Brillantes Statement gegen den schwarz-rot-geilen Fähnchenwahnsinn und die hupenden Eventkirmesakrobaten. “Entspannter Patriotismus” my ass.

Im Vorlauf des World Cups 2010 in Südafrika schreibt die in London lebende Soziologin Dr. Natascha Müller-Hirth für Munitionen über Johannesburg, Hoffnungen und Versprechungen, die WM des Protests, den südafrikanischen Staatspräsidenten Jacob Zuma und weitere Ein- und Ausblicke im Land des WM-Gastgebers. Natascha Müller-Hirth hat in Südafrika gelebt und gearbeitet und vor allem Johannesburg hat einen speziellen Platz in ihrem Herzen eingenommen. Nicht wegen der Schönheit der Stadt (denn sie ist es nicht), sondern ihrer atemberaubenden Schnellebigkeit. In ihrer akademischen Arbeit beschäftigt sie sich mit südafrikanischer Politik nach dem demokratischen Übergang. Normalerweise meidet sie Fußball, doch bei dieser WM unterstützt sie - natürlich - die “Bafana Bafana”. Und bringt uns in vier Artikeln ihr Südafrika näher.

Many Europeans will not know too much about South Africa’s 4th president, other perhaps than that he is a polygamist. Here in the UK, this biographical fact dominated the media coverage of Jacob Zuma’s state visit earlier this year – so much so that the ANC released a statement calling the British media appalling and disrespectful. So who is the charismatic ‘JZ’?

Binaries and a message of change
What I found particularly interesting about Zuma’s rise to power was his portrayal as the polar opposite to his predecessor, Thabo Mbeki. For example, Zuma would be identified as ‘the traditional polygamist’; Mbeki, the suited cosmopolitan diplomat, appeared as the ultimate modernist: rational and disconnected. This portrayal allowed a powerful message of change to be produced – most significantly, that there would be a shift to the left in the Government’s economic policy under Zuma’s leadership. This was important because of the extent and scope of inequality that had persisted more than a decade after the transition, and the popular discontent about the lack of service delivery. Indeed, Zuma’s eventual victory in the national election last year was achieved with the support of the ruling party’s African National Congress’ (ANC) left allies, the trade union organisation Cosatu and the South African Communist Party (SACP), as well as that of the ANC’s Youth League (the latter’s controversial president Julius Malema now being in open conflict with Zuma). But arguably just as significantly, Zuma’s charismatic persona also responded to the widespread sense of betrayal – of the liberation struggle, of the promises of freedom – felt by so many South Africans. A message of change and renewal was embraced and projected by his supporters despite assurances by Zuma to the business community prior to the election that there would be no substantial change in economic policy.

Mbeki was still in power when the World Cup bid was won and it was he who claimed that the opportunities afforded by the tournament in South Africa would ‘send ripples of confidence from the Cape to Cairo’ and that it would give momentum to the ‘African Renaissance’. This idea of an African Renaissance was central to Mbeki’s leadership of South Africa (from 1999 to last year, when he was ‘recalled’ by his party after a prolonged succession battle with Zuma) – as central as the image of the rainbow nation was to that of Nelson Mandela. In it was contained not just the need for sustainable economic growth and democracy on the African continent. It was also a call for the rediscovery of a pan-African identity at the end of the millennium and a challenge against the familiar image of Africa as starved and war-torn. But public perceptions of Mbeki were that of a technocratic and distant leader, who seemed only to become more out of touch with the lives of ordinary South Africans as his presidency continued.

By contrast, Zuma came across as a real ‘man of the people’ who consciously draws on tradition and ethnic identity. JZ is known for singing and dancing in public in traditional Zulu attire (one rarely saw Mbeki publicly doing anything other than speaking, in tailored suits). The son of leading ANC and SACP member Govan Mbeki, he was groomed from his youth for leadership – he was part of ANC royalty. Zuma on the contrary was too poor to attend school, working as a cattle herder in Northern Zululand and later as a kitchen boy in Durban. His lack of formal schooling contrast to the intellectualism of Mbeki, who was well-known to be writing many of his own speeches which drew on an extraordinary amount of sources and literary references from African poetry to Shakespeare. Apart from establishing the difference between the two contenders, between elitist and populist, this careful management of biography was productive in terms of making Zuma’s recent and longstanding working relationships with Mbeki increasingly disappear from view.

Identity talk (and dance, and song)
And Zuma’s youth was not the only aspect of his biography that the campaign centred on. His career in the ANC began in its military arm, the MK, linking him up with what is without doubt the most important narrative of Post-Apartheid nation-building: the shared memories of the liberation struggle. Whilst Mbeki was apparently cherry-picked as future ANC leader, Zuma spent ten years in prison for his activities as a soldier in the MK – giving him impeccable freedom credentials. This is summed up succinctly by Zuma’s trademark song that simply reiterates umshini wami (‘bring me my machine gun’), and was frequently sung at rallies and on the occasions of Zuma’s court hearings.

Yes, the court hearings. Zuma was chosen to become Deputy President by Thabo Mbeki in 1999 and held that post until 2005 when Mbeki dismissed him over his involvement in the Department of Defence’s strategic Arms Acquisition programme (Arms Deal for short). Shortly after his dismissal, charges of rape were brought forward against him by a young woman whose father was a friend and struggle comrade of Zuma’s. This is not the place to go into either at length, but it is worth asking what subjectivities or national identities were offered by the discourses that Zuma’s campaign mobilised. ‘Bring me my machine gun’ crucially resonated not just with his past as a soldier and struggle hero, but also with the figure of a Zulu warrior. Interwoven in Zuma’s performance of ethnicity have been gender and sexuality, with the rape trial serving as a platform for supporters to perform a traditional and patriarchal Zulu identity.

Zuma’s conscious reference to his ethnic identity seems to reflect a broader change towards a Post-Apartheid resurgence of ethnic cultural identity and politics. Liberation politics largely disregarded ethnic identity, as it tended to be linked to Apartheid’s divide and rule policies. Zulu nationalism was primarily associated with the Inkatha Freedom Party and discredited homeland politics. In fact the dominant nation-building narrative of the immediate Post-Apartheid period was that of the rainbow nation, employed to evoke a shared Post-Apartheid identity. The xenophobic attacks that shook South Africa in May and June 2008 – tens of thousands of immigrants were forced to flee their homes – marked the definite end of this rainbow nation utopia.

During the rape trial, Zuma told the court that he knew the woman was showing sexual interest’ in him by the fact that she was dressed in a skirt but ‘had not crossed her legs’. He explained his behaviour through reference to his Zulu identity: ‘as we grew up in the Zulu culture, you do not just leave a woman in that situation’. These and similar much-cited statements at the trial served to establish a particular – macho and misogynist – version of Zulu culture and Zulu masculinity as proper and authentic.

Such an essentialised version of ethnic identity reflects stereotypical notions of black men’s (irresponsible) sexuality. From this perspective, Zuma then embodied a political process of re-traditionalisation. South African academic Steven Robins put it succinctly: ‘South Africans witnessed a televised ‘postmodern’ spectacle in which a tribal elder-cum-liberation struggle icon performed ‘Zulu traditional masculinity’ for consumption for both the court and the wider citizenry’. And again, Zuma’s Zulu identity appeared as polar opposite to Mbeki’s modernism – which goes some way to explaining his populist appeal across various constituencies and ideological camps in the run up to last year’s election.

The stakes are high
What is at stake in these performances, as in those of a particular version of Zulu ethnic identity, is of great importance: South Africa is characterised by very high levels of gender-based domestic violence with the past few years witnessing a further rise of violence against women in the public sphere. There are serious concerns about the mobilisations of national identity that have become associated with the ‘Zuma phenomenon’. On the level of metaphors, where his predecessors drew on imagery such as the rainbow nation or the African renaissance, Zuma has become associated with metaphors such as ‘100% Zulu Boy’ or ‘Bring me my machine gun’.

Crucially however, some of what may have appeared like support for Zuma on the basis of a misogynist and exclusionist identity politics has revealed itself as protests against the neoliberal direction of previous Post-Apartheid governments and expressions of a deeply felt betrayal. From that perspective, some of the support for Zuma has been strategic and has been/ will be withdrawn if and when promises of change are not kept.

Zuma has just celebrated his first year in office and tensions inside the ANC are becoming more pronounced; the global economic crisis is impacting on growth and employment in South Africa; revelations about several love children have weakened at least some of Zuma’s support base. It is sometimes said that mega sporting events do not actually deliver on the promises of economic growth and job creation, but serve a purpose in uplifting the mood of a population. It remains to be seen whether the World Cup can inject a new lease of life into this presidency.

Foto: Copyright World Economic Forum www.weforum.org / Eric Miller emiller@iafrica.com

Im Vorlauf des World Cups 2010 in Südafrika schreibt die in London lebende Soziologin Dr. Natascha Müller-Hirth für Munitionen über Johannesburg, Hoffnungen und Versprechungen, die WM des Protests, den südafrikanischen Staatspräsidenten Jacob Zuma und weitere Ein- und Ausblicke im Land des WM-Gastgebers. Natascha Müller-Hirth hat in Südafrika gelebt und gearbeitet und vor allem Johannesburg hat einen speziellen Platz in ihrem Herzen eingenommen. Nicht wegen der Schönheit der Stadt (denn sie ist es nicht), sondern ihrer atemberaubenden Schnellebigkeit. In ihrer akademischen Arbeit beschäftigt sie sich mit südafrikanischer Politik nach dem demokratischen Übergang. Normalerweise meidet sie Fußball, doch bei dieser WM unterstützt sie - natürlich - die “Bafana Bafana”. Und bringt uns in vier Artikeln ihr Südafrika näher.

Mega sporting events such as the World Cup or the Olympic Games are often associated with giving a boost to a country’s economy, offering employment opportunities and increased tourism and leaving a legacy of improved infrastructure and fantastic sporting venues. The claims made on behalf of the 2010 World Cup, hosted by South Africa, are no different.

But there are other hopes resting on this particular event that are less universal. These include how the event has been invested with promises for development for South Africa and the wider Southern African region; the symbolism that is attached to hosting the World Cup in Africa for the first time; even the supposed potential of the beautiful game to contribute to peace. When South Africa won the World Cup bid, then-President of the Republic Thabo Mbeki argued that the opportunities afforded by the tournament would have a huge impact not just on South Africa but on the African continent as a whole, sending ‘ripples of confidence from the Cape to Cairo’. The Cup would give momentum to the ‘African Renaissance’, showing the world that South Africa (and Africa by extension) was able to host an event of this scale, and to host it well, with a uniquely ‘African feel’.

As for countering the kind of afro-pessimism usually perpetuated by the rest of the world, the tournament may well deliver on its promises – stadiums will be finished, the games will be taking place. The hopes for economic growth were always questionable, but even if framing growth in terms of a short term stimulus of the economy, the situation does not look so rosy: there will be at least 100,000 less tourists than predicted, for example. But it has become quite apparent in the run up to 11 June that a distinctly South African character, or ‘African feel’, may not be how this World Cup will be remembered.

Evictions of hawkers, Displacement of communities
Hawkers and food vendors which are usually operating outside football matches and other sporting events in South Africa have largely been excluded from the FIFA-controlled fan zones outside the stadiums, due to the exorbitant cost of leasing a stall. Outside Soccer City, the stadium in Soweto that will host the final, informal traders were evicted from outside the venue just last month – after having in some cases traded there for over a decade.

Removals of traders are not the only evictions that have taken place in preparation for kick-off this month: mass evictions of communities have occurred in Cape Town, Durban and elsewhere for years, forcibly moving residents from settlements near stadia or prominent tourist areas to new locations that are remote – and out of sight. The new settlements are far from residents’ schools and amenities, living conditions are worse and unemployment and crime are on the rise. The latest evictions have taken place near Cape Town’s Athlone stadium which will function as a training venue. The municipal authorities maintain that the evictions are unconnected to the World Cup. Ironically, townships played a huge role in the Anti-Apartheid struggle. Today they very much represent what Mbeki would have called the ‘second economy’. Their visibility and continued existence is a constant reminder of South Africa’s huge inequalities, they are ‘the eyesore that prevents the South African cities from becoming “world class”’, as Nigel Gibson writes. Fittingly, the Sowetan newspaper reported this week that the City of Cape Town was accused of planning to erect a wall around a derelict building by Athlone stadium whose residents it failed to evict.

Stadiums and Basic Services
Several existing stadia were rejected by the FIFA as suitable venues although refurbishment could have saved South Africa several billions of Rand. The above-mentioned Athlone stadium in the Cape Flats, a historically poor neighbourhood that is associated with Apartheid resettlement policies, for instance was rejected in favour of building Green Point stadium at a cost of an additional R2.5 billion (the stadium itself cost R4.4 billion - 486 million Euro). Somewhat ironically, it is dubbed the African Renaissance Stadium. With a backdrop of Table Mountain and close to locations such as the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront, it is easy to see its attraction to visitors and FIFA officials. What is more, Ashwin Desai quotes one FIFA functionary as saying that football fans did not want to be faced with the poverty of the shantytowns on their television screens.

Examples of the Government spending vast sums on building new stadiums, where perfectly usable ones exist in every major city in the country, unfortunately abound. Other instances of ‘white elephant’ infrastructure spending, serving only a tiny elite minority, include the Gautrain railway project (linking Jo’burg and Pretoria but not serving any of the townships in Gauteng Province) and the new Durban airport. Meanwhile, millions of South Africans still have no access to affordable housing, clean water and sanitation. Financing has been taken from public funds destined for basic service delivery – 90,000 houses could have been built every year in the past 5 years from the funds for stadiums, according to the economist Stephen Gelb. There has been a continuous wave of strikes and protests (as well as of police violence against protesters) since last year and protests will in all likelihood intensify during the World Cup. The Government and municipal authorities have announced that there will be 10 km safety cordons around stadiums in order to prevent service delivery protests.

The World Cup of Protest
Police crackdown on community protests is nothing new in Post-Apartheid South Africa. Even outside the context of the World Cup preparations South Africa has more protest actions than anywhere else in the world. These actions primarily arise out of a need to confront the extreme poverty and material inequality and communities’ marginalisation in relation to service delivery. Given that South Africa is governed by an overwhelming one party majority with weak opposition parties, social and community movements not only represent marginalised communities but also operate as a watchdog to the ANC. The Mbeki administration had made considerable efforts to downplay these actions; its lashing out at protesters (both in terms of violent repression and rhetorical marginalisation) tended to be coupled with invocations of the nation and the national democratic revolution that was supposedly being betrayed by those protesting. The banning of gatherings and repression of movements from about 2002 onwards sparked new struggles and increasing support for existing movements.

Far from slowing down after Zuma became president (after all, with the support of at least some of the organised political left), there has been a continuous wave of strikes and service delivery protests since last May. The most visible example for the crack down on community action has been in the mob attacks against residents affiliated with the shackdwellers’ movement Abahlali baseMjondolo in the Kennedy Road township in Durban in September 2009. Homes were damaged and individuals and families were displaced or forced to flee, with at last two deaths confirmed. The Zuma Government has ignored Abahlali base¬Mjondolo’s calls for an independent commission of inquiry into the attacks, which are alleged to have occurred with the knowledge of the police and the ANC.

Abahlali and many other social and community organisations have called for protests during the World Cup, with the shackdwellers’ organisation announcing they would set up shacks outside the Green Point stadium to show the world the squalor in which they live and that the World Cup has not improved their lives. Their deputy chairperson Mthobeli Zona is quoted in the Sowetan as saying: ‘We know the government will send the police to beat us in front of the media and the whole world will know about our struggles’. Television viewers might be faced with a glimpse of the reality of many ordinary South Africans after all.

Im Vorlauf des World Cups 2010 in Südafrika schreibt die in London lebende Soziologin Dr. Natascha Müller-Hirth für Munitionen über Johannesburg, Hoffnungen und Versprechungen, die WM des Protests, den südafrikanischen Staatspräsidenten Jacob Zuma und weitere Ein- und Ausblicke im Land des WM-Gastgebers. Natascha Müller-Hirth hat in Südafrika gelebt und gearbeitet und vor allem Johannesburg hat einen speziellen Platz in ihrem Herzen eingenommen. Nicht wegen der Schönheit der Stadt (denn sie ist es nicht), sondern ihrer atemberaubenden Schnellebigkeit. In ihrer akademischen Arbeit beschäftigt sie sich mit südafrikanischer Politik nach dem demokratischen Übergang. Normalerweise meidet sie Fußball, doch bei dieser WM unterstützt sie - natürlich - die “Bafana Bafana”. Und bringt uns in vier Artikeln ihr Südafrika näher.

The city of gold
Egoli – the city of gold – as Jo’burg is also known, is regularly proclaimed one of the most dangerous cities in the world. The crime statistics that have worried potential investors and World Cup visitors so much need to be seen in this above context of entrenched and deepening inequalities, massive job losses and rising poverty. The city is a place of immense contradictions, where many of the problems at the heart of Post-Apartheid development are extremely visible.

But then there is the city’s constant sense of emergency, its palpable energy and the way everything seems in flux, on edge. Was it Christopher Hope that wrote that Jo’burg has more energy in its tiniest suburb than entire other cities? That there is a strange urgency to people’s partying in Jozi, as though a disaster is about to happen and there isn’t much time left. I think of this as the gold rush mentality. Jo’burg was founded in 1886 when gold was discovered in the Witwatersrand, and only 9 years later the gold fields were producing 27% of the world’s gold, supporting a population of 100,000 from all over Southern Africa and the world. The ever-expanding city quickly became the most cosmopolitan in Africa, containing a huge cultural mix and giving it this special energy that it retains until today where it still attracts all kinds of people seeking to make their fortunes.

But the city does not just retain the character of the gold rush; its geography continues to reflect colonial and Apartheid residential segregation. Back then, racial mixing was considered dangerous, black neighbourhoods were constructed both as sites of degeneration and disease and of political mobilisation and resistance. Still, the Apartheid regime needed a constant supply of cheap labour near Johannesburg’s Central Business District and its residential neighbourhoods. The townships in and around Johannesburg are a result of this ‘dilemma’ of Apartheid urbanisation. Soccer City, where the World Cup final will take place, is in Soweto, itself a huge township south-west of the city centre.

The binaries of the neoliberal gold rush
These geographies of segregation have not vanished but have been further augmented by the second, the neo-liberal, gold-rush of the 1990s. A striking image people sometimes evoke is the contrast of Sandton’s world class glitzy malls, skyscrapers and office blocks with the neighbouring Alexandra, an overcrowded and impoverished township with a considerable percentage of informal settlements, poor services and exposure to flooding.

These binary oppositions can distract from the fact that considerable progress is made by the Government in terms of housing and improving of access to services. But it is also true that these steps have been contradicted by the adoption of cost-recovery measures for service provisions, leaving township residents unable to pay water, electricity or rent. Like the rest of South Africa, Johannesburg remains deeply unequal and exclusionary 16 years after the country’s transition to democracy. As I’ll write in my next post, the funding allocated to building stadia and infrastructure associated with the World Cup has been taken from public funds destined for basic service provision and housing for the poorest citizens. So World Cup’s legacy may be a society whose essential contradictions, so plain to see from the vantage point of Constitution Hill, will be even greater.

Im Vorlauf des World Cups 2010 in Südafrika schreibt die in London lebende Soziologin Dr. Natascha Müller-Hirth für Munitionen über Johannesburg, Hoffnungen und Versprechungen, die WM des Protests, den südafrikanischen Staatspräsidenten Jacob Zuma und weitere Ein- und Ausblicke im Land des WM-Gastgebers. Natascha Müller-Hirth hat in Südafrika gelebt und gearbeitet und vor allem Johannesburg hat einen speziellen Platz in ihrem Herzen eingenommen. Nicht wegen der Schönheit der Stadt (denn sie ist es nicht), sondern ihrer atemberaubenden Schnellebigkeit. In ihrer akademischen Arbeit beschäftigt sie sich mit südafrikanischer Politik nach dem demokratischen Übergang. Normalerweise meidet sie Fußball, doch bei dieser WM unterstützt sie - natürlich - die “Bafana Bafana”. Und bringt uns in vier Artikeln ihr Südafrika näher.

No doubt that many of the fans staying in Johannesburg during the World Cup are going to visit Constitution Hill. It is one of only a few tourist sights in a city that is notable for what we might call an architecture of fear: high walls, electric fences, barbed wire, private armed security. South Africa is one of the world’s most violent societies, with Jo’burg considered one of the most dangerous cities. Constitution Hill is one of only a few landmarks in a city that famously has no river, no sea front, no mountain by which to help you navigate. And it’s beautiful up there. From the hill, there is an amazing view over the city; over the shiny skyscrapers of the Central Business District and the Hillbrow skyline and the leafy green suburbs (no landmarks but six million trees!), all the way to the mine dumps in the distance, scarring the landscape and providing a constant reminder of what the city was built on. And in June, the sky will be a crisp deep blue, no clouds in the winter sky, the Gauteng light bright and sharp.

Past, Present, Future
You could say that Con Hill signifies South Africa’s past, present and future. Today it is home to the highest court of the country, which guards what is arguably the most progressive constitution in the world. But it is built on the foundations of the Old Fort, a high security prison erected by the Boers in the 19th century. During Apartheid the prison tracts were used to detain political activists and criminals but also many ordinary people, under notoriously inhumane conditions. Nelson Mandela and his fellow Rivonia Trial defendants were held here when they were accused of treason in 1963/ 1964. The court building itself is beautiful: there are lots of windows, sculptures and open spaces. It showcases the work of South African artists and it uses a traditional African system for cooling. Its huge doors are decorated with wood carvings depicting constitutionally guaranteed human rights in all the eleven South African languages; the stairs are covered with tiny bronze ornaments, each individually designed.

It is very much indicative of the new South Africa to build this symbol of democracy and equality on a site that stands for some of the country’s most notorious history and its gravest violations of human rights. Old sites, memories and identities stand side by side with new, Post-Apartheid ones, apparently without an attempt to revise or erase history. On the contrary – Con Hill shows how architecture and public history are purposely being refashioned to forge a new democratic identity.

Contradictions and challenges
But from the height of Constitution Hill the inequalities that persist 16 years after the first democratic elections, 20 years after Mandela’s walk to freedom, are also clearly visible. The crowded inner city neighbourhoods; the tower of Sandton City that dominates the ‘new’ business district when capital fled the central business district; wealthy suburbs like Parktown and Westcliff, gated communities of faux-Tuscan houses guarded by electric fencing and privatised security. And then there is the evocative skyline of Hillbrow, towering over crumbling facades that tell a familiar story about immigration, destitution and crime, about the journey from segregation to brief cosmopolitan heyday to current decay. And yet, Gauteng, the smallest of the country’s provinces which includes the vast metropolitan areas of Johannesburg and Pretoria, produces 10% of the GDP of the entire African continent.

Tourists are unlikely to visit Jo’burg’s poorer neighbourhoods, not least because the legacy of Apartheid is ever present in Jo’burg’s geography and residential segregation inscribed into the psyche of the city. Urban development after Apartheid seems only to have increased the city’s spatial, racial and class contradictions – Patrick Bond calls it the ‘quintessential neoliberal dystopia’. The restructuring and liberalisation of the South African economy that went hand in hand with the political transition to democracy have caused living conditions to be worse than under Apartheid for millions of black people – a fact that is almost impossible to grasp. South Africa has the highest Gini Coefficient, the indicator that measures inequality, and performs very poorly in terms of human development Index (125 out of 179 countries on the Human Development Index, compared to its ranking in 76th place based on income). In 2008, 40% of the population were unemployed, with millions literally unemployable due to the skills gap. The HIV pandemic and the belated response of the democratic Government have reduced life expectancy at birth to 50 years. That means that if mortality patterns remain unchanged, a child born in Africa’s richest country has the same chance of surviving to the age of 40 as a child born today in Guinea-Bissau.

So the challenges the new South Africa faces are huge. The World Cup has been billed as providing massive opportunities for the country – in terms of job creation, infrastructure development, tourism and also in terms of uniting the country and the whole continent. I will try to unpack some of these claims here over the new few days.

Zur spektakulären Neuverpflichtung von Mario Basler als neuen Trainer beim Fußball-Regionalligisten Eintracht Trier musstest du natürlich als “Deutschlands größtes Sportportal” auch was schreiben. Und zwar folgendes:

Für den zweimaligen deutschen Amateurmeister von der Mosel, der vor zwei Jahren für fragwürdige Schlagzeilen sorgte, als er binnen eines Jahres sechs Trainer in der Regionalliga verschliss, wird sich aber auch schon kurzfristig etwas ändern: Basler wird dem tristen Grau bei Heimspielen gegen Mechtersheim oder Cloppenburg Farbtupfer verleihen.

Dazu folgendes:

1.) Der Verschleiß von sechs Trainern in einer Saison war in der Oberliga, nicht in der Regionalliga.

2.) Mario Basler wird dem “tristen Grau” im Heimspiel gegen Cloppenburg keine “Farbtupfer verleihen”. Das Spiel war nämlich schon, endete 0-5, hatte als Folge die Entlassung von Trainer Werner Weiß und die Verpflichtung von - man ahnt es - Mario Basler.

3.) Dem Heimspiel gegen Mechtersheim - man ahnt es schon wieder - wird Mario Basler ebenso keine “Farbtupfer verleihen”. Die TuS Mechtersheim spielt nämlich gar nicht in der Regionalliga West, sondern in der Oberliga Südwest.

Erstklassig hingeschlampt recherchiert - Hut ab!

Sammer! Internationaler Trainerkongress! In Wiesbaden! Und Sie mittendrin! Ja, was machen wir denn da?!

Er legte dem Fußball-Nachwuchs “deutsche Tugenden” wie Kampf, Ehrgeiz und Disziplin ans Herz. Vor den rund tausend anwesenden Fußballlehrern sagte er, bei aller Offenheit des Verbandes dürften traditionelle Werte nicht zu kurz kommen: “Wir dürfen unsere Mentalität aber nicht vergessen und müssen unsere eigene Identität wahren. Solange ich da bin, werden wir unsere Wurzeln nicht vergessen”, erklärte Sammer.

So stand’s bei Spiegel Online nachzulesen. Mensch, Sammer, da hätten wir gleich noch ein Zitat von Ihnen:

“Wenn ich am Ende als Nummer eins vorne stehe, dann können mich die Leute auch Arschloch rufen!”

Welche Prämisse nicht gegeben sein muss, damit ein weiterführender Bestandteil Ihrer Aussage dennoch Gültigkeit erlangt - Da können Sie ja demnächst mal drüber nachgrübeln. Aber bloß keine Mentalität oder Wurzelbehandlung vergessen!

Foto: www.dfb.de

Absurd genug, dass eine “Didaktische Konzeption” zum Thema “Nationalbewußtsein und Fußball-EM 2008″ für den bundesweiten Schulunterricht auf den Lehrer-Markt geworfen werden muss.

“Mit aktualisierten Materialien zur Fußball-EM 2008 können Lehrerinnen und Lehrer auch in diesem Jahr die Frage der nationalen Identität und der Rolle des Fußballs in unserer Gesellschaft in den Unterricht einbringen.”

Da wird dann gerne auf “das Wunder von Bern 1954, den Sieg bei der WM im eigenen Land 1974 oder den Gewinn der Weltmeisterschaft in Rom 1990 nach der Vereinigung der beiden deutschen Staaten” hingewiesen.

Bundeszentrale, mal ganz im Ernst: Wenn du schon unbedingt “nationale Euphorie” in den Lehrplan kloppen willst, dann mach das doch bittte auf eine Art, dass nicht schon Viertklässler lachen müssen. Das WM-Finale 1990 war nämlich wann? Genau, am 8. Juli. Und “die Vereinigung der beiden deutschen Staaten” war wann? Eben, exakt 87 Tage später.

Ach und übrigens, gerade als Bollwerk der “Politischen Bildung” solltest du nicht ganz so schwammig bzw. falsch mit Begrifflichkeiten umgehen: Eine “Vereinigung der beiden deutschen Staaten” gab es nicht. Völkerrechtlich wurden nicht die beiden deutschen Staaten vereint, sondern das “Deutsche Volk” und die “Territorien” als Teil “Gesamtdeutschlands”. Staatsrechtlich wird vom „Beitritt zum Geltungsbereich des Grundgesetzes der Bundesrepublik“ gesprochen. Das hättest du aber auch über einen Praktikanten bei Wikipedia rauskriegen können. Nicht, dass am Ende deine informierten Lehrer den Kindern dummes Zeug erzählen…