long enabled Africans to preserve their religion while appearing to Spanish Catholic priests to be converts.
Father Julian Gonzalez-Montenegro, a Cuban-born Catholic priest who did a routine census for the diocese in the Silver Lake district, noticed Santeria altars and shrines in many of the homes he visited. “Being a Cuban, I can spot it a mile away,” he says. “If you ask them, they’d probably say they’re Catholic. Being a priest, I know better.”
“I think (Santeria) is going to be a very significant institution in this city by the end of the century,” says Donald Cosentino, a lecturer in African folklore and mythology at UCLA. “This is not a cult. This is the local practice of a worldwide religion that has maybe 75 to 100 million followers. The winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1986, Wole Soyinka of Nigeria, is a believer in the Yoruba gods. Most of his works are about the orishas. It may function like a cult in L.A., but how can you call it a cult if it is the majority religion in Brazil, in Haiti, in Cuba?”
THE FIRST TIME they told me about this religion, I said no way was I ever going to become involved,” Sammy admits. “I’m a college graduate, a scholar. This religion had the stigma of being for ignorant people.”
Ysamur Flores Pena, known to his friends as Sammy, is a santero , a Santeria priest of the orisha Oshun, the goddess of love. He was born and raised in Puerto Rico and moved to Los Angeles five years ago, accepting a job with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services in East Los Angeles. When the job ended a year ago, a victim of budget cutbacks, Flores became a full-time priest.
He is 34, although his graying temples make him appear slightly older. He says he has about 40 godchildren--those he has initiated into the religion and who look up to him as a father figure--in Los Angeles, and another 80 or so in Venezuela, Puerto Rico and Miami. Many of his local godchildren are English-speaking black Americans, and some are Vietnamese. He says his is not a large “house,” or “family,” by Santeria standards.
Flores was born into a prominent family and has a master’s degree in education from Catholic University in Puerto Rico. He speaks English gracefully, with an almost musical accent, and prides himself on his scholarship about the history and teachings of Santeria, ably comparing it with Eastern religions, or Jungian psychology.
When Flores was about 17, he hurt his back. Out of curiosity as much as anything else, he paid a visit to a santero. The man did a reading, which consists of throwing 16 cowrie shells on a tray and interpreting the numerical patterns of how many land face up or face down. The patterns are believed to reveal the orisha’s divine answers to specific human questions. “He told me all about myself, and he had never met me before,” says Flores. “I decided there might be more to this than meets the eye.”
On the advice of the santero , Flores began to make regular offerings of fruits, other foods and occasionally live animals to the orishas , while continuing to receive orthodox medical treatments, including two operations. His back improved. “I became a fencing champion,” he says. “The doctors still don’t know how I did it.”
Many Santeria believers tell similar stories. They had a problem with their health, or love life, or job, or family. A friend or family member referred them to a santero for a reading. They went, followed his or her advice by praying and making offerings to the orishas and ancestors, and decided that it worked to solve their problems. Some joined the santero’s “family” by becoming initiated into the religion. Eventually, a few were “called” to become priests.
Like most priests, Flores earns a living by performing consecrations and ceremonies, and he accepts gifts from his godchildren, though he declines to reveal specific amounts. He admits that he is two months behind on his car payments as we speak, but his godchildren are able to raise enough money to periodically send him to Miami, Venezuela and Puerto Rico. He has recently opened his own botanica , Turey Spiritual Shop.
“We don’t advertise,” says Flores, “and we don’t look for converts. People come to us. We have prostitutes in this religion, homosexuals, lesbians. We accept them. This is a positive, problem-solving religion.
“When we cleanse a person of any kind of negative stuff (by pouring blood over them in a blood sacrifice), we are trying to bring that person into harmony with his or her guardian angel. Everyone has a guardian angel watching over them, even if they don’t know it. We believe the planet itself is an orisha. That’s the beauty of this religion. Once you discover it and practice it the right way, there is a sense of harmony with the universe that you get by the sheer act of talking about it, working with the orishas , doing ceremonies. You feel that energy flowing through you.”
SANTERIA HAS no hierarchal structure comparable to Catholicism. There’s no Pope, no bishops, no Vatican doctrine. In Nigeria, where the traditional religion is practiced alongside Christianity and Islam, there are public temples for worshiping the various orishas , without the pretense of syncretism. In the New World, priests, the santeros , usually operate out of their own homes, or in the back rooms of the botanicas. Last June, a santero attempted to launch an above-ground church in the Miami suburb of Hialeah. The church met with opposition not only from neighborhood residents and local politicians who objected to the animal sacrifices, but also from other santeros concerned about the public display of traditionally secret ceremonies. Santeros (or santeras ; women can become priests equal to men) serve as a combination of minister, theologian, psychiatrist and witch doctor. They must be familiar with the traditional Yoruba prayers, chants and ceremonies handed down from the days of slavery. They may also be skilled herbalists and musicians.
Not unlike Western physicians, they must possess a certain opportunistic entrepreneurial spirit, for the role of santero is a full-time job. Each ceremony and ritual has its price, although the rates can vary widely depending on the wealth of the client. The initiation of a santero can cost up to $10,000. It’s not unheard of for an affluent Cuban businessman to spend thousands of dollars to obtain the protection of the saints on a big business deal. Nor is it unusual for a santero to perform expensive ceremonies free, especially on behalf of those he has initiated into the religion. A santero might have hundreds or even thousands of such godchildren supporting him with gifts and donations in exchange for his services. Extortion--the threat of turning the gods against believers unless they pay the santero more money--would seem to be an obvious possibility. However, reported cases are rare.
According to Teresita Pedraza, a Cuban-born sociologist who teaches at Miami-Dade Community College, most santeros have two distinct followings; those who view them as religious leaders and those who come to them for magic and divination only in times of crisis.
“Be objective,” says Pedraza. “If Santeria wasn’t providing some kind of service to these people, it would have disappeared long ago. The key element is that a santero listens to you. Your problem becomes his problem. You immediately acquire an extended family, a network of support. In the house of santeros , there is always food, and he may be able to help you find a job, or get you off drugs. It becomes a personal challenge for the santero to help you.”
Pedraza sees Santeria as the response of displaced and dispossessed people to extreme social circumstances. “You have to place yourself into the daily life of those practicing the religion,” she says. “Perceive a world that has been largely hostile to them. Even Cubans who have been financially successful have suffered through a severe social dislocation. Although Cuba has never been more than nominally Catholic, many Cubans turned to the church after the revolution, praying for a miracle. The miracle never happened. So they turned to other, perhaps more powerful, solutions.” Although she is not a devotee herself, Pedraza believes the religion has a positive effect on the lives of most of its followers. For three years, she has lectured the Miami police to help them understand the phenomenon of Santeria. “I tell them the more you know, the less you will fear it. There has been a high degree of exploitation by the media, and a great deal of ethnic prejudice.”
Much of that prejudice concerns the religion’s use of rituals that involve animal sacrifices. The rituals are not performed randomly but for specific religious purposes, and in most cases, the sacrificed animals--usually chickens, which can be purchased legally and inexpensively--are promptly eaten. “It’s very similar to a Catholic Mass,” Cosentino says. “There is a transfer of body and blood, which you offer up to the Father, and then consume it yourself. Catholicism holds that the Crucifixion was the ultimate sacrifice, and no other could measure up. Santeria is more like the Old Testament, in that they continue to make blood sacrifices.” The ceremonies are effective, he adds. “It isn’t a bag of tricks--it’s real. The rituals really work. They wouldn’t be practiced if they didn’t.”
One local initiate describes a backyard ritual in which some hens were sacrificed to feed the Eggun , or ancestor spirits. “We dug a hole and put some molasses and peas and other stuff in it. Then we took one of the hens. At first the hen was real nervous. Then we started saying prayers over it and it was weird--the hen got really calm. The priest held the hen in one hand and twisted the neck off with the other. The head popped off, just like that. Then he held the body upside down and poured the blood in the hole. Blood sacrifice is thought to be the most potent, because it is the essential life fluid.
“Human blood is never required.”
B EMBES ARE where everyone gets together to see and be seen,” says Flores. “It’s like a party for the priests. The orishas love to come down and party.”
We are sitting in bright weekend sunlight on the patio of a house off Alvarado, in Echo Park. From inside, one can hear the insistent beat of the bata drummers. In a California culture clash, the ancient drums compete for dominance on the patio with heavy-metal guitar emanating from the house two doors up, where teen-agers are drinking beer and throwing the cans out in the yard. “The advantage of L.A. is that the religion is growing here,” Flores continues, as two laughing men walk past carrying the cooked head of a sacrificed pig. “We have tried to learn from the mistakes in other cities. We want to obey the law and avoid scandals. The community is still small enough that many of the priests know each other. If somebody is a phony, word gets around quick.”
The front room of the house has been emptied of furniture. In a side room, four or five new priests wait with an elaborate altar and offerings of fruit and various other foods. There is no alcohol anywhere, and no sign of drug use--just cigars, whose smoke is thought to attract orishas and ancestor spirits. Nearly everyone present is Cuban. Many are wearing white in combination with the special colors of their orisha. Their beaded necklaces, known as elekes , indicate which orisha they’ve been consecrated under--red and white for Chango, the patron of fire, thunder and lightning; yellow for Oshun, patron of love and financial success, and so on.
The drummers have begun saluting 16 of the orishas in the expansive Yoruba pantheon actively worshiped in Santeria. Each orisha has a rhythm and chant preserved from antiquity. The bata drums are held on the laps of the players, who play both ends with their hands and fingertips. The sound is earthier than that of the fiberglass conga drums usually used in Latin-jazz and rock groups, and the polyrhythms are more purely African.
In the front room, people are dancing and clapping to the drums. There are polite, middle-aged women in expensive dresses and high heels; professional-looking, gray-haired men you might pass on the golf course and not glance at twice; all swaying and moving together in distinctly African formations. A tall, seemingly tireless black man leads the chants. He sings a line, and the others answer in unison. All the singing is in Yoruba, which functions as a sacred language in Santeria much as Latin does in the Catholic Church.
It’s time to introduce the new priests and priestesses to the orisha of the bata , Ania. The first is a slight, bespectacled man wearing a white skullcap and holding two coconuts on a plate. He is flanked by two other priests, one male, one female. Walking very slowly, but in rhythm, they bring him before the middle drum and lay him flat on the ground, where he leaves the coconuts. Then they help him up and dance a slow retreat. Again and again, they advance and retreat before the bata. The intensity of the drumming gradually increases, until the three are bent over at the waist, eyes closed, still stepping forward and backward in unison yet individually enveloped in the music.
Suddenly, the drummers double the tempo into a furious polyrhythm. The other two grab the new priest and begin running him in a circle. His neck jerks back and his legs go limp, as if he’s been struck by lightning. He’s been possessed. His whole body is shaking wildly. The others hold him up and guide him into the kitchen in the back of the house, where, for better or worse, in a trance he assumes the personality of his orisha for a time.
“It’s always Pentecost in this religion,” Cosentino says. “Possession opens the pathway to another plane, and serves as a source of prophecy. Something is always being revealed about the nature of the gods not known before.” The orishas are like people. They don’t like to be ignored.”
I HAVE BEEN possessed by Oshun,” says Monife Balewa, “and I’ve prayed that it not happen again. It’s usually the drum that brings it on. The last time, I don’t remember what happened, but I’ve been told I jumped out a second-story window. I lost a $250 watch, and made a statement that a person would die because of disrespect. Oshun can be very stern and correct. A week later, that person died.
“You usually know when it’s coming on. I think you can back away from it.”
Like Flores, Balewa is an initiate of Oshun. Unlike Flores, she was born in the United States. A black woman in her 40s who dresses in African fabrics, she grew up Catholic in the Bronx and was initiated into the religion there by Puerto Ricans 11 years ago. She claims to be the highest-ranking black priestess on the West Coast, though in the absence of a central authority, such claims are open to dispute.
Balewa works out of the Yoruba Temple, located in a decrepit-looking building near the corner of Vermont Avenue and 42nd Street. The Yoruba Temple was founded about three years ago by Sekou Ali and Imodoye Shabazz, former Black Muslims who discovered in the religion a missing link to understanding their African heritage. The temple offers evening classes in dancing and drumming, as well as weekend worship services, daily family counseling and Balewa’s “spiritual readings done the African way,” with the cowrie shells. There is no charge for any of the services.
“Our purpose is to have a focal point in the community, to teach the culture, as well as the ceremonies,” says Ali, a stocky man with a shaved head who works at an oil refinery during the week. “Our purpose is not to have blood splattered all over the walls. You can see that people are not slaughtering children, or slaughtering animals, in here. We put more emphasis on character-building, on doing positive things in this world. In Nigeria, this is not just a religion, it’s a way of life.” LOCAL BELIEVERS have been bothered by Miami police reports linking Santeria to cocaine trafficking among the Marielitos, some of whom had criminal backgrounds in Cuba before coming to the U.S. in the 1980 Mariel boat lift. According to sources in the religion, a drug dealer might go to a santero for advice on the safest time to make a shipment and to ask for the orishas’ protection .
Detective Supervisor Patrick Metoyer, coordinator of the Criminal Conspiracy Section of the LAPD, is the department’s recognized expert on the occult, training members of the force to notice and respect such things as the sacred items of non-Western religions. He says the police come across “a lot of altars to the saints,” which they recognize as Santeria shrines, in East L.A. drug houses. He is careful to emphasize that the LAPD does not monitor santeros , any more than it does practitioners of other religions. In fact, says Metoyer--who identifies himself as a devout Catholic--he knows “persons who are police officers in Miami, Chicago, New York and Los Angeles who practice some form of Santeria.”
“Does this make them bad cops?” he asks. “No. The way they explain it is, if there is something they can do to give us an edge, why not?” While she asserts that most santeros are law-abiding, middle-class citizens, sociologist Pedraza concedes that “a small number of santeros cater to the drug business. Whether they were already in it when they started, or they found it on their doorsteps, I don’t know. But these are the ones that make the news.”
“It hurts me,” says Flores of the connection between Santeria and cocaine, “because I am so in love with this religion. The last time I was in Miami, I met a woman who saw my bracelet and asked me what it meant. I told her I was a santero, a priest. She said, ‘Oh yeah, you’re the religion that protects cocaine smugglers.’ Man, I have never felt so low in my life. I have never used drugs. I almost never even drink. You’re supposed to keep the top of your head clear for the orishas.
“There is something going on in the religion, but it can only go on so long before it catches up to them. It doesn’t matter how many orishas you have around you, you can’t go above God’s command. In other religions, you are forgiven. In this religion, you are punished. I’m afraid of what would happen if I messed up. A mistake can kill you.”
“Let me show you something,” Flores says softly. He opens a leather pouch and pulls out a polished, hollowed goat’s horn with a beaded cowrie shell lodged in it. “As long as I have this, I’m protected. This place could burn down and you and I would walk out of here without a scratch.
“But if I start messing up, that protection gradually will be withdrawn. If someone tries to mess with me, I don’t have to cast spells and stuff like that. I just have to stand in front of my orishas and tell them. If I’m innocent, somebody’s gonna get it. But if I’m guilty, I’m gonna get it.”
With that, he sprinkles a few drops of his drink on the floor for the ancestors.
FOOTBALL/SOCCER

Jamal Khashoggi's fiancée urges Newcastle fans to oppose takeover

Hatice Cengiz, fiancée of murdered journalist, writes open letter

‘Slam shut the door on this offensive deal’



Louise Taylor THE GUARDIAN Wed 13 May 2020
Hatice Cengiz said she understood Newcastle fans’ desire for new owners but said the Saudi-backed takeover was not in the club’s best interests. 
Photograph: Katie Jones/Variety/Shutterstock


Hatice Cengiz, the fiancée of the murdered journalist Jamal Khashoggi, has implored Newcastle United supporters to mobilise against the prospective Saudi Arabia-funded takeover of the club.

Mike Ashley, Newcastle’s owner, has agreed a £300m deal with a consortium comprising the financier Amanda Staveley, the property company Reuben Brothers and Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund. The plan is for PIF to assume an 80% stake and, with the deal in its fifth week of scrutiny by the Premier League, completion could be close.

Although the vexed issue of the kingdom’s human rights record is beyond the parameters of the Premier League’s owners’ and directors’ test, the governing body is examining allegations of broadcast piracy against Saudi Arabia. Newcastle’s prospective Saudi majority owners have denied any link to the BeoutQ piracy.

Khashoggi fiancee: stop Saudi takeover of Newcastle United or be complicit
https://www.theguardian.com/football/2020/apr/28/khashoggi-fiancee-stop-saudi-takeover-of-newcastle-or-be-complicit
Read more

Cengiz, whose fiancé was killed inside Saudi Arabia’s embassy in Istanbul in 2018, believes that remit should be extended to the country’s human rights abuses, already highlighted by Amnesty International. Newcastle fans have no direct power to veto the buyout but she hopes they will demand the Premier League block a deal many regard as a blatant attempt to “sportswash” Saudi’s international image.

“I write to you at a crucial time in the history of your famous club,” wrote Cengiz in an open letter to Newcastle fans. “Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the absolute ruler of Saudi Arabia, is aiming to take over your club by offering a huge sum of money.

“I know that many of you are tempted by his offer to get out of the dire situation that has crippled your club for so many years. But the Crown Prince is accused of ordering Jamal’s murder. My plea to you is to think whether accepting [the] offer is really the right way out of the despair for your club.

“You as the loyal fans do have a big say in this. I implore you all to unite to protect your beloved club and city. They are making this move not with your best interests in mind, but solely to serve themselves. Their hearts will not genuinely be in the club that means everything to you. Now is the moment to stand tall together for the game, your club, your city and your country in order to slam shut the door on this offensive deal.”
Hatice Cengiz / خديجة(@mercan_resifi)

An open letter to the Fans of Newcastle United Football Club: I implore you all to unite to protect your beloved club and city from Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman and those around him. Stop this takeover before it’s too late. #NUFC #nufctakover pic.twitter.com/kTk2bf3oEvMay 13, 2020


Saudi Arabia has described Khashoggi’s murder as a rogue operation of which the heir to the throne knew nothing. An investigation by Agnès Callamard, the UN special rapporteur on extrajudicial killings, found that Saudi Arabia was responsible under human rights law for the murder and that it was “inconceivable” the operation that resulted in his death could not have been implemented without Bin Salman being aware a criminal mission was being launched against the journalist.

Despite the late emergence of new documents related to alleged broadcast piracy, sources close to the takeover remain optimistic an agreement broadly welcomed by Newcastle fans will be approved in the near future. They maintain “no red flags” have been raised and that the delay has been partly prompted by the Premier League’s necessary preoccupation with Project Restart.

Meanwhile Ashley, who has received a £17m non-refundable deposit, is understood to be eager to see the balance paid in order to help address coronavirus-induced cashflow problems in his high street retail empire.

The Newcastle midfielder Jonjo Shelvey has revealed Steve Bruce’s players remain in the dark about the takeover. “We’re the same as the fans,” said Shelvey. “We don’t know what’s going on.” Although Shelvey said Ashley had “always been good to me”, the former England international would welcome a buyout. “I think it would be good for the fans, the club and the city.”

It is understood Newcastle have removed some employees from the government’s furlough scheme as active staffing levels rise ahead of the squad’s return to training next week.
THE POLITICAL ECONOMY OF SPORTS

Can millionaire college coaches defend their salaries during Covid-19?

As the pandemic hits the revenue of universities across America, some are wondering whether seven-figure coaching salaries can be justified


Mary Pilon THE GUARDIAN Wed 13 May 2020
 
Dabo Swinney earns nearly $10m a year in his role as Clemson head coach.
 Photograph: Jeff Blake/USA Today Sports


After Iowa State saw its Big-12 and NCAA basketball tournaments cancelled due to the coronavirus pandemic, the school was among those immediately facing a financial suckerpunch – a $5m shortfall in its budget.

Yet the crisis was solved swiftly and in a way that would have been unthinkable just a few months ago. Jamie Pollard, the school’s athletic director, and the school’s football coach, Matt Campbell, immediately agreed to a reduction of their salaries, while there were other pay cuts across the department, creating a stopgap for the entire shortfall. For Campbell, a cut to his reported $3.5m salary would hardly mean a lean paycheck for a man who, even with the drop, is among the highest-paid employees in the state.

For decades, college sports have been in a Gilded Age. Salaries for men’s basketball and football coaches and support staff have soared with dozens of college coaches in America making millions annually, be they at private or public universities. College coaches are the highest-paid state employees in 39 of 50 states, according to analysis from ESPN, and some of them aren’t even currently coaching at those schools anymore. Many benefit from private jets, housing stipends and generous severance packages. Wake Forest reportedly paid $15m last month just to get rid of its men’s basketball coach, Danny Manning.

College athletes, meanwhile, are not paid a salary, per rules from the NCAA, the organization that governs college sports in the United States.

As Covid-19 spreads, ravaging American health, the economy, and hopes for a fall football season, critical minds are turning to millionaire college coaches and handsomely-paid athletic department staff. It marks a reversal of decades of growth in long-sacred paydays in college sports. Moreover, the income inequalities of college sports are laid bare.

These coaching pay cuts “are completely appropriate,” Andrew Zimbalist, an economist at Smith College, says. “In fact, I think 90% pay cuts would also be appropriate.”

At the University of Louisville, which faced a $15m shortfall, coaches and senior athletic department staff took a 10% pay cut, according to a spokesman, including a reduction of football coach Scott Satterfield’s $3.25m salary. Boise State University implemented furloughs across its university, including its athletic department, with those earning over $150,000 taking a larger reduction. At the University of Wyoming, athletic director Tom Burman volunteered to take a 10% salary reduction through 31 December and said he planned to donate more to the Cowboy Joe Club, a fund for athletic scholarships.


“Not only are we impacted by the recession tied to Covid-19, but our state is extremely reliant on energy. And energy – coal, gas and oil – all are experiencing historic challenges,” Burman said in a statement. “I feel as a leader, who is compensated above the average person in the state, I need to lead by example. We will get through this but only if we work together and care about our neighbors.”

Even the NCAA’s president Mark Emmert, a longtime focal point for criticism in the lopsided economics of college sports, announced that he would take a 20% pay cut of his $2.1m salary.

Notable are the coaches who have not taken a pay cut, or at least announced one publicly. None of the three highest-paid coaches – Clemson’s Dabo Swinney ($9.3m a year), the University of Alabama’s Nick Saban ($8.85m) and Jim Harbaugh at the University of Michigan ($7.5m) – have announced pay cuts.

A spokesman for Clemson confirmed that Swinney has not taken a pay cut. A spokesperson from Alabama did not return requests for comment. A spokesman for the University of Michigan confirmed that although the school’s athletic director Warde Manuel is taking a 5% pay cut, “no athletic department staff member has been asked to consider reductions in their salary.”

The end of generations of exploitation by the NCAA is finally in sight
Etan Thomas
https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2019/nov/05/the-end-of-generations-of-exploitation-by-the-ncaa-is-finally-in-sight

In better times, when revenue from ticket sales, massive TV contracts and checks from boosters rolled in, schools often defended the large salaries of coaches by arguing that they brought in winning records, a sense of pride, and money to schools.

Critics have argued that those programs were also costly to run and that college coach pay exists in an “artificial marketplace,” Zimbalist says. It’s artificial in that athletes aren’t paid, athletic departments don’t have stockholders, and they may receive taxpayer subsidies for everything from stadium construction to their own salaries, he adds. “What they have are stakeholders and these are boosters and alums and students and administrators who want to see the team win. A normal business operates to generate a profit and therefore they’re acutely cost conscious. This business operates with very little regard to cost because they’re all about winning.”


Zimbalist also serves on the board of directors of the Drake Group, an influential group of academics who have researched the role of college athletics. The group is calling for salary freezes for coaches, as well as a suspension of bonuses. Pointing to Iowa State’s decisions as an example, the group said in a statement, “this is the right thing to do.”

Internally, there is a consensus that pay cuts are in the crosshairs, even if many prominent coaches or schools have yet to step forward. An April survey of athletic directors nationwide conducted by LEAD1, an organization of athletic department executives, found that 67% of athletic directors “agree or strongly agree” with limiting current compensation. (An anonymous quote from one of the survey respondents said, “everyone loves socialism on college campuses but in athletic departments it is straight capitalism.”) More than half of those surveyed said that their departments did not “have a financial reserve that could aid in this type of crisis.”

The economics of college sports are often more complicated than in professional leagues. For example, revenue from big ticket programs such as football or basketball may help fund smaller college sports. That means if income from football or basketball falls, depending on the school, it may jeopardize sports such as rowing, wrestling or field hockey. What’s more, many college sports rely on student fees, which could crater this coming academic year amid the pandemic. While TV deals funnel millions into college athletic coffers, so, too, do ticket sales and in a early-April poll from Seton Hall, nearly three out of four fans said they wouldn’t return to live sports events without a vaccine.

Just as many institutions, once slow to change, have now had to rapidly revamp due to Covid-19, critics argue that the pandemic may expedite a reckoning that had been long underway. Before the coronavirus hit, Democratic congresswoman Donna Shalala introduced federal legislation that would limit high college coach salaries. And, after years of fighting in and out of courtrooms, the NCAA may finally be budging on whether athletes can profit off of the use of their likenesses.


The pandemic has also brought to light the lack of union representation college players have, compared with their counterparts in the MLB, NFL, NHL, WNBA and NBA. Not only can college athletes not collectively negotiate with schools for terms to return to stadiums, but schools may face massive liabilities in putting students on the field prematurely, officials said. The general thinking is that unless students are back on campuses, it will be hard to have them back on the playing field.

The pay cut is a luxury the players don’t have because they don’t make a salary anyway. “Perhaps this is an opportunity for some necessary cultural change for how we think about student athletes,” Jasmine Harris, a sociology professor at Ursinus College who has studied student athletes, says.

“Especially in men’s basketball and football, the discussion [about money] is always bound in family,” Harris adds. “‘We all belong to the same banner and so we are taking care of each other.’ That kind of rhetoric has been used for the last 20 years or so as one of the many reasons people give for not paying the student athletes, that it takes away from that idea that we’re here as comrades and as peers and as potential future alumni. ‘We’re rallying together around that.’ Well, where’s the rallying together when the university has lost $35m in eight weeks? Especially if you’re one of those coaches in that greater-than-$5m salary range who has been making that amount of money for a significant amount of time?”

The current questioning of coaches’ financial value may also bring a reckoning for other athletic expenditures, Fritz G Polite, assistant vice president of opportunity development at the Harry F Byrd, Jr School of Business at Shenandoah University, says. The arms race of gleaming stadiums and athletic facilities, as well as adjacent coaching staffs may be cut, as well.

And in a best case scenario, it may put more of the “college” back into college sports, Polite says.


“I think that people get caught up in the Kool Aid,” Polite says. “The true essence of higher education really should be about the academic enterprise. The athletic enterprise has co-opted the academic side.”

Polite cites the coming together of the NBA and the NFL to raise funds for Covid-19 causes, even as their seasons seem to be on pause, as a model for college coaches going forward.

“I’d like to see the athletic directors and coaches come together to create a unified movement to support the millions of people who are currently unemployed,” Polite says. “And support this country that’s in a dire time of need right now ... I’d like to see these coaches say, ‘We get it, and we’d like to make a donation and we’re going to raise $50m and give it to the food banks of America.’ That’s what I would like to see, some social responsibility from these multi-million dollar coaches and athletic directors.”
Brazil legends rebuke Jair Bolsonaro for 'irresponsible' Covid-19 policy


Raí and Mauro Silva won the World Cup together in 1994. Now they are standing together to oppose the country’s president
By Tom Sanderson for Yellow & Green Football


Tom Sanderson
THE GUARDIAN
Wed 13 May 2020

 
São Paulo general manager Raí says Brazil president Jair Bolsonaro should resign. Composite: Getty Images


The coronavirus outbreak has yet not reached its peak in Brazil, but firebrand president Jair Bolsonaro – who caused outrage last month when he responded to news of increasing death tolls by saying “So what?” – is already attempting to rush the country’s footballers back to the field. “There are a lot of people in football who are favourable to a return because unemployment is knocking on clubs’ doors,” said Bolsonaro. “Footballers, if infected with the virus, have an infinitely small chance of dying. That’s because of their physical state, because they are athletes.”

Bolsonaro has been continually blasé about coronavirus, calling it a “little cold” exaggerated by media “hysteria”. During a failed attempt to get Brazilians to resume everyday life in late April, he told the nation that only old people are at risk. Bolsonaro is 65 years old but does not include himself in that group as he says he has the “history of an athlete”.

This bold claim opened him up to ridicule and prompted the resurfacing of a video taken last year in which Bolsonaro, a former military man who feeds off a supposed macho image, struggles comically through a set of press-ups. The video is particularly galling for Bolsonaro as it shows João Doria, the São Paulo state governor, performing the press-ups alongside him with ease. Doria was a Bolsonara ally during the campaign trail in 2018, but he is now a sworn enemy given his stricter views on lockdown restrictions.

air Bolsonaro says footballers in Brazil have ‘a small chance of dying’ from Covid-19

Bolsonaro is powerless to override the authority of individual states when it comes to isolation and, by sticking his nose in footballing matters, he has irked the director of football at one of Brazil’s biggest clubs. Raí, the legendary World Cup-winning midfielder who played for PSG in the 1990s and now runs São Paulo FC, criticised Bolsonaro for being “irresponsible” and flouting WHO guidelines. In a video interview with Globoesporte, Raí called for Bolsonaro’s resignation and blamed him for instigating “political crises” in the middle of a pandemic.

Bolsonaro has his supporters within the game. Caio Ribeiro, a former São Paulo and Brazil player who now works as a commentator, defended the president, saying he “didn’t like Raí’s speech” because he spoke “very little about sports and talked a lot about politics”. “He has to talk about sports,” said Ribeiro. “When he talks about resignation, public hospitals and all that, it seems to me that he has political connotations in relation to his preferences.”

Ribeiro’s suggestion that footballers and should stick to their primary field of expertise and not be outspoken on political matters sparked a debate, with Walter Casagrande – a highly respected pundit who played alongside Sócrates, Raí’s elder brother – defending the São Paulo director. “I think the exact same as Raí,” said Casagrande in an impassioned Instagram post. “I’m against the return of football at this moment. Every day the death toll rises in the country. It’s absurd to think about this.


“In a democracy, everyone can and should express their opinions, about every subject, independent of their profession. Nobody can wish to censor the speech of others and determine which subject they can talk about. Ultimately, Raí represented his brother Sócrates with pride and I have no doubt that he would say the same thing. People in football are pressed a lot for their lack of participation and opinion. Raí is one of the few who has taken a position. Congratulations, Raí!”


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Casagrande added that Raí would be a “a great companion in Democracia Corinthiana” – the movement led by his brother Sócrates in the mid-1980s that challenged the military dictatorship to which Bolsonaro and his supporters long to return.

Speaking exclusively to Yellow and Green Football, Raí responded to Ribeiro by saying: “Before anything in life, we are citizens. I am radically in favour of the free manifestation of ideas. Although I am not a controversial person, I am attentive to politics and social reality. When I perceive great injustices, ideological absurdities, or actions that can massacre the unfortunate [in society], indignation takes over and I manifest myself more strongly.”

Raí says he “doesn’t care” about the abuse he has received from Bolsonaro’s supporters and that he has “ignored them and the smell of their bigotry”. Regarding how his brother would feel about Bolsonaro’s behaviour and intentions, he agrees with Casagrande, saying Sócrates would “surely also be outraged and revolt – imagine Dr Sócrates! The way he would react!” Raí insists he will only consider allowing his club’s players to return to the pitch once the “health and sanitary authorities – the governor, mayor and secretary of health – have authorised it, preferably when the curve of deaths and number of infected citizens has been reversed”.

The Brazil team that won the World Cup in 1994, including Rai and Mauro Silva. Photograph: Colorsport/Rex/Shutterstock


Mauro Silva, who won the World Cup alongside Raí in 1994 and is now vice-president of the São Paulo state football federation, is backing his old teammate. Silva says the federation has decided “unanimously” that football should only return once the state authorities allow it. “The supreme federal court decided that states and municipalities have the autonomy to define isolation measures. So this is how we at the federation are working,” he said. He also offered his own personal support for Raí, saying: “Everyone has the right to speak out on whatever they want.”

Bruno Guimarães was ready to quit football. Now he is a Brazil player

Yet the government ploughs on with its hard-headed approach. The ministry of health – which is now being fronted by Nelson Teich after Luiz Henrique Mandetta was fired for opposing Bolsonaro’s lax views on coronavirus – sent a report to Brazil’s football federation in which they effectively concluded that football was too important to stay closed down. The ministry said they were “favourable” to a return as because they recognised that “football is a relevant sporting activity in the Brazilian context and that its resumption may contribute to measures to reduce social displacement through the transmission of games.”

Yet many in the game have reasons to disagree. Thirty-eight employees, including three players, have tested positive for coronavirus at the Série A champions Flamengo. Just like Brazil’s battle with the disease, the row between its leaders and those in the game has not yet reached its peak.