In the vast swathes of the world, particularly in Europe, immigrants are living long-distance nationalism through football, evident from the ongoing FIFA World Cup, in which as many as 136 players, according to the Quartz website, appeared for their country of origin rather than that of their birth. This was made possible because FIFA amended its rules to allow footballers to switch their “sporting nationality”.

Immigrants acquire the citizenship of a country either because they accompanied their parents who took its citizenship, or were born to them there. But they can now represent their country of origin in FIFA tournaments if they also hold its nationality, did not play for the country of which they are citizens in the FIFA World Cup, or turned out for its national team, such as U-17, not more than three times before turning 21.

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Not all switches of sporting nationalities arouse curiosity. For instance, the European Union makes it easy for citizens of one of its constituents to work in another. It would be a natural progression for a child of a French couple working in Germany to represent the German team. Again, it was not surprising to find nine British-born players doing World Cup duty for Wales, which is a unit of the United Kingdom.

But ideas of nationalism mutate when an African immigrant in Europe opts to play for the country of his parents rather than for the one of which he is a citizen. This mutation has acquired a scale: 42 per cent of Africa’s 130 players in Qatar were born outside that continent; 14 out of the 26 Moroccan players were not born there; 38 per cent of the Tunisian team were born in France. Iñaki Williams represents Ghana, his younger brother Nico Spain.

Also read: US soccer journalist Grant Wahl dies while covering World Cup in Qatar

It is not always the case that African-origin players in Europe switch their sporting nationalities because they cannot find a place in the team of the country of which they are citizens. Ruud Gullit, a football great, told the New York Times that he tried, in 2017, to persuade Sofyan Amrabat to opt for the Netherlands than for Morocco. Gullit said, “The family pushes you [a Moroccan] to play for Morocco…” Morocco’s Hakim Ziyech was keen on appearing for the Netherlands as it often qualified for big tournaments. In 2016, after the Dutch failed to reach the European Championship, Ziyech had a change of heart. Mimoun Mahi, not in the current Moroccan squad, played for the Netherlands at the junior level, but switched his sporting nationality to Morocco to fulfil his father’s dream. “I think with the heart, and the heart was for Morocco,” he told the NYT.

Migrants’ hearts have a dual beat because the “mediated imagery of home is always with them,” wrote Anderson. Cheap air tickets mean migrants often journey to their home country, their attachment further deepened by frequent calls, exchange of photos and videos via platforms such as WhatsApp, and by following political developments back home through the internet. The heart was the reason Swiss striker Breel Embolo did not celebrate the goal he scored against Cameroon, where he was born and where his father still lives.

Academicians like Maurice Crul, an Amsterdam-based professor, feel Muslim immigrants switching their sporting nationalities is typical of the post-9/11 generation, which became aware their religion was not wanted in Europe. For instance, the Netherlands rightwing leader Geert Wilders has often called Moroccans scum. France’s 1998 World Cup triumph, achieved by a multicultural team, acquired a bitter flavour with Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen saying some players were foreigners who did not know how to sing the national anthem.

When the French crashed out of the 2010 World Cup, philosopher Alain Finkielkraut said, “We must take note of the ethnic and religious divisions that undermine this team.” Weighing in then was also Marine Le Pen, who accused players of having “another nationality in their hearts.” She polled 41.5 per cent of votes in the 2022 presidential run-off. In 2011, French coach Laurent Blanc controversially said he wanted to limit the number of players with dual citizenship in football academies. Karim Benzema, who missed the current World Cup because of injury, was pointing to the hypocrisy of France when he said, “When I score, I am French. When I don’t, I am Arab.”

Morocco’s march into the semifinals is a riposte to Europe’s political culture as well as a flowering of long-distance nationalism, benign and beautiful, in contrast to that of Anderson’s Sikh.

The writer is a senior journalist

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