The Making of a Global FIFA: Cold War Politics and João Havelange's Election to the FIFA Presidency, 1950-1974 3110759683, 9783110759686

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Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui The Making of a Global FIFA

RERIS Studies in International Sport Relations

Edited by Philippe Vonnard and Amanda Shuman In collaboration with Georgia Cervin, Sylvain Dufraisse, Brenda Elsey, and Nicola Sbetti Réseaux d’études des relations internationales sportives (RERIS)

Volume 1

Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui

The Making of a Global FIFA

Cold War Politics and the Rise of João Havelange to the FIFA Presidency, 1950–1974 Translated by John Ellis-Guardiola

This book is a translation of the Portuguese original: Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui: A Dança das Cadeiras a eleição de João Havelange à presidência da FIFA (1950-1974), Editora Intermeios, São Paulo 2020. Fapesp supported this project with the process number 2021/01079-6.

ISBN 978-3-11-075968-6 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-075990-7 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-076004-0 ISSN 2750-0489 Library of Congress Control Number: 2022947795 Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2023 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Cover image: Newly elected FIFA President João Havelange receiving a clock from former FIFA President Stanley Rous, while FIFA General Secretary Helmut Käser looks on. @FIFA Archives/ Museum Printing and binding: CPI books GmbH, Leck www.degruyter.com

This book is dedicated to the living memory of Simoni Lahud Guedes, who passed away in 2019. Back in the 1970s, Simoni wrote the first master’s thesis on soccer and the social sciences – Futebol Brasileiro, institutição zero. Her work blazed a path for successive generations of researchers. Simoni, saudações rubro-negras.

Acknowledgements This book, now in English, is a modified version of my PhD dissertation, A dança das cadeiras: a eleição de João Havelange à presidência da FIFA, originally published in Portuguese. The translation was made possible due to a grant provided by the São Paulo Research Foundation (FAPESP), which also supported my work as a PhD student. FAPESP is a crucial institution for Brazil’s democracy and most recently has supported researchers whose work was critical in tackling the COVID-19 pandemic through developing vaccines, conducting mass testing, and advancing a vigorous scientific agenda. I hope that it is more apparent now than ever before just how crucial and necessary it is for society to prioritize funding for the sciences. Many people have been truly supportive in this long journey to publishing my book. First and foremost, I would like to thank my advisors, Flávio de Campos and Alexandre Moreli, Professors at the departments of History and International Relations, respectively, at the University of São Paulo (USP). Flavio supported my research from the very moment we met. Moreli has been an amazing advisor as well, inspiring me with his charisma and enthusiasm. Most of the archival material presented in this book was culled from the FIFA Archives in Zurich, Switzerland. I would like to thank Dominick Peterman and Michael Schmalzholz in particular for all their patience and kindness during this process. Nicolas Barré also helped with the photo used on the cover of this book. A special thanks to the archival staff at the Moreira Salles Archive, the Brazilian National Archive, the Brazilian Olympic Library, the National Archives of United Kingdom, the IOC Archives, the National Football Museum in Preston, UK, and the Itamaraty Archives both in Brasília and Rio de Janeiro. I wish to mention João Sedas Nunes, at NOVA University Lisbon, for our intellectual exchange and friendship. I would also like to thank the members of my dissertation defense committee, Jose Paulo Florenzano, Victor Mello, and Bernardo Buarque de Hollanda, for all their comments and encouragement to publish the book in English. To Phillipe Vonnard and everyone on De Gruyter’s academic board, thank you so much for the comments and the support during the editorial process. I also want to thank my translator, John Ellis-Guardiola, for his excellent work. To my mother, Maria Luiza, for all her support in becoming who I am. Finally, to my family, namely my spouse Clara and my son Noel for everything. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-002

Contents Acknowledgements List of abbreviations

VII XI

Foreword by Barbara J. Keys

XIII

Introduction 1 The invention of FIFA history 1 4 Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history? Football and Latin America’s Cold War: a state of the play Structure of the book 24

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Chapter 1 English stiffness: a political history of FIFA during the long sixties, 27 1959 – 1971 A political approach to FIFA history 27 The rise of Stanley Rous as president of FIFA 42 58 Latin America and the 1966 World Cup: a turning point? Chapter 2 The administrator: politics and ideology in the making of a social legacy (1916 – 1970) 73 João Havelange, an extraordinary life? 73 An indestructible body – becoming an Olympic athlete 76 From law school to swimming pools 83 The global Cold War and the Brazilian elite self-image 91 Chapter 3 “A Blonde Pelé”: business organization, political propaganda, and the 1970 World Cup 105 “A true representative of business leaders” 105 Unruliness explained 110 The business leaders, the ball, and the homeland 116 Where is the World Cup won? 132 The blast of gifts 137

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Contents

Chapter 4 At the heart of the Brazilian miracle: casing and political propaganda in 145 Havelange’s election as the president of FIFA (1971 – 1974) Tying the knots: connecting the global and the national 145 The role of the soccer agents in Havelange’s election to FIFA 150 163 Development, Brazilian style The age of the stadiums – promoting the Brazilian miracle 167 179 The Brazilian national team and the myth of racial democracy Chapter 5 The world that we had lost. FIFA political crisis and the making of a new international football order, 1971 – 1974 185 Voting maps 185 “We will not tolerate women’s soccer developing outside the normal 193 organization” China: the last act 196 205 A telegram from Santiago Europe in the mirror 213 Conclusion: a new international football order?

219

Annex: honors received by Havelange between August 1970 and July 1974 223 Bibliography Index

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List of abbreviations AERP (Assessoria Especial de Relações Públicas) – Special Advisory Office for Public Relations AFA (Asociación del Fútbol Argentino) – Argentine Football Association AFC – Asian Football Confederation ARENA (Alianca Renovadora Nacional) – National Alliance of Renewal BBC – British Broadcasting Corporation BOC – Brazilian Olympic Committee BRICS – Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa CAF (Confédération Africaine de Football) – Confederation of African Football CBD (Confederação Brasileira de Desportos) – Brazilian Sports Confederation CBF (Confederação Brasileira de Futebol) – Brazilian Football Confederation CISM – International Military Sports Council CNC (Confederação Nacional do Comércio) – National Confederation of Commerce CND (Conselho Nacional de Desportos) – National Sports Council CNI (Confederação Nacional da Indústria) – National Confederation of Industry COB (Comitê Olímpico do Brasil) – Brazilian Olympic Committee CODI (Centro de Operações de Defesa Interna) – Center for Internal Defense Operations CONCACAF – Confederation of North, Central American and Caribbean Association Football CONIFA – The Confederation of Independent Football Associations CONMEBOL (Confederación Sudamericana de Fútbol) – South American Football Confederation COSENA (Comissão Selecionadora Nacional) – National Selection Commission CPI (Comissão Parlamentar de Inquérito) – Congressional Inquiry CSF (Confederación Sudamericana de Fútbol) – South American Football Confederation DAO – Division of Asia and Oceania DFB (Deutscher Fußball-Bund) – German Football Association EBU – European Broadcasting Union ECLAC – Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean FA – Football Association FAPESP (São Paulo State Research Foundation) FASA – Football Association of South Africa FBI – Federal Bureau of Investigation FFF (Fédération Française de Football) – French Football Federation FIESP (Federação das Indústrias do Estado de São Paulo) – Federation of Industries of the State of São Paulo FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association) – Federation Internationale de Football Association FPF (Federação Paulista de Futebol) – Paulista Football Federation FPF (Federação Portuguesa de Futebol) – Portuguese Football Federation GANEFO – Games of the New Emerging Forces IAAF – International Amateur Athletics Federation IBC (Instituto Brasileiro do Café) – Brazilian Coffee Institute IOC – International Olympic Committee IPES (Instituto de Pesquisas e Estudos Sociais) – Institute for Research and Social Studies IPM (Inquéritos Policiais Militares) – Political and Military Inquires https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-003

XII

List of abbreviations

ISEB (Instituto Superior de Estudos Brasileiros) – Higher Institute of Brazilian Studies ISL – International Sports Leisure MEC (Ministério da Educação e Cultura) – Ministry of Education and Culture NEFOs – New Emerging Forces OLDEFOs – Old International Forces PSD (Partido Social Democrático) – Social Democratic Party PTB (Partido Trabalhista Brasileiro) – Brazilian Labor Party) SANOC – South African National Olympic Committee SENAC (Serviço Nacional de Aprendizagem Comercial) – Commercial Apprenticeship Service SESC (Serviço Social do Comércio) – Commercial Workers’ Social Service SNI (Serviço Nacional de Informações) – National Intelligence Service UBB (União de Bancos Brasileiros) – Union of Brazilian Banks UDN (União Democrática Nacional) National Democratic Union UEFA – Union of European Football Associations UK – United Kingdom UN – United Nations UNESCO – United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization USA – United States of America USSR – Union of Soviet Socialist Republic

Foreword by Barbara J. Keys For all that we think great leaders do – wring change out of resistant forces, shift the course of history from one path to another, inspire acolytes and defeat foes – we often overlook one of their most important pursuits. Great leaders create great myths. The vision and self-confidence that leads them to the reins of power also impels them, sometimes even before they are famous, to try to fashion their own legacies. Because they have the power to shape the stories that reach us, we often see what leaders want us to see. Their self-made narratives follow a particular pattern: they erase errors, minimize continuity and precedents, inflate accomplishments, and exaggerate the role of the individual relative to broader social and political developments. These narratives generate legitimacy, entrench authority, and deflect attention from alternative possibilities. What Luiz Burlamaqui reveals in his brilliant and insightful book is how much João Havelange followed this pattern. Jean-Marie Faustin Godefroid “João” de Havelange, the Brazilian who presided over FIFA from 1974 to 1998, is commonly celebrated as the man who led a struggling, amateurish organization out of the shoals of near-obscurity into the limelight, where wealth and power – and corruption – followed. Under his presidency, it is typically said, FIFA abandoned its anachronistic preoccupations, including a disdain for commercialism and a sentimental attachment to the ideals of gentlemanly amateurism, and became a global powerhouse. As the New York Times put it when he finally stepped down, Havelange turned “a fledgling operation in a private residence to a worldwide force that oversees a $250-billion-a-year international industry.”¹ Havelange accumulated power, and with that power he did indeed change FIFA. He also swayed how his record has been perceived. He followed the script that most modern mythmakers use: he spun his story ceaselessly to journalists and opinion leaders, wooed biographers, and produced official histories that tried to set his preferred history in stone. By painstakingly stripping away decades of encrusted Havelange-inspired lacunae and misconceptions, Burlamaqui forces upon us a new history of Havelange and of global football. He shows that FIFA was well on its way to being a globalized institution already in the 1960s. Havelange’s ascent was far less the rupture than the official histories portray; many of the innovations associated with Havelange began with his predecessor, the Englishman Stanley Rous.  “World Cup ’98,” New York Times, June 9, 1998, accessed August 31, 2022, https://www.ny times.com/1998/06/09/sports/world-cup-98-us-ally-elected-to-head-world-soccer-body.html. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-004

XIV

Foreword by Barbara J. Keys

Drawing on eleven archives in three countries and carefully dissecting a wide range of sources, including government reports, diplomatic cables, personal correspondence, interviews, and the records of FIFA and of national football federations, Burlamaqui brings a fresh eye to the story of football’s place in a world undergoing rapid transformation in the 1960s and 1970s. Offering a model of how to do transnational sport history, Burlamaqui embeds the story of football in political, economic, and ideological currents, tacking between local and global contexts. Every chapter brims with fresh insights. Scholars will find his account of the relationship between the history of FIFA and the history of Brazil of exceptional interest. Havelange’s era did mark a significant discontinuity: he was the only non-European to lead FIFA, and Burlamaqui helps us see exactly how a South American came to lead this important organization and why it mattered. Global football has never been a project independent of national and international politics, and Havelange’s ascent to the top of FIFA was intimately tied to Cold War political currents. Direct political influence (Havelange had the support of the Brazilian government in his campaign to lead FIFA) combined with ideological congruence. As Burlamaqui shows, under Rous and Havelange, a discourse of development permeated FIFA’s response to decolonization, tying world football to the Western political and economic projects that replaced imperialism. Burlamaqui is uniquely positioned to bring us this fresh history partly because he has mined Brazilian sources and has a deep understanding of the Brazilian context that was so important to Havelange and to FIFA. Burlamaqui also refuses to become a partisan in the contemporary scholarly debates about Havelange. He resists the easy, seductive power of the Havelange myth without sliding into the camp that sees Havelange primarily as an agent of the forces of corruption. Burlamaqui’s work instead shifts the discussion about Havelange onto new terrain: bureaucracy, technocratic administration, expertise, discourses of development, the role of networks, the influence of non-Western countries, and the interconnections between FIFA and the Brazilian military dictatorship of the 1960s and 1970s. Burlamaqui’s capacity to approach Havelange as a historical subject with critical detachment may partly be explicable because of when and how his interest developed. In 2012 and 2013, Burlamaqui wrote a Master’s thesis on the presidents of Brazilian football clubs, as part of which he was granted a two-hour interview with Havelange. One of the clubs he wrote about was Fluminense, where Havelange had been an athlete. As Burlamaqui says, when he talked to people in and around this club, Havelange was a hovering presence; his name was always coming up. Although for many years his name had been associated with various scandals, Havelange long remained a prominent and celebrated fig-

Foreword by Barbara J. Keys

XV

ure in the world of sport, in Brazil and beyond. This was particularly true during the years Lula was in power. Havelange, for example, was an influential member of the bid team that in 2009 won the 2016 Olympic Games for Rio de Janeiro. His long run as a member of the International Olympic Committee ended only in 2011, when he was forced to resign as accusations of corruption and bribe-taking mounted. In 2012 he was shown to have taken over $1.5 million in bribes, while more serious accusations continued to circulate. Burlamaqui’s interest in Havelange deepened during years when the great man’s reputation, both in Brazil and elsewhere, was changing rapidly, often in response to obvious political calculations by those in power. It is logical that Burlamaqui, who began his doctoral studies in 2015, would have had a clear sense of how malleable and fickle a reputation can be and how much the powerful can influence it. The result is a work of history that makes an essential contribution not only to the history of sport but to Brazilian history and the history of international politics.

Introduction An event is done and undone […] after all, it’s made by those who spread its notoriety. Georges Duby¹

The invention of FIFA history In the 1960s, the headquarters of the Federation International de Football Association (hereafter, FIFA) occupied a residential house around Zurich. Compared to the contemporary facilities, the place was modest. Situated in a relatively remote neighborhood, it was a European mansion, which could be the home of a Swiss millionaire. Anyone who passed by would confuse Helmü t Kaser, the secretary general of the entity, with the owner of the house, were it not for the small sign in front of the main entrance. In fact, Käser used to live there. Of the three floors: the first floor lent itself to the meetings of FIFA and of the Executive Committee; the second level served as the presidential cabinet; the third was exclusively the address of the secretary. Elias Zaccour, then one of the greatest businessmen in the world of soccer, visited the old building in February of 1974. His testimony is peculiar: […] the secretary [Helmut Käser] was there. He gave me a list. And then I hit my finger like that, there was so much dust on his desk. […] The dog lived with him, his daughters were all up there. So full of dust. This was [February of] 1974. Havelange arrived in [June of] 1974. The new headquarters of FIFA were inaugurated. [until 2007]²

On June 11, 1974, Brazilian João Havelange defeated Englishman Stanley Rous and became the seventh president of FIFA and the first (and so far the only) non-European. Zaccour’s speech describes the event, traversed by metaphors. The reference to the dust of the table of Käser is not occasional. It has a double effect. The first is to refer to something that is old or even archaic. Zaccour alludes to the ruins of the European colonial order. The environment of FIFA is identified as a place of relative abandonment, of precarious organization, where family relations subsisted (“the daughters were all up there”). The meaning of the allusion to the family is related to the exclusivity: FIFA belongs to Europe. More than Stanley Rous, Helmut Käser, who has long been regarded  Georges Duby, O domingo de Bouvines, 27 de julho de 1214 (Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1993), 195.  Interview with Elias Zaccour (2005). https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-005

2

Introduction

Figure 1: The old FIFA headquarters, 1950s. FIFA Archives, Zurich.

as the European opposition to Havelange itself, is evoked as the very symbol of this exclusivity. The figure of Käser is confused with that of his “dogs” (“the dog lived with him”) as the own guardians of the European domain. Here, Zaccour’s speech can be complemented by that of Peter Pullen, an advisor to the Brazilian Confederation of Sports in England, who was also in the building. Pullen remembers “two German shepherds” living in the environment, almost as if to say that the first guard dog was, in fact, Käser himself. One of the first acts of João Havelange at the presidency was to expel the secretary of the entity building. In order for him to step down, it would take another seven years.³

 Havelange himself told this same story as it follows. “FIFA today is wealthy. If one day… In May, I’ll be in Zurich. If you could go there, I would enjoy it. When I got there, I did… FIFA headquarters was in an old building, and the general-secretary lived with his wife, two children, two dogs and a cat, and under his apartment was FIFA headquarters where they held the meeting. So the most you could muster were six people. I arrived, he opened the door and everything, I saw that and said, “In a few months, you’re going to leave here because I’m going to buy a house and you go.” And he told me: “FIFA has no money.” I went and told him, “It’s not your problem.” I’ll tell you one thing: have you ever imagined – he lived like this – that I live in Comet (bus company that Havelange used to work for), in a garage, with my wife and daughter? It’s the same

The invention of FIFA history

3

The second effect of Zaccour’s image is to refer to the parable of the creation of the world. In 1974, the “arrival” of Havelange inaugurated a new time. The characterization of a “dusty” environment, which metamorphosis completely into a brand new one, evokes the narrative of the creation of the world. From the dust left by Helmut Käser, from the wreckage of the “old colonial order”, a new world breaks out. Havelange is the architect of this metamorphosis. When he arrived in 1974, it was a low-cash entity, dominated by Europeans. As Havelange himself likes to say, he had found FIFA in a penury “with only twenty dollars in cash”. Thanks to his managerial skills, Havelange was able to transform a modest family organization into a transnational company, whose balance reached (in 1998) almost 400 million dollars. Through Havelange hands, dust became gold.⁴ This is what can be identified as FIFA’s “official history.” In the words of anthropologist Clifford Geertz, “it is a tale that they tell themselves about themselves.”⁵ The strength of this representation in both the media and the historiography of soccer was largely due to João Havelange’s own skill and that of the agents who profit from his victory and the construction of a history of FIFA that was consistent with this event. In addition to mitigating the conflicts related to the Federation itself, this narrative eclipses the roles of several political agents within the entity and props up Havelange as the star of FIFA’s politics and history. In this sense, this narrative erases the fact that FIFA was already a vibrant, relatively globalized institution in the 1960s. Much like the International Olympic Committee, FIFA picked up steam with Europe’s post-war rebuilding effort and accelerated economically and politically throughout the Cold War and decolonization processes. For almost half a century Havelange and his allies sponsored books, magazines, and even movies that reproduced and reinforced this narrative. By analyzing different sources from a historical perspective, the main purpose of this book is to show how and why these agents succeeded in producing a narrative that placed them front and center of FIFA history.

thing. He stayed there, but eight months later he had the house. […] And I had terrible years with this general secretary, who was a Swiss-German. He had been there for some years, and Stanley Rous did nothing against him. What he came to hate me was tremendous.”. Interview with Havelange, located at Football Museum – CPDOC (São Paulo, 2012). Interview with Peter Pullen (2005).  João Havelange, interviewed by the author (Rio de Janeiro, 2011).  Clifford Geertz, “A religião como sistema cultural,” in A Interpretação das Culturas, ed. Clifford Geertz (Rio de Janeiro: LTC, 1989).

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Introduction

Figure 2: FIFA headquarters inaugurated in 1979. FIFA Archives, Zurich.

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history? In fact, the election of Havelange was a singular event. Havelange defeated the incumbent, Englishman Stanley Rous, an outcome that has yet to be repeated. Besides American Avery Brundage, who took over the International Olympic Committee (IOC) in 1952, Havelange was the only non-European to control either of the world’s two major international sports entities (FIFA and IOC). More significantly, Havelange’s victory, which was won with a vast majority of votes from countries in the Middle East, South America and the Caribbean, Africa, as well as Mexico and dissidents in Europe and Asia, was thus an outlier in the institution’s history. Notwithstanding, it was a nailbiter: 62 to 58 and four abstentions in the first round. The difference was slightly larger in the second round: 68 to 54 and two abstentions. Once president, Havelange solved FIFA’s main geopolitical problems: he reinstated the People’s Republic of China as a member of FIFA, expelled South Africa definitively, and allocated Israel to UEFA from the AFC. In 1976, Havelange signed FIFA’s first contract with CocaCola to finance football development projects. Nevertheless, his campaign was probably more impressive than his term. Taking advantage of political divisions

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?

5

within the organization, Havelange embarked on a global tour from 1971 to 1974. Sizing up the campaign effort, sociologist Alan Tomlinson estimated Havelange’s campaign spending at around £500,000. This is the same amount reported by Gianni Infantino in 2016. However, the main question stands, was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?⁶ Certainly, the election of Havelange to the presidency of the entity is the “foundation myth” of contemporary FIFA. In this sense, it is symptomatic that Zaccour made no distinction between Havelange’s triumph (in 1974) and the opening of FIFA headquarters (in 1979). The election and the new headquarters are seen as products of the same historical event. The problem begins when this image stretches beyond the frame of the official discourse. As ingrained as it is recurrent, this narrative pervades both academic literature and journalistic production on football, not to mention those who, like Zaccour, were directly engaged in the campaign. Thus, it is almost a consensus that Havelange’s victory over Englishman Stanley Rous divided the historical chronology of FIFA and, more broadly, the world of football into two eras. Even those who opposed Havelange failed to come up with an alternative history of the entity. Juca Kfouri, a Brazilian journalist and critic of the former president confirms this account: “Until 1974 […] FIFA was an entity predominantly focused on the interests of European football. […] it is undeniable that it was the Brazilian [Havelange] who was responsible for the change, which transformed FIFA into a transnational company.” Another journalist, Andrew Jennings was even drier and sharper: “Goodbye Sir Stanley. Greetings to a new time. 1974 was the watershed in FIFA’s history.” For Jennings and Kfouri, 1974 was the year that football was corrupted by excess money circulating through FIFA. Although disenchanting, the universe created by the Brazilian was certainly new. Capable of creating a world in the image and likeness of its creator, Havelange’s election to the FIFA presidency was definitely a turning point.⁷ This underwhelming version of Havelange’s election began to be written less than five days after the election in a letter where Stanley Rous could not conceal his grudge: “As you may have seen on the news, black power, corruption, and bribery took control over our congress.” In this private letter, Rous made no dis-

 Alan Tomlison, “FIFA and the men who made it,” Soccer & Society 1 (2000): 55, accessed June 13, 2022, doi: 10.1080/14660970008721248.  Juca Kfouri, “Futebol, ouro e lama,” in Tempos vividos, sonhados e perdidos: um olhar sobre o futebol, ed. Tostão (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2016), 183. Andrew Jennings, Jogo Sujo – O Mundo Secreto da Fifa, (São Paulo: Panda Books, 2012).

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Introduction

tinction between “black power” and “bribery and corruption.”⁸ Here, the history of defeat is a story of the loss of a domain and is often told with a good deal of romanticism, which obliterates both the Eurocentrism and racism that permeates these narratives. “The world we have lost,” to quote a famous book title by historian Peter Laslett, “was a pure one.”⁹ Therefore, that perception of a “world turned upside down” was even able to affect the image of Rous itself. David Goldblatt, for example, stated that: President Stanley Rous was an anachronism in his own lifetime, exemplified by his unflagging commitment to the notion of public service, his enduring affection for Olympian amateurism, his antipathy to both the commercialism and politicization of football and his missionary zeal for spreading the racial prejudices of his clerical counterparts.¹⁰

Indeed, many of the elements that Goldblatt characterizes as being “anachronic” such as the commitment to public service or the antipathy to the politicization of sport can also be found in many of Havelange’s political speeches. Moreover, it is virtually impossible to find a text, letter or speech from Stanley Rous, where he takes a stance openly against the commercialization of the sport. Rous was directly responsible for negotiating FIFA’s first major television contracts. In 1966, he negotiated directly with the BBC for the sale of the broadcasting rights to the World Cup and in 1970 he went to Mexico to negotiate with Televisa. This second contract fetched 5 million dollars, a relatively impressive amount at the time. In 1973, Rous went to the Congress of the International Olympic Committee and defended the commercialization of the sport before a conservative institution. Rous characterized the Olympic movement’s emphasis on the strict separation between sport and commercialization as “unrealistic” as well as “unrelated to reality.” Nevertheless, the image of him as a relatively naïve and nostalgic romantic is what remained for history.¹¹ In a sense, Rous was partially responsible for how he came to be remembered by history books. In his autobiography, Football Worlds, Rous referred to

 FIFA. Correspondance from Stanley Rous to Harry Banks (July 16, 1974). One letter. IOC Archives. COI DRM02.FOOTB005.  Peter Laslett, El mundo que hemos perdido, explorado de nuevo (Alianza Editorial, 1983).  David Goldblatt, The Ball is Round: a global history of football (Nova Iorque: Penguin UK, 2006), 517.  Report Stanley Rous, attached to the Executive Committee Minutes – ExCo – Files (Guadalajara Meeting, 1968). “The international committee, the international federations and the National Olympic Committees.” FIFA Archives. FIFA, “texts and speechs on football”. IOC Archives. DRMFOOTB.022, 1973 – 1986. IOC Archives.

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?

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himself as “the schoolmaster”¹² to state his dislike for political quarrels, as if he wanted to be only a teacher. His self-perception turned out to be less crucial than the political struggle within FIFA for establishing the limits of his legacy. Many of the programs created by Stanley Rous were expanded and developed by Havelange. In 1963, meeting a direct demand from Third World countries, the “FIFA Development Program” was created under the Rous presidency. In 1986, when Rous passed away, FIFA News published an obituary in its monthly magazine. There is no mention of the role Stanley Rous played in the creation of the Development Programs, which at the time were Havelange’s main political platform. The same obituary reduced Rous’s performance at the helm of FIFA to someone concerned about standardizing laws and protecting them. Additionally, the writer of the obituary informs the reader how Rous “will enter history”: Sir Stanley Rous will enter the history of international football as a very great personality whose first concern was the preservation and respect of the Laws of the Game, advocating thus the fundamental basis, which is the source of joy and satisfaction of our sport association football.¹³

The more Havelange claimed to be the president of a new global and international FIFA, the more it became necessary for him to reduce Rous’s political influence. In 1998, FIFA Magazine published a collection of stories on the FIFA presidents. The main purpose of the collection was to celebrate the Havelange’s 24 years in the top job at FIFA. The years between the presidency of Jules Rimet and that of João Havelange are simply defined as “the pre-Havelange era”. The magazine depicted Rous and Drewry as if they were preparing FIFA for the arrival of something completely new. The portrayal of Rous reduced his political action as head of FIFA to that of a referee. In this special edition, there is even a photo of him refereeing a friendly between Italy and Hungary in 1933. Even if much of Rous’s crucial support came from East Asia, North America and Oceania, he was described as being “backed mainly by European Associations.”¹⁴ Once again, there is simply no mention of the creation of the Development Programs under his presidency. Stanley Rous’s legacy was boiled down to being referee and a European. In official sources, Rous and Havelange are presented as symbols of different eras in FIFA’s history. Whether 1974 was the year that changed everything in FIFA’s history is a tempting question but should be sidestepped. In the last cen-

 Stanley Rous, Football worlds: A lifetime in sport (Londres: Faber & Faber, 1978).  “Stanley Rous Obituary,” FIFA News, July 6, 1986.  FIFA magazine, December, 1983.

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Introduction

tury, historians have learned to distrust radical chronological frameworks, which lead to abrupt ruptures. Marc Bloch called this temptation to seek an inaugural moment the “fetishism of origins.” In his view, this methodological attitude hinders the very work of the historian, which is to historicize and contextualize social phenomena, not to monumentalize dates and celebrate historical characters. Bloch noted that the temptation to find an event inaugurating a new order was a cliché of a brand of metaphysical history, present both in the theology of Christianity and in the foundation narratives of contemporary nation-states. “In popular usage, an origin is a beginning that explains. […] For most historical realities the very notion of a starting-point remains singularly elusive.”¹⁵ Marc Bloch’s warning meant that for a long time historians scoured events in the name of social processes. Interested in understanding social phenomena, historical analysis should move away from the events perceived as exceptional and toward medium and long-term social structures. More recently, however, social scientists have revived the study of the event. According to anthropologist Marshall Sahlins, problem lies in the event- social process (or structure) duality. Without abandoning the terms of the relationship, Sahlins shows how An event becomes such as it is interpreted. Only as it is appropriated in and through the cultural scheme does it acquire an historical significance. […] The event is a relation between a happening and the structure (or structures): an encompassment of the phenomenon in itself as a meaningful value…¹⁶

A practical example of the problems formulated by Sahlins can be seen in the monograph written by Georges Duby, The Legend of Bouvines. In the nationalist historical literature, Dimânche de Bouvines was thought of as one of the founding events of the State of France. In this battle, the king of France, Philip Augustus, defeated the coalition formed by the king of Germany, Otto, the Count of Ferrand of Flanders, and Count Renaud of Boulogne. The victory of Philip Augustus was overwhelming: at night, there was no longer anybody in France who disputed his power. The emperor had fled and the two rebellious counts had been arrested. “The event that took place on the Sunday of July 27 was incontestably significant,” Georges Duby wrote exaggeratedly, “It was the first “battle champel” a king of France had dared wage in a century […] After Bouvines, nothing more can stand in the way of the incredible expansion of the royal domain. (…) Bouvines

 Marc Bloch, Apologia da história ou O ofício de historiador (Rio de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar, 2001), 38.  Marshall Sahlins, Ilhas da história (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1990), 12.

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fixed the destinies of all the European states for centuries to come.”¹⁷ From Duby’s perspective, the event is a ritual. In historical events, a series of behaviors and norms that would remain invisible, reveal themselves to what Duby calls “the historian of latencies.” Here, the event is no longer “the origin that explains”, to take up the words of Marc Bloch, but the “observation post”, from where the “sociology of war of the thirteenth century” takes place: […] I also think that it is precisely because it has a great resonance, because it is ‘magnified by the impressions of witnesses, by the illusions of historians,’ because it is spoken of for a long time, because its irruption raises a torrent of discourse, that the singular event has its value […] Due to the very fact that it is exceptional, the event brings out, in the flood of words that it releases, traces that without such investigation, would remain in the dark, unnoticed, the most banal features that are rarely spoken of in everyday life and are never written about. […] When it came to Bouvines, though, people started talking about it that night and have never stopped since.¹⁸

Reinforced by institutions, events become categories themselves and are constantly reassessed through political action. In the words of Michel de Certeau, the event is what it becomes.¹⁹ Produced as a rule by the agents involved, historical documents are inscribed in power relations. Once again, it is because victorious agents invest so many resources in spreading their own deeds that events are propagated. Just like the Dimânche de Bouvines, the history of Havelange’s election began to be written on the day he won his victory. Over the last 50 years, however, it has been told in different ways. It takes a lot longer to produce an event than is usually assumed. The story of Havelange’s election as told in the late 1970s was a far cry from later versions. Shortly after being elected president of FIFA, Havelange began to spread the reputation of his own achievement. What happened in 1974 did not seem to be new by 1976. In most of Havelange’s interviews in the 1970s, he praised the FIFA organization. His term was not seen as a radical break, but rather more of the same. In 1976, less than two years after taking over the organization, Havelange stated FIFA has millions of dollars. […] At FIFA, there are practically no administrative problems. […] FIFA knows four years ahead how much it will have to spend in the next four. The struc-

 Georges Duby, O domingo de Bouvines, 27 de julho de 1214 (Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1993), 195.  Duby, O domingo de Bouvines, 10 – 11.  Michel de Certeau, La prise de parole. Et autres écrits politiques (POINTS, 1994).

10

Introduction

ture allows for planning in the medium and long term, with planned schedules. There is no financial trouble. […] The only issue, therefore, is preparing budgets.²⁰

There is a stark contrast when comparing this excerpt with that from an interview conducted in 2012, for the book João Havelange, o dirigente esportivo do século XX: When I arrived… Europe was the only region that had a voice. I must apologize for my lack of modesty, but had I not made it to FIFA, today’s reality would be different. When I first arrived there was barely USD 20 in hand. Until 1974, between one World Cup and another, the Federation received loans from the European Football Union. After I arrived, the improvements were tremendous.²¹

The nature of the speech overlaps with the narrator’s social status. In the first excerpt, Havelange was involved in the political struggle at FIFA. Thus, he was speaking from within the entity, as a newly elected president, still trapped in the political struggles that surrounded him. At that point, the future would be the result of those struggles but by then only time could tell. In the second case, the narrator’s position was different: by this point, Havelange was able to make use of the past to his benefit as he knew what happened. After a triumphant career, he was able to cast himself in the leading role in the entity’s history. In this sense, 1974 was the natural setting. The process of constructing FIFA’s historical record was led, as much as it could be, by those who governed the institution. Aware of his social position, Havelange stored a series of photographs, event invitations, documents and separate letters, diplomas, trophies, and newspaper clippings. Access to Havelange’s personal file is now open for consultation at the COB (Brazilian Olympic Committee) Library. Even more important than Havelange’s personal collection, only recently made available to the public, is the record showing just how prodigal he was when it came to sponsoring books about his own career and that of FIFA. There were two books on FIFA organized directly by Havelange, several forewords (including academic books) written by him, and five sponsored books directly linked to his person. As Havelange consolidated his power within FIFA, the 1974 election grew in importance. In the 1990s, Havelange gave successive interviews to newspapers and academics around the world, where he would almost invariably repeat the story of how he transformed a family business into a multi Interview with João Havelange ([1976]) in João Havelange: determinação e coragem, ed. Vivaldo Azevedo (Rio de Janeiro: Cia. Nacional, 1978).  José Mário Pereira and Silvia Marta Vieira, João Havelange, o dirigente esportivo do século XX, (Rio de Janeiro: Casa da Palavra, 2010).

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?

11

national thanks to his own managerial skills. In the last decade of his life, Havelange rarely declined an interview, spreading his own version of history extensively in the media. Finally, it should be noted that the second half of the 1990s marks the substantive increase in the publication of academic production on sports, particularly on sports institutions. Considering the power of Havelange’s FIFA, it was easy and seductive to draw a straight line between the success of the 1994 and 1998 World Cups and the 1974 election of Havelange.²² The proof that Havelange cared and was aware of his historical legacy is the public fight between him and his own biographer, journalist Ernesto Rodrigues. Rodrigues is a well-known figure in Brazil and wrote a biography of Ayrton Senna, which has enjoyed months on the best-seller list. He has worked in the country’s main media outlets, like the weekly magazine Veja and Rede Globo de Televisão. Rodrigues decided to write a biography of Havelange. He conducted over 30 hours of recorded interviews in Brazil with Havelange, alone. Once the biography was complete, Havelange was unhappy with what had been written. This led Havelange even to threaten to sue Rodrigues, which never happened. Rodrigues filmed the conversations and arguments he had with Havelange, and produced a movie called Conversa com JH (Writer’s Block). The movie shows how the disputes between the two were fierce, with Havelange even scratching pages of Rodrigues’ biography before the author. Joseph Blatter, Havelange’s political heir, followed in his footsteps when it came to investing in the institution’s history. Inspired by his predecessor, Blatter inaugurated a FIFA headquarters in 2007 and launched a book, The Home of FIFA, dedicated to the building’s modernist architecture. On each occasion where Joseph Blatter celebrated the “Havelange era,” he also celebrated himself. In political terms, there was a patent continuity between the two administrations. In 2014, FIFA sponsored United Passions, a film that recreates the institution’s history and whose budget was $17 million. The film was released right after the arrests of FIFA officials by the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). It was a box office failure. Jules Rimet, João Havelange, and Joseph Blatter – played by

 Havelange wrote the foreword for Tessema, FIFA, Zurich, self-published, 1996 and also for Gyorg Syzpesi FIFA: die story Untere ein Ungarischen spiegel. FIFA, Zurich, 1981. Both were members of the FIFA Executive Committee Havelange wrote d the back cover of Tomlison e Sugden, FIFA and the contest for World Football, op.cit. Those books, as it follows were published to honor Havelange carreer. João Havelange: determinação e coragem, 1978, Jovem Havelange: a FIFA no Terceiro Milênio, 1998; João Havelange, o dirigente esportivo do século XXI, 2012, and Jogo Duro: a história de João Havelange, by Ernesto Rodrigues. Also, Fédération internationale de Football Association, 1904– 1984. Zurich: self-published, 1984; 90 years of FIFA – 20 years of FIFA Presidency. Zurich: FIFA, 1994.

12

Introduction

Gérard Depardieu, Sam Neil, and Tim Roth, respectively – are the three main characters, with a quick mention of Stanley Rous. Blatter and Havelange’s high-level investments in the “framing” of their and FIFA’s history are noteworthy.²³ Here, it should be kept in mind that the writing processes of history are inseparable from political struggle. Therefore, the right to tell FIFA’s institutional history is partly a product and the result of the political struggles that have shaped the organization over the last century.²⁴ In this sense, analyzing the books sponsored by Havelange may help to trace how the perception of his election has changed over time. Havelange sponsored at least five books about himself. The common thread running through almost all of them is that the author’s name does not appear on the front cover, but rather on the back cover, and sometimes only discreetly. The first book was released less than four years after he was elected. João Havelange: determinação e coragem (João Havelange: Determination and courage) was published by Brazilian National Press and edited by Vivaldo Coaracy. Havelange threw a large party to celebrate the release at the Association of Sports Writers of the State of Rio de Janeiro (Associação dos Cronistas Esportivos do Estado do Rio de Janeiro). Coaracy was a personal friend of Havelange. Between 1969 and 1974, he was responsible for publishing the Bulletin of the Brazilian Sports Confederation (Boletim da CBD). It was a means through which Havelange could spread his own ideas to the general public. Coaracy was the first writer to tell the story of Havelange’s campaign for the FIFA presidency. The book outlines Havelange’s life, from “childhood in Cosme Velho” to “the victory day.” Coaracy narrates how Havelange cleared the highest hurdles to reach that fateful day in Frankfurt. In Coaracy’s book, the Havelage’s election is described as a “Brazilian Odyssey.” In this “Brazilian Odyssey,” the space of Havelange’s political action is that of the Brazilian nation-state. This book draws a clear line between Havelange’s project and the Brazilian elite. His victory is the victory of a particular national project: the project of the “Brazilian miracle.” From 1969 to 1973, Brazil’s economy grew at a rate of 10 percent a year. This period was also marked by an increase in civilian opposition to the military government in Brazil. The regime cracked down with more violence, imprisoning and torturing hundreds of opponents. Keep in mind that this repression relied on the aid and support of a sig-

 “Framing memory” is an expression by historian Michael Pollack. Michael Pollack, “Memória, esquecimento e silêncio,” Estudos Históricos 2 (1989): 3, accessed July 13, 2022, https://bib liotecadigital.fgv.br/ojs/index.php/reh/article/view/2278.  The home of FIFA (Zurich: FIFA, self-published, 2007). Pierre Lanfranchi et al., 100 years of Football: The FIFA Centennial Book (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolosn, 2004).

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?

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nificant part of the business community. Havelange was seen and perceived as part of that group. The main point for Coaracy is that Havelange’s individual success was the material evidence of the collective triumph of a given political elite ruling Brazil at the time. Ex-President Medici’s quotes, spread throughout the book, show the connection between Havelange’s victory and the government at the time. Coaracy also recalls the “Mascate” Award given to Havelange by the National Confederation of Trade (CNC) in 1970. On that occasion, Havelange was described as the prodigal son of the Brazilian elite. “Who better than Havelange to sell the image of Brazil abroad?” In a simple equation, it is almost as if Brazil’s victories on the soccer field represented those of the Brazilian “people” while Havelange’s action abroad symbolized the success of the project carried out by the political elite. In the words of Vargas Netto, Havelange was the “Blond Pelé.”²⁵ A man who captured his efforts and anguish, who suffered from solidarity, but always hoped for, always dreamed of, absorbed the blows like those veteran fighters who are always recovering. This man is João Havelange… Just as Pelé rolled that ball to Jair and the other to Carlos Alberto and waited for the explosion, the CBD President rolled out an errand for Captain Coutinho and a duty for Brigadier Jeronymo, both men he trusted and rolled out another for Zagalo […] Like Pelé he was playing for the team. […] Pelé became blond. Still, he was Pelé.²⁶

This story continues eight years later. In 1984, on the ten-year anniversary of Havelange’s election, another book came out: FIFA, 1904 – 1984. It is worth observing that FIFA had not produced an official book since late the 1920s. In the 1950s the Executive Committee even considered a commemorative book to mark the institution’s fiftieth anniversary. Entitled the Golden Book of FIFA, a line item was included in the organization’s budget to finance it but in the end, the idea was snuffed out due to lack of funding. The impact of this type of literature should not be neglected. It presents a rare opportunity for the FIFA community to spread  Bernardo Buarque de Hollanda journalists like Vargas Netto as “cronistas-cartolas”. Cartola (Top Hat) in an expression that means “sporting director”. Vargas Netto was at the same time sports directors and a journalists. It is worth mentioning that Vargas Netto was the nephew of Getúlio Vargas, and son of Minister Viriato Dorneles Vargas. He presided over nearly a decade of the Metropolitan Football Federation (FMF), as well as being a member of the National Sports Council (CND) and vice president of the Brazilian Olympic Committee (COB) for a decade. Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda, “O cor-de-rosa: ascensa˜ o, hegemonia e queda do Jornal dos Sports entre 1930 e 1980,” in O esporte na imprensa e a imprensa esportiva no Brasil, ed. Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda and Victor Andrade de Melo (Rio de Janeiro: 7 Letras, 2012), 94– 95.  “Um Pelé Louro,” Boletim da CBD, August, 1970.

14

Introduction

its own ideas in press and academic circles. In FIFA, 1904 – 1984, the authors emphasized the beginnings of FIFA and the organization’s rapid transformation in the 1970s. Havelange’s legacy was inked in the signing of the contract with CocaCola (in 1978) and the foundation of the organization’s technical development programs. Throughout the publication, Havelange appears in pictures playing football on the African continent. Like Rous’s obituary, there is no mention of creating those development programs during his presidency. They are Havelange’s trademark. Nevertheless, the mentions of his victory against Rous as a founding event remain timid in this publication. Those who read it have the feeling that FIFA is going through significant yet gradual changes.²⁷ Havelange extended an invitation to edit that book to three authors: Gunther Furrer, Joseph Blatter and Paulo Godoy. Gunther Furrer had been hired by FIFA in the late 1970s after a brief career as editor of the Neue Zurich Zeitung. One can’t say much about Furrer’s participation in the book, however that of Paulo Godoy and Joseph Blatter is certainly strategic. Godoy was one of the editors of the Comércio e Mercado magazine, sponsored by the National Confederation of Trade (CNC) Between 1971 and1975, Godoy was also executive secretary of the CNC. In 1970, this same body awarded Havelange with the “Mascate” award Godoy and Havelange were childhood friends. Although they had attended the same school, the Liceu Francês in Laranjeiras, at different times. Additionally, they participated in the Fluminense Futebol Clube where they would deepen their friendship. Alongside Abílio de Almeida (who later became a member of the FIFA Executive Committee) and João Lyra Filho, Godoy was one of the three key advocates for electing Havelange, who organized most of the campaign. […] I was the ghost writer and a confidant. The person with whom he could tell the stories. […] In my life, I had always been the “secretary.” The word secretary is has embedded with the concept of secret. A discrete fellow. Someone who can die, but does not tell anyone anything.²⁸

According to Godoy, Havelange had invited him to be the secretary general of the organization. In fact, Godoy was at FIFA in October 1974, as seen in the correspondence between the Brazilian Sports Confederation and Helmut Käser. In a cordial and brief letter, Godoy praised Käser’s reception at FIFA House. Almost

 In 1929, Carl William Hirschman published the Fédération Internationale de Football Association, 1904 – 1929. Amsterdam: J. H. de Bussy, 1929. For the information about the Golden Book of FIFA, check “Activity report addressed by the secretary-general to 1954 Congress”.  Interview with Paulo Godoy (2004– 2005).

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?

15

forty years later, Godoy reconstituted the plot almost, explaining the reasons for his refusal: […] I would not be your friend if I accepted such a role. I am at your disposal … but FIFA secretary? … if I arrived there, a stranger, a native of Latin America […] I would not be your friend if I accepted that. […] You shouldn’t make any staff changes until you get to know the mechanism, the bureaucracy, that kind of thing, and get your administrative program up and running,. […] When it comes to money, Europeans are unpredictable.²⁹

Replacing the secretary-general is not an easy task, and it is not up to the presidency, as Paulo Godoy’s statement seemed to imply. Replacing the SecretaryGeneral requires that a person be nominated and later chosen by the Executive Committee. In this sense, Blatter’s presence in the book is complementary to that of Godoy. Unlike his predecessors, Helmut Käser and Kurt Gassmann, Blatter was not a lawyer. With an undergraduate degree in economics and a background in sales and marketing, he started a promising career at the Longines watch company when he decided to quit in 1975, motivated by an invitation to work on the FIFA Development Committee. Certainly the Development Committee grew in importance with the rise of Havelange. Blatter’s business profile caught Havelange’s attention, who wanted him as secretary general. In order for Käser to be replaced, it would be necessary to secure a political agreement with the Executive Committee. Havelange’s power base was still fragile: the tension with Europe had not been completely settled. First, Havelange invited Hermann Neurberger (from the DFB, Germany) to join the World Cup Organizing Committee. Havelange then asked Neurberger to nominate Blatter as a candidate. Once he had the German nomination, he was finally accepted by the Committee. Over the next seventeen years, Blatter was FIFA Secretary-General.³⁰ In light of the institutional weakness, alluding to 1974 as a dramatic break would be a risk. Ten years later, however, this might have been a possibility. Before the United States World Cup, FIFA would publish another book about its own history: FIFA, the 90 Years. As fate would have it, FIFA’s 90th anniversary happened to coincide with the twentieth anniversary of Havelange’s election. In this book, the authors’ names do not even appear on the back cover. On the front cover, there is just a photo of Havelange. His image is enmeshed with that of the institution. In Blatter’s own words, Havelange is a “monument of FIFA.”³¹ His  Interview with Paulo Godoy (2004– 2005).  Ernesto Carneiro Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).  Ernesto Carneiro Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).

16

Introduction

name is mentioned alongside Jules Rimet, the architect of the World Cup, as one of the living symbols of the institution. Guillermo Cañedo, president of the Mexican Football Federation, wrote the foreword. Cañedo was an old ally of Havelange and one of the creators of his campaign for the FIFA presidency. In Cañedo’s words: Over the past twenty years, what was once a conservative football administration has burgeoned into a dynamic sports institution. Backed by [sic] partnership with television, the world’s major sport has evolved into an economic, social and even political force. New competitions have been devised and development programs for the less privileged associations created. […] All this has only been possible because a dynamic President in the person of João Havelange has been at the helm of FIFA.³²

With these books, the so-called official history of FIFA was put into a nutshell: a narrow, conservative European entity transformed into a global force by Havelange. The place reserved for the 1994 World Cup in this history is certainly special since the soccer world held the United States was as the “final frontier” for FIFA. “American exceptionalism” manifested itself in sports and popular culture as Americans deliberately refusing to practice “European” football. This image was so widespread that FIFA officials saw themselves to be missionaries, converting the last skeptics to the world of football. Once the US was conquered, football or soccer could finally become global. Moreover, the ties between the sport and the entertainment industries were much more conspicuous in the USA than in the rest of the world by 1994. The relationship between television and sport in the USA was unmatched, even by Europe. Therefore, to hold a World Cup in the United States meant to unify the two trademarks by which Havelange’s legacy will be presented: the global and the commercial one. At odds with the “traditionalists” and always teaming up with the “Third World”, the 1994 World Cup is presented as an exclusive product of the president’s willpower. As FIFA, the 90 Years book claimed, USA was his “legacy to football”.³³ America – in the broadest sense – stands as a symbol for Havelange and his era at the helm of FIFA. Havelange, whose family emigrated from Belgium to Brazil to build a new life, embodies both continents in one person. […] His tireless initiative mobilized the Third World to

 Guillermo Canedo, foreword to 90 years of FIFA. 20 years of FIFA Presidency Joao Havelange, by Fédération Internationale de Football Association (Zürich: FIFA, 1994) 9.  For the american context: Nicholas Kiooussis, “Exceptions and exceptionalism. The United States Soccer Football Association in a Global Context, 1950 – 1974” (Master’s thesis., Kinesiology and Health Education, The University of Texas at Austin, 2015). For the World Cup of 1994: Joshua Nadel, “Cup of welcome? Media, marketing, Latinos and the 1994 World Cup,” Political Science (2014): accessed July 13, 2022, doi: 10.5771/9783835326064-298.

Was 1974 a historical turning point in FIFA history?

17

support him and refute the sceptics in traditional football countries who once scorned his ideas. USA ‘94 will be his World Cup, his legacy to football, which he has already steered into the next millennium with his creative imagination and modern ideas.³⁴

Havelange’s final act came four years later. In 1998, twenty-four years after that fateful day in Frankfurt, Havelange decided to retire from FIFA. Joseph Blatter succeeded him, elected thanks to the support of his predecessor. That year, the Paulista Football Federation (FPF) sponsored the last book about the Brazilian leader, Jovem Havelange – A FIFA no Terceiro Milénio (Young Havelange: FIFA in the Third Millennium). Everything suggests that Ermírio de Morais hatched the idea. Morais wrote the foreword. He had also been president of the FPF itself and was a prominent figure in the Brazilian cement industry (Votorantim group). Together with Sílvio Pacheco and Havelange himself, he was chosen to be one of the Brazilian delegates to the Frankfurt Congress in 1974. His name appears in the proceedings, but a family problem kept him from participating. Produced in Brazil, the book was published in several languages (Arabic, Mandarin, Portuguese, Korean, English, Spanish, French, and German). The book itself does not contain much new information when compared to the one published in 1994. The date, 1974, was still upheld as the year of the founding event in the history of FIFA. The noteworthy feature of this book is that like Coaracy’s 1978 book, this publication was also sponsored by the Brazilian business community. Curiously, though, unlike the 1978 publication, the reference Havelange’s alliance with the military dictatorship disappeared completely. Médici, the military president who supported Havelange in 1974, is simply not mentioned in this most recent book. Havelange’s triumph in Frankfurt appeared not as a part of a collective effort, but as someone who triumphed thanks to his own willpower and personal merit. At a time when Brazil’s democratic institutions grew stronger, it was probably better for the Brazilian business community to keep silent about this inconvenient past.³⁵ In 2012, the last book of tributes would be published: João Havelange, o dirigente esportivo do século XX (João Havelange: the great 20th century sports administrator). Sponsored by the Brazilian Olympic Committee (COB) in a bilingual luxury edition (French and Portuguese), this book is part of the so-called “sports decade” in Brazil. Photos and a long interview, interspersed with interruptions by the authors rehash Havelange’s story. It seemed like a good idea to revive

 Fédération Internationale de Football Association, 90 years of FIFA. 20 years of FIFA Presidency Joao Havelange (Zürich: FIFA, 1994), 68 – 69.  Federação Paulista de Futebol, Jovem Havelange: a FIFA no Terceiro Milênio (São Paulo: FPF, 1998).

18

Introduction

the history of his term as head of FIFA in the lead-up to Brazil’s hosting of the World Cup and the Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games. In a sense, Havelange’s early political project anticipated Brazil’s sports diplomacy through mega-events, as well as its BRICS diplomacy. Along with Lula and Paulo Coelho, Havelange was one of the main advocates to promote Brazil at the Congress of the International Olympic Committee to clinch the bid for Rio de Janeiro to host the 2016 Summer Olympic Games. His power was still great within the entity. Here, the last book ends with Havelange’s famous speech at the IOC, where he promised to be alive in 2016 to celebrate his 100th birthday with a large banquet at the Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games. It seemed like a perfect storyline. But, of course, Havelange was not counting on the political crisis that took root in Brazil, especially from 2013 onward. That is when the challenges to his memory and his legacy started. In Rio de Janeiro, discussions about the name of the Rio de Janeiro Olympic Stadium, which had been named after him in 2007 became an issue. After a debate in the City Council of Rio de Janeiro, the stadium earned a new namesake, Nilton Santos, world champion in 1958 and 1963, former left back of the Brazilian National team. At the international level, Havelange resigned from his permanent position as a member of the International Olympic Committee and as FIFA’s honorary president after being engulfed in bribery scandals involving the now-defunct International Sport and Leisure (ISL) sports marketing company. João Havelange and Ricardo Teixeira had been accused of receiving kickbacks on the contracts between ISL and FIFA. The convictions of Havelange and Teixeira were followed by the imprisonment of CONCACAF and CONMEBOL leaders by the US courts, which ultimately led to Joseph Blatter’s resignation. In February 2016, Gianni Infantino would become the ninth chairman of FIFA. Less than six months later, Havelange passed away amidst the celebration of the Olympic Games. He was fully aware of his actions, although since 2012 he was no longer fit to swim his usual two thousand meters. The press coverage was reserved. Some obituaries were scattered around the main newspapers in the country. The Fluminense Futebol Clube declared official mourning. A seventhday Requiem Mass was celebrated at the Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF). FIFA lamented his death on its website, and nothing more. For a historian, now looks like the appropriate time to get back to where everything started.

Football and Latin America’s Cold War: a state of the play

19

Football and Latin America’s Cold War: a state of the play Football politics itself was long considered safe from the elements of Cold War politics.³⁶ Even if many historians had conducted in-depth studies on the relations between the Cold War and sports politics, football and FIFA politics were rarely considered a focal point of analysis. Of the sixteen articles in the book edited by Stephen Wagg and David L. Andrews, Sports and Cold War (2007), only one mentioned football directly.³⁷ Since the United States had no interest in soccer, it was hard to connect the world’s most popular sport to the dynamics of the conflict. Nevertheless, the history of Cold War “is not what it once was” and football’s role in it must also be reevaluated.³⁸ As Odd Arne Westad pointed out, the debates on Cold War History centered excessively on the origins of the conflict. As is well-known, US-Soviet Union rivalry began during the post-war settlement of Europe (1945 – 1956), and only after that spread to Asia and the Middle East, then to Latin America, and finally to Africa. Therefore, by focusing on the origins of the conflict, historians also tend to adopt a Euro-American perspective. As Odd Westad argues, the Cold War should not be viewed simply as a conflict between two “national states” or superpowers but rather as a historical moment of circulating a series of ideologies that shaped the most distinctive spaces of social life. Over the last decade, and especially after the publication of Westad’s Global Cold War (2005), it is possible to observe an inflection point in these main narratives of the Cold War. This shift not only broadened the chronological period analyzed, but it also changed the way historians approach the Cold War itself.³⁹ Like football, Latin American history has often been absent from historical narratives about the Cold War. Even when it was evoked, historians tended to perceive it as a footnote that merely mirrored US internal politics and tensions. In general, Latin America’s own conflicts were perceived as a mere reflex of the

 Robert Elderman, “The Football of Europe in the Early Cold War” (paper presented at Soccer as a Global Phenomenon, Harvard University. April 2016.) See also, Robert Elderman and Christopher Young, The Whole World Was Watching: Sport in the Cold War (Stanford University Press, 2019).  Sports and Cold War (London: Routledge, 2007). See also: H.L. Ditcher and A. L. Jonhs, Diplomatic Games: Sport, Statecraft, and International Relations Since 1945 (University Press of Kentucky, 2014).  Odd Wetad. “Three possible paradigms for Cold War History,” Diplomatic History, 24 (2000): 4.  Tanya Harmer, Allende’s Chile and the Inter-American cold war (North Carolina, University of North Carolina Press, 2011).

20

Introduction

US, thus substantially diminishing LATAM’s role in international dynamics.⁴⁰ Here, the challenge is not only to understand how Cold War politics affected Latin American history but also to grasp how Latin American history shaped the international dynamics of Cold War.⁴¹ The work of Tanya Harmer on Allende’s Chile and the Inter-American ColdWar could be seen as an example of a new trend in the relationship between Latin America history and the Cold War. Tanya Harmer argues that Pinochet’s coup d‘état was much more a part of an inter-American Cold War to determine the future of the continent. Much more the result of a regional contest between Cuba, Chile, the United States, and Brazil than by an international struggle between soviets and Americans. Recently, Gianfranco Caterina demonstrated the inadequacy of the concept of bipolarism for understanding Brazil-Soviet relations, by showing that the anticommunist sentiment in Brazil has much more to do with the Cuban Revolution than a fear of the Soviet Union itself.⁴² One can gain an alternative view of the role of Latin American history in the Cold War by looking at what Gilbert Joseph called “contact zones.”⁴³ According to Joseph, one of the main issues in writing the history of Latin America’s Cold War was an excessive reassessment in terms of the imperatives of economic policy and state-nation politicism which often marginalized human subjects and ignored their political agency. As Joseph states, we must bear in mind that “power does not flow from the policies and the intervention of states; it also works through language and symbolic systems that manifests itself in identities and everyday practices”.⁴⁴ Modern societies, sports and international games are privileged zones for cultural creativity that permit the articulation of languages and practices that

 Vanni Pettinà and José Antonio Sánchez Román, “Beyond US hegemony: the shaping of the Cold War in Latin America,” Culture & History Digital Journal 4.1 (2015): 1. Aldo Marchesi, “Escribiendo la Guerra Fría latinoamericana: entre el ‘Sur local’ y el ‘Norte global’,” Estudos Históricos 30 (2017): 187.  Matthew Brown, “The Global History of Latin America,” Journal of Global History, 10 (2015): 365. doi: 10.1017/S1740022815000182.  Harmer, Tanya Harmer, Allende’s Chile and the Inter-American cold war (North Carolina, University of North Carolina Press, 2011). Gianfranco Caterina, “Um grande oceano: Brasil e União Soviética atravessando a Guerra Fria (1947– 1985)” (PhD diss., FGV/CPDOC, 2019).  Gilbert M. Josep, “What we now know and should know: bringing Latin America more meaningfully into Cold War studies,” in In from the Cold, ed. Gilbert M. Josep (Duke University Press, 2008).  Josep, “What we now know and should know,” p. 9.

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can challenge official and public discourses.⁴⁵ João Havelange’s triumph at FIFA is an example of Joseph’s contact zones. Havelange’s election is seen by the literature as a result of the general crisis that affected FIFA in the sixties as many authors have emphasized the role of international issues inside the organization: the re-affiliation of China, apartheid in South Africa, decolonization, deep-rooted competition between South America and Europe etc. It is possible to consider that this is a correct yet incomplete explanation since it neither seriously considers the connections built by Havelange, nor the many new arrangements established in Latin America let alone the history of Brazil itself. When I started to write this book back in 2015, Andrew Kirkendall wrote an essay reviewing the state of the field of Cold War Latin America, where he noted that the literature on sports was scarce. He further predicted: “that soon good work will be done on sports and the Cold War in Latin America.”⁴⁶ As pointed out by Heather Ditcher, the field of sports as diplomacy has grown substantially in recent years leading to a diplomatic turn in the studies on sports.⁴⁷ This turn especially impacted studies focused on the relationship between sports and the Cold War. Vonnard and Quin note that the dominant literature on this relationship followed a model that limits sports to the political instrument of the State.⁴⁸ One of the indirect effects of this model is that it neglects the role of feelings in international relations, a field on the rise in recent years. National sentiments and stereotypes have an impact on political decision-making, and therefore ought to be included in the analysis of these relations. The effect that reducing sports to a political tool has is that of overestimating the rationality and intention of political actors, in addition to bolstering a view of international relations focused on the State.⁴⁹

 Eduardo P. Archetti, Masculinities: Football, Polo and the Tango in Argentina (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1999).  Andrew J. Kirkendall, “Cold War Latin America: the state of the field,” H-Diplo essay 119 (2014): 1.  Heather L. Dichter, “The diplomatic turn: The new relationship between sport and politics” The International Journal of the History of Sport 38 (2021): 247. J. Simon Rofe, “Sport and diplomacy: A global diplomacy framework,” Diplomacy & statecraft 27 (2016): 212.  Philippe Vonnard, Nicola Sbetti, and Grégory Quin, “Divided but not disconnected: studying a new paradigm for a history of sport during Cold War,” in Beyond Boycotts: Sport during the Cold War in Europe, ed. Philippe Vonnard, Nicola Sbetti, and Grégory Quin, v. 1 (Walter de Gruyter GmbH & Co KG, 2017).  Barbara Keys, “Henry Kissinger: the emotional statesman,” Diplomatic History 35.4 (2011): 587. doi: 10.1111/j.1467-7709.2011.00968.x. Barbara Keys, “Senses and Emotions in the History of Sport,” Journal of Sport History, 40 (2013): 21.

22

Introduction

In this context, it would be interesting to return to a seed planted by Sarah Snyder, can historians of international relations look at fans, players and coaching staff as diplomatic actors? Is it possible to speak of soccer as its own type of diplomacy? Peter Beck’s methodological distinction between soccer diplomacy and soccer-as-diplomacy could be useful here. The former, soccer diplomacy, focuses on how nation states use sport. The latter, soccer-as-diplomacy considers the actors involved in the field of sports—clubs, fans, managers, international sports federations—in creating a diplomacy with a power of its own. “While soccer diplomacy is a relatively well-known area, soccer-as-diplomacy is still an emerging concept.”⁵⁰ This book is part of this “emerging area,” given its consideration of the stakeholders in the sports field as diplomatic actors. The impact of this growing trend on the international stage has barely been felt in Latin America, at least so far. One reason for this, is the inequality in terms of conditions for research: the barriers to access to European and North American archives, for example, as a result of the soaring value of the US-dollar and the euro against South American currencies.. It comes as no surprise that the main studies in this perspective are those by Clement Astruc on the internationalization of Brazilian soccer in the post-war era, Axel Elias Jimenez on Mexico’s international projection in the 1960s, and Brenda Elsey on the emergence of the concept of pan-Americanism, researchers from, no less, France, the United Kingdom and the United States, respectively.⁵¹ This is why most of the studies produced in South America are limited by the borders of their own countries.⁵² As a result, the literature produced in Latin America on this topic overwhelmingly tends to overestimate the role of the State. This perspective needs to be broader to better understand Latin America’s precise role in building up an international sporting order. Phillipe Vonnard

 Sarah B. Snynder, “Playing on the same team: what international and sport historians can learn from each other,” in Soccer diplomacy: international relations and football since 1914, ed. Heather Ditchter (Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 2020).  Clément Astruc, “Beyond the Maracanazo: The World Cup, diplomacy and the international exposure of Brazilian football in 1950,” Soccer & Society 21.8 (2020): 861. doi: 10.1080/ 14660970.2020.1793622. ELSEY, Brenda Elsey, “Cultural Ambassadorship and the Pan-American Games of the 1950s,” The International Journal of the History of Sport 33 (2016): 105. Elías Jiménez, “The 1968 Olympic Games: Conflicting Forms of Citizenship and Nation Building in Mexico City,” Mexican Studies/Estudios Mexicanos 38.1 (2022): 86. doi: 10.1525/msem.2022.38.1.86. Elías Jiménez, Mexico City’s Olympic Games: Citizenship and Nation Building, 1963-1968 (Springer International Publishing, 2021).  Lívia Gonçalves Magalhães, Ditadura e futebol: O Brasil e a Copa do Mundo de 1970 Polhis 5 (2012).

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and Gregory Quin showed how South American soccer was used as a benchmark and model for creating UEFA. In the post-war era, FIFA practically depended on CONMEBOL for survival, and the European confederation model is squarely inspired on the South American regional model. Not only did Europeans at the time admire the South American practice of soccer, but also their management model. Along these lines Sotomayor and Torres organized collections on Latin America’s role in globalizing the concept of Olimpismo, or the Olympic Movement in LATAM.⁵³ They show how, at least in the field of sports, Latin America was far from being a passive agent in the international arena and decisively contributed to building a international sports order. The rise of João Havelange to the FIFA presidency was one of the decisive moments that brings the issues mentioned above to the fore. Havelange’s election precisely coincided with a wave of euphoria spreading overBrazil. The country’s annual GNP was a robust 10 % and optimism prevailed in Brazilian cities; it was the so-called Brazilian Miracle. Many economic analysts thought Brazil was the rising economic power of the seventies. In their view it seemed that between 1969 and 1974 Brazil had found a safe road to becoming a first world country. Those years are also considered to the harshest times in the Brazilian military regime since the government started to invest heavily in a more repressive apparatus, torture became a common practice, and many civil rights were abolished. Therefore, the study of Havelange’s election also must be seen as a contribution to the history of that period. Havelange was sponsored by the Brazilian government and also by important segments of Brazilian civil society. The networks built by him and his connections within the Brazilian nation-state are the focal points of this study. In terms of foreign policy, together with Cuba, Brazil was the only Latin American country to estabilsh a foreign policy specifically for Africa. Brazil’s diplomacy expanded to Africa at the same time that Havelange searched for allies in the different countries of the continent. Finally, Havelange‘s triumph is an example of the role ideology played during the Cold War. Between 1971 and 1974, Havelange’s campaign tried to sell the image of Brazil as a country that should be presented as a development model, an effective third way (neither socialist nor capitalist) to achieve economic growth. In fact, just as Havelange had tried to publicize, Brazil’s success on the football field mirrored its economic success. This research got started in 2015 and represents four years of work consulting eleven archives: Biblioteca Nacional do Brasil (National Library of Brazil),

 Antonio Sotomayor and César R. Torres, Olimpismo: The Olympic Movement in the Making of Latin America and the Caribbean (University of Arkansas Press, 2020).

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Introduction

Brazilian Olympic Committee Library, Walther Salles Archive, International Olympic Committee Archive, FIFA Institutional Archives, FIFA Library, Royal Society Archives, National Archives (London, United Kingdom), National Football Museum (Preston, UK), and Itamaraty Historical Archive (Rio de Janeiro and Brasília). At each of these archives, attempts were made to collect sources of a different nature so that the history of the 1974 FIFA election could be reconstructed as best possible. Of course, these journalistic narratives are also part of this thesis, but they are confronted with sources of a different nature, such as diplomatic sources, personal correspondence, institutional material from the football federations, iconographic sources, among others. In addition to the written sources, it is worth highlighting the importance of some interviews conducted by the researcher for this book. The researcher personally interviewed João Havelange himself in 2011, Iuri Kler, Havelange’s representative in Moscow, Antônio Carlos de Almeida Braga, a personal friend of Havelange, Reinaldo da Gama, son of businessman José da Gama, and Bellini Cunha, who collaborated with the entrepreneurial campaign for the 1970 World Cup. In addition to these people, it is worth mentioning the use of interviews with Havelange by other researchers. At the Brazilian Football Museum, the interview with Havelange conducted by Carlos Eduardo Sarmento, Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda and Daniela Alfonsi is available for public consultation. Many of these interviews used in the course of the book were conducted by Ernesto Rodrigues, who wrote a biography of João Havelange in 2009. Many characters interviewed by Ernesto had already passed away. The possibility of listening to the interviews was essential to elaborate and build a more complex picture of the 1974 FIFA presidential election.

Structure of the book To tell the story of Havelange’s election to the FIFA presidency, we decided to divide the book into five chapters. Chapter one, English stifness, covers FIFA’s history and historiography in the international context of the 1960s. The paradox is that, although FIFA’s general principles are upheld as being unchangeable and universal rules in the context of the institution, they are subject to the disputes of political agents. One of FIFA’s main points of disagreement in the 1960s revolved around the legal equality of new members, that is, whether new national associations should have the same political weight as the old ones. While the new national associations aspired to greater weight and participation in FIFA’s bureaucratic structure, European powers sought to limit the newcomers’ scope of action. In this context, the

Structure of the book

25

British countries took the lead and made efforts to include, albeit hierarchically, FIFA’s new associations.. Contrary to what is commonly argued, Stanley Rous’s own success is a product of these reforms, thus he should not be seen as a conservative. At the time, FIFA’s monopoly was at stake, threatened by the creation of alternative sports institutions, especially the organization of the Games of the New Emerging Forces (GANEFO) in Indonesia. One of FIFA’s responses to the pressure from newly affiliated countries was the creation of the Technical Development Committee and a greater openness to African and Asian nations. Like “sport,” the notion of development is a category that can often be seen as socially “neutral” or “universal.” And yet, as anthropologist Arturo Escobar showed, the discourse surrounding development was forged at the end of World War II as a way of preserving the ties between the former colonies and Europe, mediated, to a large extent, by international institutions (the UN and its programs are the most salient example). It was no different at FIFA when the creation of the Development Committee implied the tutelage pact between European countries and the newly liberated former colonies. Far from being an element of Brazilian uniqueness, the obsession with development and economic growth is a political product of the Cold War status quo. In Brazil, the established verbiage, a veritable grammar of development, made it possible for João Havelange to build a political project capable of mobilizing Third World countries. This grammar enabled Havelange to connect the elements of Brazil’s history to international issues. This intersection between the national and international begins to be drawn in chapter two and three – The Administrator and A Blond Pelé. Havelange’s rise within Brazilian civil society was what allowed him to build and fashion his candidacy for the FIFA presidency. In this case, the biographical analysis points less to his figure than to the institutions (sports clubs, family networks, etc.) with which he was associated. Havelange’s victory in the 1974 FIFA election was favoredby the triumph of Brazil‘s National Team in 1970. The main point addressed in this chapter is that winning the World Cup was not enough – it was also necessary to convince part of the population that the Brazil team’s victory was the result of Havelange’s managerial skills. It was the Blond Pelé – as defined by Vargas Netto, a sport journalist – whom ought to be praised for the victory in the Mexico World Cup, not Pelé himself and his teammates. In an attempt to be in the limelight, Havelange delivered a speech where he claimed the World Cup victory for a technical-scientific elite capable of guiding Brazil towards economic development. In chapter four, At the heart of Brazilian Miracle, the book follows those who provided Havelange with financial and logistical support. They were both members of civil society (soccer businesspeople, journalists, magnates in the coffee sector or figures connected to investment capital) or state bureaucracy itself (Ita-

26

Introduction

maraty and the Ministry of Education). Elias Zaccour, a football agent, is a key figure in the chapter: he was the one who introduced Havelange to African Football officials. Zaccour’s well-established networks were crucial for Havelange to win the election. Havelange extended invitations to many African Football Confederation officials to visit Brazil during the Independence Cup held in 1972 so that they could admire the Brazilian economic development in persona. The book ends with chapter five, The world we had lost?, with a discussion about the day João Havelange was voted into the FIFA presidency: after all, who were his allies? Why did they support his bid? In this regard, the chapter analyzes the voting map, including a description of which countries that supported or opposed Havelange. The analysis of the voting map provides researchers to rely on more than memories of Havelange’s election to the FIFA presidency. In retrospect, his election boiled down to a battle between a newly decolonized South, and a Eurocentric North. Even so, the analysis of the map provides a glimpse of the extent to which the regional disputes during the Cold War favored his victory. Thus, it is important to observe what kind of impact the different regional contexts had on his election. In this respect, the context of the first half of the 1970s was particularly favorable for Havelange. The chapter ends by connecting the episodes of the Carnation Revolution in Portugal, the return of China to the United Nations, and the civil-military coup in Chile to the electoral chessboard at FIFA.

Chapter 1 English stiffness: a political history of FIFA during the long sixties, 1959 – 1971 […] we have always been open-hearted. […] but if you go back fifty years, England, the English, were stiff. João Havelange¹

A political approach to FIFA history The 1960s are presented as a blank slate in FIFA’s official memory.² A good starting point to reflect on this silence can be FIFA’s own official film, United Passions, a institutional historical novel. The film is divided into sections starting with FIFA’s foundation (1904), then addresses the work of Jules Rimet in creating the World Cup (1930), followed by FIFA’s uncertain survival during World War II (1939 – 1945), and from there skips abruptly to Havelange’s election in 1974. The narrative omits the time between Jules Rimet’s retirement and Havelange’s rise. In 1998, Havelange’s last year as FIFA president, the FIFA newsletter described the 1960s as the pre-João Havelange era. The suffix pre- made it clear that what had occurred then was irrelevant, and merely served to clear the field for the triumphant arrival of the Brazilian leader. Reflecting upon silence implies considering the production of memory as being related to the political disputes of the present time. Moreover, the official story is coercively presented as the only one possible. As a counterpoint, this chapter aims at brushing FIFA’s history against the grain – to quote Walter Benjamin – by examining the political dispute over the entity and of sports institutions in the 1960s. As a result, the historian will not only focus on the political and economic conditions that made

 João Havelange, interviewed by the author (Rio de Janeiro, 2011).  There are exceptions in terms of academic field, especially the works of Taylor M., “England and the “Continent Reconsidered (1920 – 1960),” in Building Europe with the Ball Turning Points in the Europeanization of Football (1914 – 1989) ed. Philippe Vonnard and Grégory Quin (Oxford: Peter Lang, 2016). Dietschy, Paul. “Making football global? FIFA, Europe, and the non-European football world, 1912– 74,” Journal of Global History 8.2 (2013): 279. Philippe Vonnard, L’Europe dans le monde du football. Genèse et formation de l’UEFA (1930 – 1960) (Bruxelles: Peter Lang, 2018). Grégory Quin, “La reconstruction de la Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA) après la Seconde Guerre mondiale (1944– 1950),” Staps 4 (2014): 21. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-006

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Havelange’s rise possible, but also attempt to examine the internal logic of the competing projects that were vanquished.³ Certainly, one cannot compare the official memory with the academic literature produced on the subject. Nevertheless, there are few works about FIFA in the 1960s, most of which make the mistake of portraying this period as one of stagnation.⁴ In this regard, the debate gravitates around the meanings attributed to the political project of Stanley Ford Rous (FIFA president from 1961– 1974). In an equally teleological key, the analysis would suggest that Rous’s mistakes would have led to Havelange’s rise to the FIFA presidency. Following this reasoning Rous’s management would have been resistant to both the commercialization and the “excessive politicization” of FIFA. This vision is summarized in the way David Goldblatt characterized Stanley Rous: “an anachronism in his own lifetime”.⁵ Sociologist Paul Darby made similar observations to Goldblatt’s: “Rous’ position can be seen as evidence of a certain political naiveté and a misreading of the complex manner in which sport and politics interact.”⁶ Rous was brought up in a racist environment and did not see the issue of apartheid in South Africa as a serious problem. This, however, was not enough to characterize him as anachronistic, much less as naive. The idea that racism and colonialism belong to a distant past that deconstructed with the colonial world is the mistake in the analysis. Racism is a phenomenon of contemporary times, and its marks on global society persist and are highlighted in political action on a daily basis. Here, the task at hand is to connect Stanley Rous’ political project and agency to his own lifetime. Stanley Rous’s own politics reveal the distance between this portrait and his agency. In his speech to the Olympic Congress in 1972 he even predicted that the greatest danger for sport “was to limit itself to the present,” and finished by criticizing the modus operandi of the International Olympic Committee. He said that it was an “unrealistic” way of dealing with both the politics and the commercial

 Michael Lowy, Walter Benjamin: aviso de incêndio, uma leitura das teses “Sobre o Conceito de História” (Rio de Janeiro: Boitempo, 2015).  Alan Tomlinson, “The supreme leader sails on: Leadership, Ethics, and governance in FIFA,” Sport in Society 17 (2014): 1155, accessed March 9, 2022, doi: 10.1080/17430437.2013.856590. Paul Darby, “Stanley Rous‘s own goal: football politics, South Africa and the contest for the FIFA presidency in 1974,” Soccer & Society 9 (2008): 259, accessed March 9, 2022, doi: 10.1080/ 14660970701811172.  David Goldblatt, The Ball is round: a global history of football (London: Penguin Books, 2007), 517.  Paul Darby, Africa, Football and FIFA: political, colonialism and resistance (London: Frank Cass, 2002), 71.

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value of the games.⁷ It is also telling that the Stanley Rous’ contemporaries’ descriptions of him were very different from those of the historians’ caricatures. In 1952, one journalist delivered praise for him: “Since the departure of Frederick Wall, revolutionary changes have been made to the legislative and policy frameworks of soccer. Detected in all these changes is the hand of Rous, a man of international vision and realistic approach.”⁸ Both inside and outside FIFA, two distinct political projects for sporting institutions emerged in the 1960s. Rous’s presidency represents what might be called a tutelary pact – a hierarchical alliance among representatives of the European soccer associations and the emerging sectors of world soccer. Rous’s alliances crisscrossed the map of the British Empire: the United States, Australia, British Africa, Caribbean nations, India, and especially Southeast Asia. Rous was the best-known sports politician internationally, even before he became president of FIFA. A deft politician, he based his decision-making on dialogue with his supporters. In practice, the tutelary pact was far from revolutionary, but it cannot be characterized as being the antithesis of institutional change. It is worth noting that the nature of this pact was designed a priori, but rather was part and parcel of the institutional dynamics themselves. How much, and what kind of power was granted – not to mention to whom – depended on the correlation of political forces within the association. While Rous excelled at making ties around the globe, he never commanded unanimity on his own continent. Radicalized sectors saw the very existence of a pact as being excessive. They, in turn, did not accept the granting of political and economic resources to associations outside of Europe. Criticism from other groups was more pragmatic. In this case, the target was Rous himself, and what these constituents wanted was to control FIFA on their own terms. The opposite of the tutelary pact was institutional revolution. Threats to break with FIFA were always on the agenda, but never as much as in the 1960s. In this sense, the other project that, despite being quickly defeated, changed the political landscape of international sports institutions was the creation and staging of the Games of the New Emerging Forces (GANEFO) in 1963. GANEFO represented the antithesis of the tutelary pact: by virtue of its ephemeral quality the organization of these games upended the institutional

 Stanley Rous, The international Olympic Committee, the International Federations, and the National Olympic Committees in “Texts and speeches on football”, IOC Archives, FIFA, Lausanne, DRMFOOTB/022, 1973-1976.  Football Association, “Sir Stanley Rous”, by a Special Correspondent, in The History of the Football Association, Geoffrey Green (London: The Naldrett Press, 1953). Taylor M., “England and the Continent Reconsidered (1920 – 1960)”.

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principles of international sports federations. Masterminded by Indonesian leaders and sponsored by the Chinese government, this movement proposed a radical break with the organizational structure of international sports institutions. This revolutionary experiment was enough to change the center of gravity of power within FIFA and the International Olympic Committee. GANEFO’s strength lay in how it overturned the values espoused by hegemonic sports institutions. The idea of qualifying the 1960s as “long” seems to be well accepted in the historiography. It is part of a debate that sees the 1960s as a key moment of cultural, political, and socioeconomic transformations, many of which began as early as the 1950s and continued into the early 1970s.⁹ To paraphrase Marwick, international society of the 1960s was permeated by new ideas.¹⁰ In this vein, theorist Frederic Jameson located the origin of the 1960s in the Cuban revolution of 1959 and the end of the decolonization processes in British and French Africa (1960 – 1964). In Jameson’s view, these processes constitute the birth of the idea of the “Third World,” which can be seen as a benchmark of the 1960s. These international movements had an impact on the civil societies of several countries around the world, especially that of the United States with the rise of the Black and feminist movements and the global uprisings of May 1968. In Jameson’s view, this decade came to an end with the economic crisis of 1973, caused by the first oil price shock that year.¹¹ This crisis rebalanced world markets and led the political movements to step back, thus giving rise to a conservative counteroffensive. When it comes to understanding “the long 1960s” in sports institutions the weight of Chinese foreign policy is key. Considering this long decade as a period of its own accounts for the movements of Chinese foreign policy, albeit not exclusively. When looking at it through this prism, the period starts in 1958, which represents the withdrawal of the All-China Sports Federation from FIFA. In 1971, the last year of this period, China returned to the UN, a move that also had many repercussions in the history of international sports institutions themselves. The return to the UN meant a change in China’s stance in the international arena and led to the rapprochement of China’s national sports associations with the world sports federations. In this respect, the Chinese government used sports to rebuild bridges with developing countries. The latter year,

 Christopher Kalter, The Discovery of the Third World: Decolonization and the rise of the new left in France, c. 1950 – 1976 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016).  Arthur Marwick, “The Cultural Revolution of the Long Sixties: Voices of reaction, protest and permeation,” The International History Review 4 (2005): 780.  Frederic Jameson, “Periodizando os anos 1960,” in Pós-modernismo e política, ed. Heloisa Buarque de Hollanda (Rio de Janeiro: Rocco, 1992).

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1971, also marks the Maoist adherence to the Third World doctrine. From that point forward the leaders of the Chinese Communist Party pivoted from introducing themselves in the international public arena as part of a socialist “Second World” to an integral part of the countries of the “Third World.”¹² In this vein, political and economic discussions that marked the Cold War in the 1960s were in the mix of FIFA’s institutional relations. One of the most striking features of the Cold War was the creation of an “international consensus” around the concept of development.¹³ In this sense, development became a belief, a goal to which most countries desired to achieve. Debates took were held on the best ways to achieve development, but the use of the term itself was never questioned.¹⁴ One year after GANEFO, the FIFA Development Committee was created in 1964 out of close connection to international debate.¹⁵ This forum was a space for contact between the Afro-Asian bloc and the European powers. Arturo Escobar even observed that such international aid programs were the way the former metropoles managed to preserve their ties with their former colonies, but under a new guise.¹⁶ By circulating technical knowledge FIFA sought to standardize the rules of association soccer in addition to reducing the soccer gap between countries, thereby raising the bar for the game worldwide. Nonetheless, the map of sports development could not be superimposed on the economic order. Brazil and South America, despite being considered underdeveloped from an economic perspective, were anything but when viewed from the logic of soccer. Brazil, in particular, was toe-to-toe with England, Germany and Italy in joining the first team of international soccer nations. After examining the two competing political projects of the 1960s, this chapter ends shows how the Brazilian-South American political project emerged to win over FIFA. It is worth saying that this project developed out of contact with a diversity of players in the international sports field, historical circumstances and chance. The 1966 World Cup acted as an element of sentimental cohesion among the

 Chen Jian, “China, the Third World and the Cold War,” in The Cold War and the Third World, comp. Robert McMahon (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013).  David Engerman, “The romance of development and the new histories of Cold War,” Diplomatic History 28 (2003): 23, accessed March 9, 2022, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24914770.  Gilbert Rist, The history of development: From western origins to global Faith (New York: Zed Books, 2014).  Jörg Krieger, “The sole anti-democratic federation in the entire Olympic Movement. Early International Association of Athletics Federation Development Initiatives Between Commercialization and Democratization, 1974– 1984,” The International Journal of the History of Sport 33 (2016): 1341, accessed March 9, 2022, doi: 10.1080/09523367.2017.1279150.  Arturo Escobar, Encountering development: the making and the unmaking of the Third World (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001).

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leaders of the South American and Afro-Asian blocs, catalyzing their rupture with the European bloc. The emotions awaken by the World Cup created a favorable environment for the creation of a South American bloc. Moreover, although they kept to the margins of the Afro-Asian bloc, in FIFA at least, the defeat of the Latin American countries in the 1966 World Cup ended up uniting the “colonized peoples” against the “imperialist order”. In the long 1960s, a specter hung around sporting institutions – the specter of Bandung. The European powers united to defeat it: the sports federations and the IOC, the radicals in Belgium, the Latin powers of Italy and Spain, and the forces of the British Empire. What the sports leaders feared was for the decolonization processes to go rogue and deal a blow to the legal-institutional nature of sports organizations. This feeling of fear worked as the driving force of history. In a letter addressed to IOC president Avery Brundage, an American, Lord David Burghley, better known as the Marquis of Exeter, expressed the anguish of this transformational time: “What is happening runs counter to our principles. Clearly, we must take firm action for amateur sport as we understand it to survive.”¹⁷ The Marquis’ sense of certainty was vanishing in thin air. They had to react. President of the IAAF (International Amateur Athletics Federation) between 1946 and 1976, Lord David Burghley was one of the key figures in the history of the post-World War II sports movement.¹⁸ In 1933, Burghley was elected a member of the IOC and very quickly became an influential figure in the organization. His persona seemed to accumulate the virtues of an amateur sportsman as idealized by Pierre de Coubertin: of noble origin, educated at Cambridge and the elite schools of Switzerland, a winning profile and a staunch champion of the ideals of amateurism and of sport as an end in itself.¹⁹ The gold medalist at the 1928 Olympic Games in the 400-meter hurdles, Burghley – like Stanley Rous – seemed to have a special eye for the former British colonies. Governor of Bermuda from 1943 to 1945, the Marquess of Exeter’s performance as an imperial administrator earned him the title of Lord, and David Burghley was chair-

 David Burghley, Correspondance to Avery Brundage (November 29, 1963). One letter, IOC Archives.  See Kevin Jefferys, “Lord Burghley, Chariots of Fire and the Gentleman amateur in British Athletics,” Sport in Society 33 (2013): 445.  Jefferys, “Lord Burghley, Chariots of Fire and the Gentleman amateur in British Athletics,” 445.

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man of the organizing committee for the 1948 London Olympics, a key moment in the postwar reconfiguration of the British Empire.²⁰ Alongside cricket and rugby,²¹ athletics and soccer were the most popular sports in African and Asian countries. Not surprisingly, the British controlled these international federations, and did so until the early 1970s. Understanding the reasons behind this British dominance in sports is a question raised by the historiography.²² In the view of Pascal Charitas, the answer must be sought in the way the British colonies were administered and managed, and in its fundamental contrast to the French model of colonization.²³ In the French colonies, the colonists had a monopoly on power, and the Africanization of bureaucratic cadres happened at a relatively later stage, as did the establishment of an overseas French-speaking community, inspired by the British Commonwealth, known as the Communauté Franco-Africaine, which only dates back to 1958. In the British case, colonial power was delegated to local staff on the basis of what the literature calls an associanist model.²⁴ Moreover, as Charitas writes, “what makes the British unique lies in their ability to very quickly understand the problems of colonization and separate them through international organizations such as Commonwealth.”²⁵ As early as 1944, the constitution of the Commonwealth enabled the British to establish an Anglophile space in the international arena, even though the British Empire was in the process of dissolution.²⁶ Early on, the Commonwealth also made it possible to preserve the ties built within imperial civil society. In the case of international sports politics, where the personal

 Pascal Charitas, “Imperialism in the Olympics of the Colonization in the Postcolonization: Africa into the International Olympic Committee, 1910 – 1965,” The International Journal of the History of the Sport 7 (2015): 909, doi:10.1080/09523367.2015.1027153.  Phillipe Dine, French rugby football: a cultural history (Oxford: Berg, 2001); Derek Birley, A social history of cricket (London: Aurum Press, 1999).  Peter Beck, Scoring for Britain: International Football and International Politics, 1900 – 1939 (London: Routledge, 1999), for instance, raised the issue of the relationship between Europe and United Kingdom before the World War II.  Pascal Charitas, “L’Afrique au mouvement olympique: Enjeux, strategies et influences de la France dans l’internalisation du sport africain (1944– 1946)” (Phd diss., Université Paris-Sud, 1966), 703.  Louis William Roger, The ends of British Imperialism: The scramble for Empire, Suez and Decolonization (London, IB: Tauris, 2006).  Charitas, “Imperialism in the Olympics of the Colonization in the Postcolonization,”, 703.  The origins of the Commonwealth date back to the end of the 19th century, but it became an instrument of English diplomacy with the decolonization processes. After the decolonization of India in 1947, the country becomes part of the Commonwealth. Sport played a central role in this project to maintain British rule. The Commonwealth Games replaced the British Empire Games in 1954, and became the most visible form of British influence in these countries.

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relationships play a major role, the Commonwealth gave the British a comparative advantage. Throughout the decade, the contradictions between the sporting institutions – dominated by the European world – and the decolonization processes sharpened. In the words of Jeremi Suri, the crisis of the 1960s is expressed in the perception that “a broad spectrum of citizens criticized not only their leaders’ competence, but also their values.”²⁷ In the case of sports institutions, these values pretend to be universal. The assumption that sports and politics did not mix was intended to cover, when it came to monopolistic sports associations, every country in the world. Not long before, sports institutions seemed consolidated. In 1951, admitting the Soviet Union to these institutions was the necessary step towards their triumph. In theory, the incorporation of the Soviet Union into the Olympic movement meant that rival initiatives such as the Workers’ Olympiad would not be financed by a superpower.²⁸ The 1950s are characterized by a certain sense of stability, progress, and political-economic growth, which was suddenly shattered in 1958. According to James Hershberg’s suggestion for periodization, this year represents the opening act of the Cold War’s “crisis years,” which would last until 1963 with the Cuban missile crisis.²⁹ In 1958, the Taiwan Strait crisis³⁰ had an immediate effect on the sports monopolies of FIFA and the IOC. After a failed attempt at détente between China and Taiwan between 1955 and 1957, Mao Zedong decided to go on the offensive, changing the foreign policy of “peaceful coexistence.” After the 1949 revolution, Mao Zedong believed in the mobilization of the masses as a necessary step in the consolidation of the Chinese revolution, seen as a continuous movement. Success in the transition from socialism to communism required that the socialist revolution be permanent and underpinned by the broad mobilization of the masses. The idea of a continuous revolution is the basis of the “Great Leap Forward” policy. In the short run, the result of the “Great Leap Forward” was the broad politicization of the various spheres of social life of the Chi Jeremi Suri, “Counter cultures: the rebellion against the Cold War order, 1965 – 1975”, in The Cambridge History of Cold War, ed. Odd Arne Westad and Melvyin Leffler (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).  James Riordan, “The worker sports movement,” in The International Politics of Sport in the Twentieth Century (Routledge: 2002).  James G. Hershberg, “The crisis years 1958 – 1963,” in Reviewing the Cold War: Approaches, interpretations, theory, ed. Odd Arne Westad (London: Frank Cass, 1998), 303.  In 1958, Mao Zedong decided to launch a bomb attack to Jinmen Island. The bombing resulted in the deaths of around 450 Chinese and 404 Taiwanese soldiers. Due to the mutual defense treaties signed by Taiwan and the United States, tensions rose and the possibility of American intervention in the region was feared.

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nese state. Taiwan took on the role of the Chinese counterpoint, the in-house enemy as an internal mobilization of Chinese civil society. No reconciliation possible is possible when it comes to this kind of enemy.³¹ China and Taiwan coexisted peacefully in the Olympic movement and in the international sports federations between 1953 and 1958. In FIFA meetings, the Chinese delegates did not usually mince words when addressing the President and the Executive Committee. Chinese belligerence certainly created a climate of animosity and blocked any possibility of compromise, leading to a crisis that would culminate in China’s withdrawal from the Olympic movement altogether.³² The problem invariably raised issues surrounding territorial jurisdiction. FIFA Article I stated that only one national association should be accepted per country.³³ From the perspective of the government of Communist China, Taiwan was merely a rebellious province that would sooner or later be annexed to the mainland. Taiwan had a similar attitude: they did not recognize the legitimacy of the Communist government. The problem was that both claimed to control soccer throughout China – a requirement for FIFA membership – in their respective statutes submitted to the organization.³⁴ In this regard, it is worth noting that the problem of territorial jurisdiction was not unique to China/Taiwan and was therefore far from unavoidable. During the Cold War period, a good number of nation states were split in two. This was the case with the two Koreas, the two Germanies, and the two Vietnams. None accepted and/or recognized the legitimacy of the other’s existence. All these countries were part of FIFA. In practice, what set the Chinese case apart from the others was the Chinese delegates’ hostile rhetoric. At the 1958 FIFA Congress, the Chinese delegates accused English President Arthur Drewry of being a “lackey of imperialism, who followed American orders.”³⁵ This statement came together with the Chinese Football Association’s declaration of its withdrawal from FIFA. Mediated by the Soviet Union through FIFA vice-president Vladimir Granatkin, an attempt was also made to establish a “good neighbor sports policy”

 Chen Jian, Mao’s China and the Cold War (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2001).  Gabriel Bernasconi, La longue marche Olympique chinoise: Mao 1949 – JO 2008 – Six Décennies de Diplomatie Sportive (Paris: Atlantica, 2008).  FIFA Statutes. Zürich, 1973.  Heidrun Homburg, “FIFA and the Chinese Question, 1954– 1980: an Exercise of the Statutes,” Historical Social Research 1 (2006): 69, accessed March 9, 2022, doi: 10.12759/ hsr.31.2006.1.69-72.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “FIFA Ordinary Congress,” Minutes […], (Estocolmo: 1958). FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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with the Communist China Football Association, allowing it to play matches with other FIFA members. In 1972, Käser, recalling the negotiations, told Stanley Rous that he had allowed – between 1958 and 1960 – the Chinese national team to play matches with “Yugoslavia, the Soviet Union, Albania, and Egypt.”³⁶ At the request of the Executive Committee, Granaktin even traveled to China in search of a solution, but he was unable to make much headway.³⁷ The Chinese, on the other hand, were unresponsive to FIFA’s offers. In late 1958, FIFA staffers tried to establish correspondence with China, requesting that they be formally excluded, following the legal ritual. The Chinese did not want to comply even with the legal formalities, and the letters were returned to FIFA sealed. This even led to debates within the Executive Committee. Some believed that because China had not taken the necessary steps for disaffiliation, it should remain a member.³⁸ The nonresponse from the Chinese ought to be understood as a symbolic denial of the power of sporting institutions. From that point forward the Chinese would no longer recognize the legitimacy of sporting institutions in regulating world sport. With the impending decolonization of Africa and Asia, the fear was that other national associations might follow suit and not join FIFA and the IOC. Slightly earlier, in 1955, the year of the Bandung conference, former IOC president, Swedish industrialist Sigfried Edström wrote to Avery Brundage, then president, circumscribing the problem and its nature: The liberation of the colored countries, who have more or less been under the yoke of the western powers such as India, Pakistan, Dutch Indies, Algeria, Indo China etc. is continuing. These colored people in Asia and Africa are now uniting themselves not only to take care of their own affairs but also trying to influence and perhaps lead the world. At the great congress in Bandung on Java, which is going on just now, 29 colored countries are taking part. They will not be aggressive now, but in a few years they will have more courage, and we Western countries can fear difficulties. It is therefore highly desirable that the Western countries organize themselves to defend their common interests. Thus, we will have two great parts of the world.³⁹

 Helmut Käser, Correspondence addressed to Stanley Rous (Zürich: January 12, 1972). One letter, FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Emergency Committee Meeting,” Minutes […], (Barcelona: January 6, 1959). FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Executive Committee Meeting,” Minutes […], (April, 1959). Notes to the Agenda, p.10, FIFA Archives, Zürich.  J. S. Erdeström, Correspondence addressed to Avery Brundage (Lausanne: April 22, 1955). Avery Brundage, Box 42-43, IOC Archives, Lausanne.

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In general terms, the Bandung conference – mentioned by Erdström – marked the birth of the idea of an Afro-Asian bloc and the existence of a “Third World” in the international arena.⁴⁰ To make free use of Vijay Prashad’s image, the Third World was never a place, but rather a design of diplomatic intervention on an international scale.⁴¹ Meeting at the Bandung Conference, these countries had agreed to broad principles, many of which had already appeared in the 1944 Charter of the United Nations, such as the right to self-determination of peoples, mutual economic co-operation, and criticism of imperialism.⁴² What is certain is that China’s withdrawal from the sporting institutions provided an opportunity for Third World countries to be – as Erdström prophesied – “more aggressive.” Holding the GANEFO in 1963 was the fruit of this offensive. In 1955, Indonesian leader Sukarno had been one of the masterminds of the Bandung Conference. Along with Nasser of Egypt, Marshal Josip Tito of Yugoslavia, and Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, Sukarno was one of the leading figures of the Non-Aligned Movement. Since the early 1960s, the organization of the GANEFO seems to have been on Sukarno’s political agenda, concerned with institutionalizing a sporting event in keeping with the “spirit of Bandung.” The games were to be named the GANEFO. The concept of New Emerging Forces (NEFOs) was opposed to the notion of established forces of the old international order (OLDEFOs). Nevertheless, the concept of new emerging forces should not be seen as synonymous with the concept of the Third World. Sukarno himself was keen to distinguish between “emerging forces” and “emerging countries.” Although not predominant, the emerging forces had a presence even in countries that represented the established order. Therefore, Sukarno invited civil society groups (student movements, trade unions, etc.) that opposed imperialism from

 Christopher Lee, introduction to Making a world after empire: The Bandung Moment and its afterlives (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2010), 15. From a broader perspective, one can mention other key-moments, especially in the immediate postwar moment where Asian, African and Latin American leaders act decisive, like the Bretton-Woods agreement or in the building of a trading order. Check, for instance: FARIAS, Rogério de Souza. Industriais, economistas e diplomatas: o Brasil e as negociações comerciais multilaterais (1946 – 1967). 2012 and HELLEINER, Eric. Forgotten Foundations of Bretton Woods. In: Forgotten Foundations of Bretton Woods. Cornell University Press, 2014.  Vijay Prashad, The Darker Nations: A people history of the Third World (New York: The New Press, 2008), 7.  Dipesh Chakrabarty, “The legacies of Bandung: Decolonization and the Politics of Culture,” in, Making a world after empire: The Bandung Moment and its afterlives, ed. Christopher Lee (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2010).

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countries considered to be developed to take part in the GANEFO.⁴³ Ultimately, Sukarno’s rhetoric emphasized the conflict in international relations: the old world and the new world are in constant political struggle. In this philosophy of history conflict is seen as something inexorable and that will only be settled with the establishment of a new international order.⁴⁴ GANEFO represented part of the intention to produce this new international order. However, its creation was jump started by the sports crisis caused by the 1962 Asian Games, also held in Indonesia.⁴⁵ After the Indonesian government refused to grant visas to athletes from Taiwan and Israel, the IOC retaliated, and excluded Indonesia from the Olympic movement. Unlike the Chinese, who voluntarily withdrew from that institution, the decision to exclude a national Olympic committee was uncommon at that context. Such an extraordinary measure led the Indonesians to fight back and accuse the IOC of acting on behalf of imperialism and international colonialism. In this regard, they accelerated the process for the creation of sporting event and an international organization that could rival the International Olympic Committee in the public arena.⁴⁶ At first, British diplomatic correspondence shows how lightly this endeavor was taken.⁴⁷ However, the Indonesians were expeditious in rallying about 53 countries to participate. Together with the government of China, the Indonesian government pledged to cover all expenses for room, board, and transportation.⁴⁸ The IOC immediately retaliated, however. It did not recognize the games

 Games of the New Emerging Forces, Keynote speech of the President Sukarno in the inauguration of the GANEFO games, in “Documents for the preparation of GANEFO,” (Zürich: November, 1963), FIFA Archives, Indonesian Box, 1963-1964.  Games of the New Emerging Forces, “Keynote speech of the President Sukarno in the inauguration of the GANEFO games,” Documents for the preparation of GANEFO (Zürich: November, 1963). FIFA Archives, Indonesian Box, 1963-1964.  Fan Hong and Rusli Lutan, “The politicization of sport: GANEFO – a case study,” Sport in Society: Cultures, Commerce, Media, Politics 3 (2011): 425, accessed March 5, 2022, doi:10.1080/ 17430430500260503.  Stefan Hubner, “The Fourth Asian Games (Jakarta, 1962) in a Transnational Perspective: Japanese and Indian Reactions to Indonesia’s Political Instrumentalisation of the Games,” The International Journal of the History of Sport (special issue Asia) 29 (2012): 1295, accessed March 5, 2022, doi: 10.1080/09523367.2012.677035.  The British Diplomat at Indonesia wrote back to London: “We might also say that, as Indonesia decision to press ahead with GANEFO is clearly detrimental to the spirit of International Sport, we hope that so little support may be forthcoming that she will be obliged to drop the idea.” S.C.J. S Lord Phillips, Correspondence (London: February 18, 1963). The National Archives, London, UK, “The Ganefo Games – 1963,” FO/361169946.  The countries that joined GANEFO were: Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria, Palestine, Chile, Argentina, Belgium, Burma, Brazil, Bolivia, Bulgaria, Ceylon, Japan, Dominican Republic, East

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as legitimate and declared that any athletes who participated in the games would be suspended by their respective international federations. This posturing prevented most countries – such as the USSR – from sending their top athletes, since participation in the GANEFO games would preclude them from participating in the Tokyo Olympic Games the following year. Only China and Indonesia, no longer connected to the Olympic movement, sent their best athletes to GANEFO and, for this reason, led the medal table by a wide margin. The solution adopted by most countries was to send second-tier athletes who did not compete at the highest level. The national Olympic committees were often not informed of which athletes were attending. In some cases, the state itself sent the athletes directly, bypassing the civil society entities that controlled the sport. In the case of Third World countries, sports depended directly on state action, and the national Olympic committees could do very little to prevent athletes from being sent to GANEFO. In other cases, it was the civil society groups connected to union movements, the communist party, or student movements, who sent their representatives. This was the case of Holland, Germany, along with Brazil and Argentina. Other countries, such as Czechoslovakia and the Soviet Union, sent only athletes in sports that not included in the Olympic program, such as, at the time, table tennis. Given that there was no connection to the Olympic movement for these sports, no sanction would be possible. GANEFO’s criticism was philosophical at heart, and its main target was the premise that sport and politics don’t mix. Indeed, it was a criticism of the values defended by international sports institutions and is precisely why GANEFO was so disturbing to the members of the Olympic movement. In the mind of Indonesian Minister of Sports S. L. Subandrio, sports and politics did mix. According to his vision, denying the relationship between sports and politics only favored the established forces, which thus preserved the status quo and continued to do politics without admitting it. The best thing for the emerging forces to do was to expose this hypocrisy and then make the case for their needs. Even so, it is interesting to note that the creators of GANEFO did not openly criticize the principles put forth in the Olympic Charter that Pierre de Coubertin formulated. Instead, they used the IOC’s political kabuki for “distorting the founding principles” of the Olympic Charter. In the view of GANEFO’s creators, Indonesia’s expulsion from the IOC was a clear way in which imperialists and colonialists were manipulating the supposedly universal principles of the Olympic Charter. In this vein Germany, Guinea, Hungary, Indonesia, Iraq, Italy, Yugoslavia, Cambodia , Cuba, Laos, Lebanon, Mali, Morocco, Mexico, Netherlands, Nigeria, Pakistan, France, Philippines, Poland, North Korea, Republic of Vietnam, Republic of the United States, China, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Somalia, Thailand, Czechoslovakia, Tunisia, the Soviet Union and Uruguay.

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GANEFO would be precisely the revival of Baron de Coubertin’s ideals, only this time commanded by Third World countries.⁴⁹ The relentless conflict between the IOC and GANEFO required reorganizing the political structure of sport as a whole. If the structure of international sports associations reflected Eurocentric logic, it was necessary to build a new model, more suitable to Third World nations. There would necessarily be four vice-presidencies, one granted to each continent. China would be in charge of Asia, UAR of Africa, and the Soviet Union of Europe. In the end, no consensus was reached on who would fill the vice presidency of the Americas. China and the Soviet Union wanted to grant it to Cuba, which was frowned upon by the other representatives of the Latin American countries at the Congress. They pointed out that at the time most of the countries in the continent did not recognize the Cuban government and that granting the vice presidency of the organization to the island would be complicated. The Americas seat remained empty. GANEFO’s difficulties would not stop there.⁵⁰ The GANEFO effect was the repositioning of the Afro-Asian bloc countries, making them stronger within the sports institutions. In other words, the existence of a failed attempt at institutional revolution set the stage for reforms and created the conditions for strengthening the Third World bloc in these institutions.Advocates of the reformist tradition prevailed in African countries. In their view, these sports institutions were already consolidated in the global arena. United in the fight against South African apartheid, these international events were important instruments of pressure and political struggle for the continent’s freedom. The problem was that the issue of race was never really seen as a problem to be tackled by the leaders of the IOC and FIFA. South Africa was expelled from the IOC in 1963, an event that should be understood as a direct consequence of the strengthening of the bloc brought about by GANEFO and the consequent retreat of the European bloc. Around the same time, the Africans held their first regional games in Brazzaville. This time, the IOC and FIFA decided to get behind this event and granted it full political and sporting support. The Congolese Jean-Claude Ganga, then president of the Higher Council for Sports in Africa, and who would become, in the near future, one of João Havelange’s main allies both at FIFA and the IOC itself, was directly involved in the organi-

 Games of the New Emerging Forces, “Documents (Preparatory for the Organization of GANEFO),” General FIFA Archives. FIFA Archives, Indonesian Box, 1963-1965.  Foreign and Commonwealth Office, “Whether to attend GANEFO, opening and functions as official UK representative,” Enclosure: Report Foreign Office and Whitehall Distribution, number 117, Ganefo, November 8, 1963. One report, The National Archives, London, UK. FO-361/ 169946.

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zation of the African Games in 1965.⁵¹ Avery Brundage, then president, writes directly to Ganga: “We are very happy to find a general appreciation for the principles of the Olympic movement in Africa. If sport is free from political interference, much more can be done for the unity of the African continent than by any other means.”⁵² This fear prompted Stanley Rous, Avery Brundage, and Lord Burghley himself to attend the Brazzaville games in order to strengthen relations between the national federations, the African countries, and the Olympic movement. In correspondence with the British Foreign Office, Burghley himself made a point of emphasizing how important his participation was: “Even if it is expensive and inconvenient, I am planning to spend a few days there. It will allow me to cement friendships and gain the trust of the other countries’ representatives, which is absolutely vital in the battle to be had against China in the GANEFO participation in Cairo two years from now.”⁵³ The two adjectives – expensive and inconvenient – used by Burghley to describe his trip to the Congo act as a metaphor for the transformations imposed by the 1960s. It was certainly expensive for the established institutions to include the countries of the Afro-Asian bloc. There was an economic and political cost to be paid to retain the monopoly of the sporting institutions. It was also inconvenient. None of the European leaders, trained in a racist, colonial tradition, were satisfied with the history was taking. It was necessary, though. In his letter Burghley mentioned the second GANEFO event that would, in theory, be held in United Arab Republic (UAR), Africa, in 1967. Coined by Burghley, the Battle of Cairo never took place. The host of games was changed to Cambodia, and no they longer enjoyed the same enthusiasm and levels of participation as the 1963 event. By 1967, things had changed, including the objective conditions for holding such an event. The Soviet Union participated in GANEFO for strategic rather than ideological purposes. The Soviets had invested political capital in

 President of the Council for African Sport, Jean Claude Ganga was one of the central figures in the fight against apartheid, he was present at both FIFA and the IOC. Resistance to his participation meant that he was only elected a member of the IOC in 1981, after Samaranch’s victory. Late in life, Ganga was involved in corruption scandals. He published a memoir in French, Combats pour les sport africain, published in 1983, in which he recounts the struggle for apartheid through sport.  Avery Brundage, Correspondance addressed to Jean Claude-Ganga (January, 1965). One Letter, IOC Archives, Lausanne.  David Burghley, “The First African Games at Brazzaville, 1965,” Correspondance addressed to Jean Claude Ganga (March 9, 1965). One letter, The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, 1966, FO371/181634.

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the Olympic movement and were not interested in sponsoring an event of this nature. After 1965, with the Sino-Soviet crisis, the Russian delegates withdrew for good.⁵⁴ In the same year, 1967, Sukarno, the president of Indonesia was overthrown in a CIA- and US-government-backed coup led locally by General Suharto. Sukarno was placed under house arrest until his death in 1970. Even the Chinese – as early as 1968 – became increasingly introspective, focusing on the internal problems brought about by the Maoist cultural revolution, thus leading to a period of relative isolation from the rest of the world that would continue until 1971. UAR which was supposed to host the Games, claimed financial problems, and began to invest more in building up African leadership within the IOC. In practice, the idea gaining space in the existing international sports institutions was the best way forward was gaining traction among leaders on the African continent. UAR’s decision not to host the event clearly expressed this change in position. With the participation of North Korea, China, and other Asian countries, the second GANEFO event, this time in Cambodia, had much less of an impact than the first. GANEFO left its mark imprinted in the history of sports federations of the 1960s. With the threat of GANEFO, IOC officials needed to back down on the South African issue and provide more opportunities and political representation to African officials by affiliating members and national Olympic committees from these countries. From that point forward, the African bloc would be much stronger in its push to have their demands met. At FIFA, fundamental changes occurred. Stanley Rous created the Technical Development Program, a direct response to Asian and African countries demands. As far as the record shows, this was the first development program created by a sports institution. However, the more space was granted to the newly decolonized nations, the more these federations were empowered, and more pressure for changes took place.

The rise of Stanley Rous as president of FIFA When Stanley Rous was elected President of FIFA, he had already been the bestknown soccer official in the world for over two decades.⁵⁵ The first references to

 Jenifer Parks, “Red sport, red tape: The Olympic Games, The Soviet Sports bureaucracy and the Cold War, 1952– 1980” (Master’s thesis., College of Arts and Sciences, University of North Carolina, 2009).  As Walter Winterbottom stated: “I don’t think it is any exaggeration to say that Sir Stanley is the best known figure in football in the world. Not only is he known by reputation, but he is known personally to many people. His dignified presence and his husky voice must be

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him in the FIFA archives date back to 1927, at the time an active referee.⁵⁶ In 1934, Rous was one of six candidates for the bureaucracy of the Football Association’s top job – secretary general.⁵⁷ Rous took over in the midst of an institutional crisis. The 1920s had seen the growth of rugby in England, especially in elite schools and universities, something that concerned Football Association administrators. According to the FA officials, rugby’s growth depended on the existence of skilled human resources, especially coaches and teachers, to teach the sport.⁵⁸ In soccer, however, this skilled labor force simply did not exist. Rous thus drew up a plan to contain rugby by creating the Football Association Coaching Scheme, an annual course to train soccer coaches.⁵⁹ In 1939, FIFA Bulletin hailed the FA’s initiative as “an example to be followed by other European countries”.⁶⁰ The classes did not only enable Rous to settle domestic disputes, but also open doors internationally. Unlike his predecessors, Rous’s view of the game was less restricted to the fields of the United Kingdom.⁶¹ The mere fact that he refereed matches outside the UK made him observe the popularity of soccer at the continental level. In this sense, the creation of the coaching class proved to be useful as a source of labor for countries interested in hiring English coaches. In anticipation of the decolonization processes, Rous imagined that soccer could become a space where England would continue its cultural and symbolic domination, which was fundamental in preserving the ties between the metropole and the former colonies. The unintended consequence of the Football Association’s coaching class was the turning of Rous into an international celebrity.⁶²

known in all football circles from Japan in the East to Peru in the West”. Fédération Internationale de Football Association, Minutes of the Extraordinary Congress of FIFA at London, 28/29th, (London: September, 1961), FIFA Archives, Zürich.  In FIFA Archives, the first reference of Rous is a number of FIFA review, Federation International de Football Association – Official Communications, year four, number 30.  Stanley Rous, Football Words – a lifetime in sport (London: Faber and Faber, 1978).  Frederick Wall, Fifty years of football (London: Cassell and Company, 1932), Tony Collins, A social history of English rugby union (London: Routledge, 2009).  Football Association. Fédération Internationale de Football Association. World’s Football. Official Bulletin of FIFA, Zürich, n. 48, 1. Sep. 1935. p. 4  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Classes for football Coachs and instructors,” Official Bulletin of FIFA (Zürich, April, 1939).  Geoffrey Green, The History of the Football Association (London: The Naldrett Press, 1953). See, Peter J. Beck, Scoring for Britain: International Football and International Politics (London: Routledge, 1999).  AlanTomlinson, “Fifa and the man who made it,” Soccer & Society 1 (2000): 55, accessed March 6, 2022, doi: 10.1080/14660970008721248.

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What is difficult to understand is not how Rous was elected FIFA president, but rather why it had not happened sooner. In the 1950s, Rous was better known than the FA’s nominee for FIFA President, Arthur Drewry, who was elected in 1956.⁶³ Nationally, Drewry was a major figure, but his activities outside the UK were virtually unknown.⁶⁴ Some authors even claim that Rous was, in fact, “the driving force” behind Arthur Drewry.⁶⁵ Why, then, at that point was Arthur Drewry chosen as the Football Association’s candidate, and not Stanley Rous? Although he was awarded the title of Sir for his service as organizer of the 1948 Olympic Games, Rous had been born into a working-class family in a small fishing community.⁶⁶ In his autobiography, Rous tells how his parents did not have the means to send him to Cambridge.⁶⁷ Unlike many English leaders who held similar positions, Rous did not come from nobility; he had been a teacher of English in a small school in rural England. Secondly, within the bureaucracy of the Football Association, the position of secretary general was a paid position. Drewry, on the other hand, was the chairman of the association, a dilettante. Earning money off of services rendered to soccer did not only raise moral issues, but legal barriers, too. According to the FIFA regulations, candidates for FIFA president could not hold a paid position in soccer at the time of the election. In order to run for office Rous had to give up his salary without any guarantee of getting it back.⁶⁸ But in 1961 – when Arthur Drewry died in office – the situation was completely different than it was a few years later. This time, the Football Association needed Stanley Rous at FIFA. Rous was all the more necessary given the alarms triggered by the changes in the world at the time. That was the year of the failed Bay of Pigs invasion, the year that the ground broke for the Berlin Wall, and

 Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Extraordinary Congress of FIFA”, Minutes […] (Lisbon, 1956) FIFA Archives, Zürich.  A personal remark: I find very few references of Arthur Drewry at FIFA Archives and also at the National Archives at Kew Gardens. Aparently Drewry was important to foster the creation of the Confederation system in FIFA postwar. However, his name is much less frequent than that of Stanley Rous.  Tomlinson, “Fifa and the man who made it”, 55 – 71.  Comité organisateur de la XIV Olympiade, London, 1948, Official Book of the Olympics, London: Comite Organisateur de la XIV Olympiade, 1948.  Rous, Football Words.  FIFA Statutes veto the participation of paid oficials as members of the Executive Commitee. More debate on this was made in a Circular letter: Fédération Internationale de Football Association, Aux associations nationales à la FIFA. Concerne: Candidats à la presidence de la FIFA [Circular letter nº 8], destinated to All National Associations of FIFA. (Zürich: August 8, 1966), one circular letter, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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when the conflict in Vietnam escalated. The mounting tension between the United States and the Soviet Union was moving the Cold War southward, and the decolonization processes were speeding up as a result. The power, violence, and possibilities of decolonization were interpreted by Frantz Fanon in The Wretched of the Earth, a work that encapsulated the zeitgeist of Global South Cold War. Fanon calls for decolonized peoples to not only seek independence, but also international mutual assistance in advocating a post-colonial project.⁶⁹ These ideas found echoes in sounder political projects, and in the international movement of leaders of countries that had just recently shattered the yoke colonization. The Belgrade Conference was held in September 1961. It was a movement led by countries such as Yugoslavia, Ghana, UAR, Senegal, and Indonesia, and its principles could be very broadly defined as “economic cooperation and mutual assistance, political neutrality as outlined in Bandung, and the defense of the principle of self-determination of peoples. The founding of the Non-Aligned Movement in Belgrade represented a step forward from Bandung. It was an attempt to give the ideas theorized in Bandung a political dimension and shape.”⁷⁰ FIFA’s history is connected to these global transformations, and often the self-serving political debate of the technical-legal discussion. In the 1950s, a Statutes Reform Committee established to reform the institution’s statutes, considered to be outdated in the postwar context. The main debates were aimed at restructuring the Executive Committee, giving more power to the Asian and African nations, without Europe losing its majority. The English and the Argentineans came up with the idea of a system of confederations at the 1950 Congress. This system was presented as a way of guaranteeing Europe and South America’s weight within FIFA, while ensuring the autonomy necessary for FIFA’s growth. This autonomy had to be adjusted accordingly, since there was the fear that too much autonomy would result in “FIFA’s suicide.”⁷¹ For the next decades, the confederation system, as proposed, worked relatively well on most continents, but – to quote a letter written by Secretary-General Helmut Käser – there was a “special situation in Asia.”⁷² Due to geopolitical issues, several coun-

 Jean Paul Sartre, preface to Os condenados da Terra by Frantz Fanon (Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1979).  Odd. Arne Westad, The Global Cold War – third world interventions and the making of our times (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).  Ernst Thommen, “Report on Statutes commitee reform addressed to the Executive Meeting,” (October, 1959). One report, FIFA Archives, Zürich.  . Koe-Wai Teik, Correspondência addressed to Helmut Käser (Malásia: December 19, 1972). Malasyia Federation, Box 1963-1972.

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tries chose not to join the Asian Football Confederation, which ended up dominated by the Malaysians, Israelis, South Koreans, Japanese, and Thais. This arrangement carried on and the countries of the Arab bloc and of “communist” Asia (North Korea, Vietnam, Khmer Republic) were directly affiliated to FIFA, and did not compete in AFC competitions.⁷³ The discussion about the confederation system was at the heart of the debate on what to do with the new federations that had joined FIFA after the decolonization process. The 1961 election, in which Stanley Rous was elected president, represented the height of these discussions. There was a political clash between four candidates, grouped around three distinct political projects. The Swiss Ernst Thommen, the acting FIFA president, and the Italian Ottorino Barassi, the president of the Italian National Federation, represented the same ideological bent. Despite their hegemony in Europe, they could not establish themselves as an alternative political force to the British domination in FIFA. This wing was characterized by radical conservatism. It is worth mentioning that, in this context, this more radical wing was supported by South American countries. Although restricted, the evidence suggests that the South American leaders did not form a bloc, but rather took a pragmatic approach to elections. However, when it came to supporting radical projects that eroded the rights of the Asian and African federations, South American leaders were on the same page. At that time, Latin American soccer officials did not view themselves as part of the “Third World.” In that context, the success of South American national teams and clubs was clear, and even greater than that of the Europeans. In this sense, when it came to soccer, South American managers believed they were first-world and would support exclusionary measures “in the name of technique,” as they thought they stood to benefit from such measures. This group wanted to drive the reforms toward undermining the political rights of decolonized countries, changing the very nature of FIFA’s statutes by replacing the one country per vote system to a weighted vote system. Written in 1960, Otorrino Barassi’s article, The World Organisation Urgently Requires Modernising, should be seen as a political manifesto: Sport is not a question of politics but of technique, and it is not conceivable that England, who led all the rest, and is a powerful national Association, must count the same as the youngest and smallest of member Associations. Either a new system of valuation must be sought, as anyway is applied in many other sports, or those continent confederations

 A good parameter is the Asian Confederation Cup – the first Tournament counted with the participation of Hong Kong, Israel, South Vietnan and South Korea, but excluded others. This special situation remained as such until 1972.

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only before which the separate national Associations are equal in rights and duties, must be developed. The relations with the F.I.F.A. will then be regulated by the continental confederation alone. Serious anxiety must be felt at the prospect of what might happen if the group of new African and Asiatic Associations (only to give an example) lumped together, formed a numerical majority at the General Meeting of the F.I.F.A. and intended to make decisions without taking into account the isolation of the European and American groups or one of them. The number of the respective National Association sand their quality, would allow for sufficient and interesting life on an international plane, and a European, or American, or mixed Championship would be the same as a World Championship, at least for the Europeans.⁷⁴

Barassi’s nominal references are surgically precise. The European fear was that FIFA’s system, based on one country per vote, would allow the rise of the “new and small” nations. If the African and Asian associations became the majority, something that already seemed inevitable in that context, they could change the FIFA system from within. Should this come about, the possibility of a split would be on the agenda. By the same token, quoting England is no coincidence, either. At least in this context, the system of one vote per country strengthened the British position, as will be discussed later. From the British perspective, there was no reason to change a system that favored them anyway. Therefore, Barassi’s quote was an attempt to seduce the UEFA countries in general and FA in particular. After all, was there anyone stronger in a weighted system than the FA? Certainly not. Finally, it is interesting that Barassi cites administrative systems from “other sports.” Was Barassi referring to the International Olympic Committee’s administrative structure, which was more selective, and which refused to make room for Asian and African federations? In April 1961, shortly before he forwarded the final version of the new statutes, Thommen proposed a similar change to the FIFA Statutes Reforms Committee. The creation of a separate category of FIFA affiliate – that of apprentice membership.⁷⁵ While the old nations would remain affiliated with equal rights and duties, the new ones would receive a subordinate legal status, a sort of second-class membership. After a period under the supervision of more experienced federations, they would be fully integrated into FIFA. The similarity of Thommen’s logic and that of colonial legislation is striking. The category “indig-

 Otorrino Barassi, “The World Organisation Urgently Requires Modernising”, excerpt from Magazine Calcio, published in Milan, by the F.I.G.C, Lega Nazionale, year 11, number 1/3, 36 – 40. This text was translated and published in English. I find a copy of that at FIFA Library.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Statutes Reform Committee Meeting,” (Hotel Euler a la Bale, Zurique, October 20 and 21, 1960), 2. FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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enous” was often synonymous with a second-class citizen in the various colonies around the world.⁷⁶ In the case of FIFA, the argument was similar to that of justifying colonization as a “white man’s burden” – until Europeans taught “the new countries” how politics was done, the best option was to deny them of their political rights.⁷⁷ Thommen’s speech got a cold welcome from the representative of the Soviet Union, FIFA vice-president Vladimir Granatkin. In the sports institutions, the position adopted by the Soviet Union Football Federation was opposite to that of Thommen. The Soviet representatives saw themselves as defenders of the rights of Third World countries vis-à-vis the European institutional order. At the Paris Congress in 1955, the Soviets even proposed an overhaul of the International Olympic Committee in favor of adopting a UN-like structure closer to that of FIFA.⁷⁸ In the debate with Thommen, Granatkin pointed out the obvious: that the weighted votes proposal violated FIFA’s founding principle of legal equality among member countries. He then sharply questioned Thommen, “Why now, at a time when dozens of nations want to join FIFA, do you want to create a new category of member?” Granatkin was then interrupted by Mendonza, the Paraguayan and South American representative on the Reform Committee: “There is no discrimination in this case […] it is just a question of differentiating the members between the more experienced and the younger ones.”⁷⁹ At the end of the election, Thommen was eventually endorsed by Barassi, who withdrew his candidacy. In practice, Barassi and Thommen had a similar ideological project: both feared the rebellion of the “new and small nations” from within FIFA and wanted to channel reforms to bolster Europe’s position within the organization, thereby maintaining the status quo. In the 1961 FIFA presidential election, Thommen received 18 votes, and came in second place. In early September 1961, the Non-Aligned Movement had held the Belgrade Conference. As mentioned, this conference was important for the consolidation of the Non-Aligned Movement on an international scale through the officialization of a program. Belgrade’s repercussions made it into FIFA with a new candidate, the Yugoslav Mihailo Andrejevic. At FIFA, Andrejevic’s candidacy repre-

 Matheus Serva Pereira, “Grandiosos batuques: identidade e experiências dos trabalhadores em Lourenço Marques, 1870 – 1920” (PhD diss., Universidade Estadual de Campinas, 2016).  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Statutes Reform Committee Meeting”.  Jenifer Parks, “Welcoming the Third World: Soviet Sports Diplomacy, Developing Nations and the Olympic Games”, in Diplomatic games: Sport, statecraft and international relations, ed. Heather Ditcher and Andrew. L. John (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2014).  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, Minutes of Statutes Committee Meeting, (Hotel Euler a la Bale, Zurique, October 20 and 21, 1960), 6. FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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sented the embryo of a third-world project that would buttress and boost Havelange later on. Even in 1974, more progressive sectors of the international press claimed that Andrejevic’s candidacy – and not Havelange’s – represented an authentic Third World project. Andrejevic did not run for this election, though.⁸⁰ At FIFA, he had a lot of political capital, which led him to break records for holding a seat on the executive committee with a tenure spanning 1938 to 1982, with occasional interruptions.⁸¹ A doctor by training, Andrejevic led the creation of the FIFA Medical Committee and was responsible for the first doping tests at FIFA. In 1961, Andrejevic presented himself as “a radical champion of the idea that all federations ought to have the right to an equal voice and vote.”⁸² His alliances were concentrated on the African continent: countries like Sudan, Egypt, Ghana, Nigeria and Ethiopia certainly supported him. He may have also attracted attention from autonomous federations in Asia, such as Indonesia. The social and political conditions of 1961 garnered Andrejevic only 14 votes, and he ended up in last place in the election. However, his candidacy was aimed at making a point rather than winning office. Even though he lost, he refused to concede, and forced a second round of voting.⁸³ In any case, the 1961 Congress participant pie chart helps to understand why Andrejevic’s vote was so low. The graph above describes the representatives present at the 1961 election at the FIFA Congress held in London. Although affiliated, some national associations, especially from the Afro-Asian bloc, as well as three from South America, were not present at the Extraordinary Congress. It is worth stating that at the time FIFA did not cover travel costs for the delegates of the national associations. The use of economic power was the way to distort the political equality of member countries, as entailed in article one. Postal voting was not allowed at the time. With the massive influx of African countries after 1966, FIFA started to be more systematic in keeping tabs on which countries paid annual fees, and which did not. This was a legal procedure supported by the FIFA Statutes, but it is interesting to note that at a time when the fees represented progressively smaller part of its overall budget, this kind of control became more discriminating. Additionally, the FIFA Congress is hosted every two years, a schedule determined by and meant to coincide with the holding of the Olympic Games and the

 Miroir du Football, juin, 1974.  Two small interruptions from 1951– 1953 and from 1970 – 1972. However, Andrejevic still holds the record as the longest member at the Executive Committee in FIFA history.  “Portrait of Andrejevic, [1957-1961],” Correspondence between Yugoslavian Football Federation and FIFA. FIFA Archives, Zürich, box 1957-1961.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “III Extraordinary Congress of FIFA, 1961,”Minutas […], (Londres: September 28-29, 1961). FIFA, Londres, 1961, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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Graph 1: Chart of countries represented at the 1961 Congress by continent. Source: FIFA Archive, FIFA Extraordinary Congress, London, 1961.

World Cup. As a way of facilitating delegates’ travel, the Congress is hold in the same location as that of the World Cup or the Olympic Games. It is safe to say that at the time an extraordinary Congress (hold in an odd year, and therefore at a random venue) would necessarily have gathered a much smaller quorum than an ordinary meeting. It was not by chance that the Executive Committee decided to discuss statutory matters at an Extraordinary Congress: a smaller quorum would make it easier to reach the required two-thirds majority for statutory changes. Thus, the list of absentees from the Congress – mostly low-income countries – provides a fair measure of how this action was planned. In this vein, the 1961 Extraordinary Congress did not include the election of the president on the agenda.⁸⁴ Drewry’s death in March expedited the elections, which were slated to take place in Chile the following year. The delegates even discussed the legality of holding the presidential election in an extraordinary congress, but part of the European bloc maneuvered so that the president would be chosen as soon as possible. Decolonization processes were underway and the

 The missing list on 1961 Congress includes: Afghanistan, Albania, Bermuda, Bolivia, Burma, Cambodia, China (Formosa), Cuba, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Germany (East), Haiti, India, Jordan, North Korea, South Korea South, Laos, Lebanon, Nicaragua, Panama, Puerto Rico, El Salvador, Saudi Arabia, Sierra Leone, Sudan, Thailand, Uganda, Venezuela, VietnamCheck Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Extraordinary Congress, 1961,”Minutes […], (Londres: September 28-29, 1961). FIFA: Londres, 1961, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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trickle of requests for FIFA membership was constant. From the European perspective, the best thing to do was to elect the president as soon as possible. The numerical weight of the Union of European Football Associations (UEFA) was still certain in 1961. At this time, the European bloc represented approximately 40 percent of the members present at the meeting. Notwithstanding, Europe was far from acting as a bloc. In that context, Europe was a continent divided by political and linguistic issues and agelong rivalries. On one side, England and the Soviet Union would block radical status changes aimed at reducing the autonomy of the Afro-Asian bloc countries. Therefore, even if the radical wing were able to mobilize South America against the Afro-Asian bloc, support would be insufficient to reach the necessary quorum. Then there was the problem of legitimacy. At FIFA, changes to the political system would generate unexpected consequences, and the organization would certainly lose strength in the international arena, creating a vacuum for other institutions fill. In the opening speech of the Extraordinary Congress, no one less than Thommen himself recognized the root of the problem and: “As long as FIFA remains the only body controlling world soccer, there is no need to change the principles valid until today.”⁸⁵ The primary objective at FIFA has always been to hold on to the monopoly. Breaking it would have consequences for the parties involved, it that was precisely what was to be avoided. Given this scenario, Stanley Rous’s project looked attractive as he presented himself as a moderate and safe option, averse to the radicalism of either the European or the Third World projects. The goal was to forge an international coalition that would be able to simultaneously tackle the revolutionary movements both inside and outside FIFA, thereby avoiding a mutiny by the new and small nations. That said, this coalition did intend to make space for the independent nations, and to a certain extent recognized the legitimacy of their political rights. The Europeans were supposed to act as political guides for the newly independent nations to join FIFA. Rous’s first speech as FIFA President, published in the FIFA Bulletin, gives an overview of his project: FIFA finds itself in a similar position to that of international diplomacy. In Asia and Africa, new nations arise; naturally, they want to have a voice in the affairs. And yet, I’m sure they all need the active help of the older, more experienced nations. It is the responsibility of this governmental body, of which I am now the president, to give these developing countries help in all forms: standardization of refereeing, administrative funding, organization

 Ernst Thommen, “Opening of the Congress,” Minutes […], Fédération Internationale de Football Association (Londres: September 28-29, 1961). FIFA, Londres, 1961, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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of competitions, improvement of technical systems, and all aspects of football administration.⁸⁶

This is not a matter of stressing – as did Mihailo Andrejevic’s proposal – the statement that “FIFA members are legally equal among themselves.” The differences between nations were noticeable and had to be appreciated within FIFA’s own administrative structure. On the other hand, there nobody was trying to deny the political rights of developing countries. Rous, who was keen on investing in cooperation programs, presented himself as a member of the “more experienced nations” who acknowledged the legitimacy of underdeveloped nations’ plea for a voice in the affairs of the FIFA structure. While some political groups in Europe considered FIFA an institution that belonged to them by historical right, and would not accept yielding any space, Rous had a different vision. His proposal took the form of the tutelary pact: from that point on FIFA still going to be controlled by the Europeans but at the same time would also work to reduce the soccer gap between countries. Rous’s overwhelming victory speaks to how well-received this project was. In the first round of the 1961 election Rous won a majority of 35 votes. After Thommen’s withdrawal (18 votes in the first round), Rous received 51 votes while Andrejevic idled at 14. Of Thommen’s 18 votes, Stanley Rous won 16. What this shift in votes from Thommen to Rous also shows is how Rous’s stance was closer to that of the Swiss than to the Yugoslav.⁸⁷ After he was elected, Rous’s management had the support of the two main adversaries of the Cold War – the Soviet Union and the United States. Rous seemed to have good connections with Soviet vice president Vladimir Granatkin. Rous advocated for maintaining an exclusive vice presidency for the Soviet Union on the Executive Committee. It should be mentioned that this was a privilege both the Soviets and the British enjoyed and it was natural for both to join in defending it. In 1955, Rous led delegation from Arsenal to the Soviet Union, in

 Stanley Rous, “A message from your president”, FIFA Official Bulletin, number 34 (Zürich: October, 1961). You can also see this double bind game in a preface to a book entitled European Football, […] “My parish as president of the Federation International de Football Association consists of 135 countries scattered all over the globe and I spend as much of my time as possible visiting them to show they are all members of a great family whose interests are not forgotten. I mention this to show that the 33 countries who form the UEFA are but a part, even so an important part, of the main association. […] Football is the world greatest sport. I hope it always remains so.”  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “III Extraordinary Congress of FIFA, 1961,”Minutes […] (London: September 28-29, 1961). FIFA, London, 1961, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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what was the first such visit by an English club. The Soviets also opposed the radical European project, which aimed to erode the power of the new associations and create a system of weighted votes. Regarding their position, Rous has this to say in his autobiography: “The Russians, however, always did their best to extract political capital during my presidency of FIFA”.⁸⁸ In this sense Rous was a timely ally – he could curb both the more radical European extremism and an autonomous Third World project that the Soviets themselves were not leading. Russian pragmatism lent them strategic posts at FIFA. As a result, Granatkin was the first chairman of FIFA’s Technical Development Committee. This was a key position for the Soviet Union because it allowed them to chair the technical cooperation section. Rous’s affinity with the Americans was even greater. In this respect, the alliance with the United States was one of the main pillars backing Rous’s administration. Despite its minor stature in terms of soccer prestige, American leadership was continental and would begin to be more consistently so under Rous’ presidency. Based on the tone of the correspondence between Rous and James McGuire, the president of the United States Soccer Federation, they appeared to be personal friends. In handling one of the thorniest issues of his presidency, Rous invited McGuire to visit South Africa. Together with Secretary General Helmut Käser, they wrote the lengthy report that cleared the Football Association of South Africa (FASA) of “willful discrimination,” and recommended that it be allowed back into FIFA. From Europe to South America to Asia, Rous was seen as the right person to lead the political transition at FIFA. In London, British Foreign and Commonwealth Office documentation shows how Rous brokered cooperation agreements (sending coaches, referees and players) with countries such as Togo, Nigeria, and Guinea.⁸⁹ However, most of these agreements did not go through the British Foreign Office and were struck directly between the soccer associations. A copy of Football Association Offical Bulletin from 1949 advertised job openings for coaches in Syria, Bari (Italy), South Africa, as well as positions for referees for the Football Federation of Rio Grande do Sul.⁹⁰ Even before becoming President of FIFA, Rous was a political mediator for the entry of several national associations into FIFA, as was the case with Tanzania.⁹¹ In 1955, Rous traveled to South-

 Rous, Football Words, 28.  Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Correspondence, “Football Coaches to Africa”. One telegram, The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 371/147629.  Football Association, Football Association, “Jobs and opportunities,” Football Association – The Official Bulletin, number 42 (1949), 13.  Stanley Rous, letter from Stanley Rous to FIFA presidency requiring affiliation to Tanzania, (November 9, 1961). One letter, Tanzania Football Association, FIFA, Box 1960-1975.

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east Asia (Malaysia, Thailand, etc.) to set up a coaching program. At FIFA’s behest, Rous himself taught refereeing courses in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and Khartoum, Sudan.⁹² The symbolic strength of England as the cradle of world sports had a significant weight in the construction of the image of sports leaders. Seen by the sporting community as “lords” and inventors of fair play, the English and British generally held similar international positions, and enjoyed high reputations in international sporting associations. As a former soccer referee, Rous had a privileged position and sought to leverage this national symbolic capital for his role as president. Although one of the hallmarks of Rous’s administration was the political movement to “standardize refereeing internationally”,⁹³ spotlighting the figure of the referee during his administration transmitted an underlying message, however. By evoking the image of the referee in his political actions, Rous intended to reinforce the idea of a “neutral” presidency. Free of political moorings and empowered to look at political disputes “from above,” Rous thus intended to present himself as an arbiter of international disputes. Playing his role as a referee gave Rous several cards to bolster the legitimacy of FIFA’s governance and its role in mediating conflict. Rous had been the Secretary of the Football Association back when it still had international ties.⁹⁴ Of the federations present at the 1961 Congress, 32 % were or had been directly affiliated to the Football Association. Given the FA’s penetration and influence, the system of one vote per country handed England unequal political strength within FIFA. The relationships built by Rous in his years at the head of the Football Association paved the way for him to the top job at FIFA. Rous’s institutional alliances were precisely with the countries that were once part of the British Empire – such as South Africa, the United States, but especially with the countries of Southeast Asia, such as Hong

 Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Courses for Referees,” FIFA – The Official Bulletin, number 27 (September 29, 1959), 24.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, FIFA News, number 42 (November 30, 1966), 5.  The data from 1952– 1953 shows that All India Football Association, Australia Football Association, Antigua Football Association Bermuda, Guyana Football Association, Brunei Amateur Football Association, Canada Football Association, Gibraltar Football Association, Grenada Amateur, Hong Kong Football Association, Jamaica Football Association, Kenya Football Association, Malta, Malaya Football Association, New Zealand Football Association, Nigeria Football Association, Sierra Leone Football Association, South Africa Football Association, Uganda Football Association, Trinidad Football Association, Tanzania Football Association e Zanzibar Football Association were also affiliated to the F.A. Check Geoffrey Green, appendix III to The History of the Football Association, by Geoffrey Green (London: Naldrett Press, 1953).

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Kong, Thailand, Malaysia, Ceylon [today Sri Lanka], and Singapore. Rous enjoyed such strong legitimacy in these countries that, in 1966, representatives of the Football Association of Thailand requested to nominate him as a candidate for re-election to FIFA.⁹⁵ Often overlooked in the literature, the letter from the president of the Football Association of Thailand draws a direct line between Stanley Rous’s decisions and his political base. In 1961, a Malaysian leader complained to Rous about the need to create an international program for training and circulating coaches in peripheral countries.⁹⁶ Rous had already implemented such programs during his tenure as secretary of the Football Association and was indeed expected to implement similar programs as president of FIFA. In 1964, Rous recommended the creation of a 500,000-Swiss franc fund geared toward soccer development programs in underdeveloped nations.⁹⁷ The FIFA Technical Development Committee was created in 1964, quite possibly the first program of its kind ever implemented by an international sporting institution.⁹⁸ The first cohort of the Committee’s board was made up of representatives from nations considered to be developed in soccer terms – Brazil, Italy, England, and Germany. These countries would be responsible for implementing their success stories in countries that needed funding. Playing politics, Stanley Rous nominated Granatkin, the Soviet representative, to be the first chairman of FIFA’s Technical Development Committee. This was the ideal position for the USSR, as it enabled it to directly mediate and control the funding that would be sent to countries in Africa and Asia. Granatkin chaired the Committee until the early 1970s, when he was replaced by Henry Cavan of Ireland.⁹⁹ The language of development permeated Stanley Rous’ political project. As highlighted above, the concept of development was the mediating element that through financing policies and international cooperation tightened up the ties between the former colonies and the former metropoles. At FIFA, the Committee

 Football Association of Thailand, Correspondence addressed to Fédération Internationale de Football Association (May 10, 1966). One letter, Box Thailand Football Association 1964-1978. Käser, FIFA secretary general, denied the request, stating that the F.A had already.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “The role of Confederations,” FIFA – The Official Bulletin, Zürich, number 42, (May 1964).  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “The role of Confederations”. It was a significant amount at the time, circa 10 % of FIFA annual budget.  The Creation of the Development program at FIFA happened at the same year of the creation of UNCTAD (United Nations Conference for Trade and Development). Prashad, The Darker Nations.  Fédération Internationale de Football, Minutes of Technical Development Committee (London: November, 1964).

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was active in international cooperation. These measures covered a wide range of activities – producing educational films on refereeing and techniques, grants for administrative cooperation through the direct donations of financial resources or grant fees, and, above all, capacity building and training courses for soccer coaches and referees.¹⁰⁰ The main step the FIFA Development Committee took was to hire a full-time soccer coach exclusively dedicated to giving lectures and training coaches around the world. It made a similar effort in the field of refereeing – FIFA recruited English referee Ken Aston to give courses on the rules of the game around the world with the aim of standardizing refereeing worldwide. Detmar Cramer, a German, was selected to be FIFA’s coach. Cramer was not just any coach. In 1964, he had been coach of the Japanese national team before taking up his permanent post at FIFA and was therefore well known in Asian countries. Cramer was also a soccer theorist and wrote manuals on tactics and technique in the early 1950s, published in German.¹⁰¹ After almost seven years as head coach for the FIFA Technical Committee, Cramer would become a three-time winner of the UEFA Champions League with Bayern Munich in the early 1970s. In surveying FIFA newsletters, as well as the minutes of the Technical Development Committee, the map shows Cramer’s movements between 1967– 1974, all funded by FIFA. Between 1967 and 1970, Cramer’s trips focused on the countries of Southeast Asia, Stanley Rous’s first-time allies. One of Cramer’s problems was that he taught in English only, so, francophone countries benefited to a lesser degree from these trainings, eventually breeding resentment among them. This choice was not gratuitous, and Rous’s allies, mostly English speakers, were favored when it came to the allocation of the Technical Committee’s resources.¹⁰² Cramer took his first trip to Africa in 1968 and visited countries aligned with Stanley Rous’s management (most notably Tanzania and Lesotho). In 1973, in the context of Havelange’s campaign for the presidency of FIFA, Rous sent Cramer on a long incursion to the continent. Cramer then visited the three main power centers of soccer in Africa (Ethiopia, Egypt and Sudan).

 Fédération Internationale de Footbal, Minutes of Technical Development Committee (London: number 3, January, 1966).  Detmar Cramer, Fussball-Taktik (Berlin: Westdeutscher Fußballverband, 1954).  Yidnekatchev Tessema, Correspondance addressed to The Techinical Development Committee (July 5, 1972). Attachments to Minutes of Techinical Development Committee, Fédération Internationale de Football Association, number 13, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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Figure 3: The Journeys of Detmar Cramer. Source: FIFA News, Development Committee Report, 1961 – 1974. FIFA Archives.

By 1961, the decolonization of Asia was complete, while it was underway in Africa between 1960 and 1962.¹⁰³ Once a country had secured its independence, the FIFA membership process was swift, though not immediate. The pile of African countries’ requests started growing in 1964 and even more intensively in 1968. The 1964 FIFA Panorama shows countries in red – “provisional” members of FIFA (countries that had applied but had not yet been granted FIFA membership). These countries were not officially admitted until the Tokyo Congress in 1964, following Rous’ election to the FIFA presidency. Stanley Rous’s electoral and political platform was geared to the demands of Southeast Asian countries and Europe in particular. The minutes of the Technical Development Committee show that the available funds were almost entirely concentrated in the hands of Rous’s allies. In 1972, Tessema, president of the Ethiopian Football Association, estimated (perhaps exaggeratedly) that less than 2 percent of the Development Committee’s resources had been allocated to the countries of Africa.¹⁰⁴ The issue of South Africa’s participation in FIFA, which  For a chronology of Decolonization, see the chronology on the end of this book.  Brian Glanville, The history of the World Cup (London: Faber & Faber, 2010).

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will be explored later, united the continent around one cause, which helped to form a continental bloc. Whereas Asia was divided by political rivalries exacerbated by the Cold War, the African continent coalesced around the issue of apartheid. Nevertheless, African countries would only be an alternative pole at FIFA if they managed to find a political leader. On their own, they did not have the symbolic legitimacy to challenge Stanley Rous’ presidency. After the 1966 World Cup, they spotted such a leader in South America.

Latin America and the 1966 World Cup: a turning point? In South America, the political aspiration to win the FIFA presidency emerges from the common experience of defeat. In this respect, the 1966 World Cup was a watershed moment. After their second World Cup title, Brazil was eliminated in the first round. In the quarterfinals, Uruguay stomached defeat to the German national team in a historic thrashing. At the same stage of the championship, Argentina lost to England by the minimum score. The match would be marked by the expulsion of Argentine captain Antonio Rattin, who argued with German referee Rudolf Kreitlein over a play and got suspended for the rest of the game. That match led the FIFA Referees Committee to create the yellow and red card system.¹⁰⁵ Dissatisfied with the decision, Rattin made obscene gestures at the audience as walked off the field. Shortly after the match, England coach Sir Alf Ramsey said on television that the “our best football will come against the right type of opposition – a team who come to play football, and not act as animals”. At FIFA, these events meant the political rupture between South America and Europe.¹⁰⁶ On the other side of the Atlantic, the European press appreciated the continental performance, and reported a new era in which tactics triumphed over individual play, valuing European “realism” and “coldness.”¹⁰⁷ And yet, for Latin Americans, there was only one plausible explanation for the failure – the Europeans, by the hands of Stanley Rous, had spoiled local soccer. The plot spread across the continent – in the book “Soccer in Sun and Shadow,” writer Eduardo

 Glanville, The history of the World Cup.  That game should be thought as part of the conflict between South America and Europe, Hilário Franco Jr., A dança dos deuses: futebol, sociedade e cultura (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2007). Giglio, Sérgio Settani, “Honour and dignity: The Peru Case at the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin.” The International Journal of the History of Sport 34.11 (2017): 1128 – 1139.  “Le realisme et le sang-froid compte double face aux sud-américains”, France Football, July 25, 1966, 3 – 6.

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Galeano boils it down: “A German referee gave England the match against Argentina, while an English referee gave Germany the match against Uruguay. Brazil had no better luck: Pelé was hunted down and kicked with impunity by Bulgaria and Portugal, who knocked Brazil out of the championship.”¹⁰⁸ Secretly, the European fraternity, represented by a combination of Englishmen and Germans, decided the results of the 1966 World Cup. On the front line was the president of FIFA, Englishman Stanley Rous, who took the brunt of the accusations. On top of presiding over the institution and being part of the World Cup organization, Rous was also the head of the very Referees Committee in charge of selecting arbiters. Moreover, he had invested much of his political capital at the head of FIFA to standardize refereeing at the international level. So many refereeing problems in the tournament put his name in the spotlight. Overcome by their victimhood, the South Americans began pushing a new idea: in order to win on the field a counter-attack would need be mounted on the sidelines first. The prominence of soccer in South American social life and the tight connections between sports associations and the bureaucratic core of the state made football national associations presidents directly dependent on the results. In the view of a historian, conspiracy theories are only valid insofar as they are also capable of interfering with reality. Taking this idea a step further, the narrative of the European “theft” managed to set aside regional political rivalries, which have marked and characterized the political history of South American soccer. In Havelange’s campaign material his continental identity as “South American” is as salient as his national representation as “Brazilian.” Havelange’s entourage said that the “Europeans” referred to him simply as “the South American.”¹⁰⁹ Of the ten Confederation countries, (at least) nine voted for him. Havelange’s run for the presidency of FIFA was both a national – supported by the Brazilian State – and a continental – supported by the South American soccer associations – project.¹¹⁰ The fruit of the political struggle itself, the South America versus Europe antagonism enabled not only the consolidation of a continental bloc, but the establishment of the South American alliance with the African and Asian blocs. This process revived Latin America’s colonial past and rather simplistically casted it as the European plunder of the South American continent. In this narrative, the  Eduardo Galeano, Futebol ao sol e à sombra (São Paulo: L&PM Pocket, 2007).  Paulo Godoy interview by: Ernesto Rodrigues (2004). Peter Pullen, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (2004), Personal Files of Ernesto Rodrigues.  Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro: 2004), Personal Files of Ernesto Rodrigues.

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role of Latin American elites – enriched and established through the colonial experience itself – is sublimated and diluted in the context of the European colonizing action taken as expropriation, pure and simple. This is one of the reasons the language of colonial exploitation and underdevelopment – also quite prominent in the discourse of leftist critics – could be easily diluted around the issue of nationalism. Within FIFA South America itself pivoted away from its stance until then of supporting the main decisions of the English in the FIFA administration. Although it is difficult to be certain, it is very likely that some of the South Americans supported Stanley Rous in the 1961 election. Since 1966 South America’s strategy has been to befriend the recently decolonized countries. Generally, the common enemy became Europe, which in discursive terms at least came to be seen as a homogeneous block. In this sense, even though Stanley Rous’s presidency was both plagued by criticism on the European continent and supported in Southeast Asia and other regions such as Oceania, Australia and the United States, all of these signs needed to be silenced.¹¹¹ In the South American narrative, it was about uniting the “rest of the world” against the European imperialists. Of the continental confederations at FIFA, the South American Football Confederation (CONMEBOL) is the one that represents the smallest contingent of countries. In FIFA’s political legal system, where each federation has one vote, it would be expected that the continent be cast in a supporting role. Nevertheless, this merely quantitative analysis would be mistaken. FIFA’s unstable chest trap of a political system cannot be reduced to the mere sum of votes.¹¹² The symbolic legitimacy of its constituents has a major relative weight. If there was, in this respect, a continental confederation capable of rivaling UEFA in terms of prestige, economic might and legitimacy in the public sphere, it was CONMEBOL. As Philippe Vonnard has showed, the foundation of UEFA was – in a larger extent – inspired by the “South American Model”.¹¹³ CONMEBOL was created in 1916, almost 50 years before the foundation of UEFA. By

 Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui Soares Porto Rocha, “The invention of FIFA history: João Havelange election as a historical event (1974– 2016),” Soccer & Society 20 (2019): 1056, accessed March 5, 2022, doi: 10.1080/14660970.2019.1680503.  The analysis here is inspired by Norbert Elias, A sociedade da corte: investigação sobre a sociologia da realeza e da aristocracia de corte (Rio de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar, 2001).  Phillipe Vonnard, Creating a United Europe of Football (Palgrave Macmillan, Cham, 2020) and Philippe Vonnard and Grégory Quin, “Did South America foster European football?: transnational influences on the continentalization of FIFA and the creation of UEFA, 1926 – 1959,” Sport in society 20.10 (2017): 1424.

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1966, South America had hosted three World Cups compared to Europe’s five. On the field, it was a tie with four wins each. Moreover, there was a perception of a historical debt that FIFA owed to CONMEBOL. The South American countries continued their financial support for FIFA during World War II, and thus ensured the institution’s very survival.¹¹⁴ As a form of recognition, South America had expected to be awarded at least two more seats on the FIFA Executive Committee. The frustration was all the greater because the seats had been put on the table in the negotiations led by the institution for bringing the Football Association of Great Britain and the Football Association of Soviet Union back into FIFA.¹¹⁵ This is exactly why, when the FIFA statutes were being amended in 1960, South American leaders favored proposals to establish a weighted voting system over FIFA’s original model of one vote per country. In fact, the South Americans themselves had come up with the idea of amending FIFA’s statutes to curb the power of the Afro-Asian bloc.¹¹⁶ The South Americans wagered that a model that accounted for the political-sporting weight of their representatives would favor them. However, the difficulties seemed insurmountable – besides the problem of legitimacy, passing amendments in the Congress required a supermajority and there was no consensus on which model to adopt.¹¹⁷ Even so, the delegates from Argentina and Uruguay often brought up the problem of sporting-political inequality to the fore. João Havelange himself, in an interview to O Cruzeiro, was in favor of a weighted voting system at FIFA.¹¹⁸ There was no indication, at least not until 1968, that the Latin Americans would be able to lead the Afro-Asian bloc.¹¹⁹ Another challenge facing the continent was internal cohesion. In South America, soccer rivalries between sports leaders brought up latent tensions. The best example of how local rivalries affected the region’s development was

 Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Ordinary Congress of FIFA,” Minutes […], Bern, 1954. FIFA Archives, Zürich, Stephan Rinke. “Globalizing Football in Times of Crisis. The first World Cup in 1930,” in The FIFA World Cup 1930 – 2010: Politics, Commerce, Spectacle, Identities, ed. Stephan Rinke and Kay Schiller (Göttingen: Wallstein-Verlag, 2014).  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Ordinary Congress of Luxembourg, 1946,” Minutes […] (Luxembourg: 1946).  Ernst Thommen, “Report on Statutes Reform Committee Meeting”.  Otorino Barassi, The World Sports Organisation Requires Modernising.  “Havelange o candidato da Bélgica para o Comitê Olímpico Internacional,” O Cruzeiro, August 13, 1967.  The only exceptional experience was the choice of Mexico City as host of the Olympic Games in 1963. Mexico City was supported by communist countries, Latin America and African ones. Ariel Rodíguez Kuri, “Ganar la sede. La política internacional de los Juegos Olímpicos de 1968,” Historia Mexicana, 64 (2014): 243.

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the fact that during the 1950 World Cup in Brazil, Argentina’s national team did not even show up. Since the 1940s, the AFA and CBD had engaged in an open confrontation because of fights and episodes that occurred in South American tournaments.¹²⁰ Considering Brazil’s place in South America, the situation was even both more ambiguous and contradictory. Since its foundation, in 1916, CONMEBOL has had 13 presidents, only one of whom was Brazilian and only for a brief two-year mandate at that.¹²¹ The mistrust Brazilian Confederation and Spanish-speaking federations felt for each other far outweighed their common interests. The Spanish-speaking countries worked to curb Brazil’s desire to secure political hegemony on the continent. From the Brazilian camp, the Hispanic American leaders were mired in a series of stereotypes, such as cheaters, catimbeiros (players who taunt others or deliberately seek to slow down the game), brutes, etc., and viewed with a certain level of detachment.¹²² The defeat in 1966 put the continental disputes on hold. It is significant that in a moment of heightened tension in the Southern Cone, particularly in the relations between Brazil and Argentina, soccer officials, many of whom were directly linked to the bureaucratic core of the State, worked at building a support network.¹²³ In technological terms, the 1966 World Cup can be seen as a disruption. In that sense, 1966 was the first time that a non-European audience watched in large-scale the World Cup matches live and on television.¹²⁴ The European Broadcast Union (EBU) had paid the hefty sum of $800,000 to broadcast the World Cup. Today such a figure seems modest, but that was far from the perception in 1966.¹²⁵ An estimated 400 million people followed the tournament live. The large viewership shows how the World Cup already presented itself as a moment of nation-branding in which nation-states harnessed mega-events to advertise their brand on a global scale. Obviously, things did not always unfold as plan-

 Havelange himself as a water polo athlete was involved in a major fight at Argentina in 1949. A good inventory of those disputes might be find at Roberto Sander, Os anos 40: viagem à década sem Copa (Rio de Janeiro: Bom Texto, 2004).  Exception was José Alves de Freitas Neto who governed CONMEBOL between 1957 and 1959.  Of course that mutual mistrut was not only at soccer politics, but happened in a broader sense as Leslie Bethell shows in, “O Brasil e a ideia de América Latina em perspectiva histórica,” Estudos Históricos 22 (2009): 289, accessed March 5, 2022, doi: 10.1590/S010321862009000200001.  Matias Spektor, “O Brasil e a Argentina entre a cordialidade oficial e o projeto de integração: a política externa do governo Geisel (1974– 1979),” Rev. Bras. Polít. Int. 45 (2002): 117– 145.  Chisari, Fabio. “When football went global: Televising the 1966 World Cup,” Historical Social Research/Historische Sozialforschung (2006): 42.  Alex Gillet and Kevin Tennent, Foundations of Managing Sporting Events: Organising the 1966 FIFA World Cup (London: Routledge, 2016).

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ned. For British diplomacy, the World Cup had negative consequences in the short term. In this sense, plenty of material found in the archives of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office of International Affairs, formerly the British Foreign Office, on the impacts that event had in Latin America. This set of documents describes what was going on behind the scenes in the split between South America and the Stanley Rous presidency. In August, Caroline Patrie’ – a staffer at the Joint of Information Policy and Guidance Department – wrote a diplomatic cable addressed to 21 British embassies or consulates in Latin America and Europe.¹²⁶ Roughly speaking, London’s concern was focused on both Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires. However, the negative publicity had already reached some European capitals, such as Rome, Madrid and Lisbon, and even Francophone Africa. The paragraph below from the memo sums it up: There is no need for me to tell you (indeed some of you told us) that we have received some extremely bad press over the World Cup mainly in Latin America but also other parts of the worlds including Italy and French Speaking Africa. Many accusations have been levelled against the organizers of the competition and the fact that Sir Stanley Rous, president of FIFA, and the organizer of the competition is British, all this meant that Britain as a whole and not merely FIFA incurred in a greaty deal of odium (…) A wide variety of charge, many of them quite irrational, have been laid against us. The most widespread is that of an Anglo German plot designed to cheat Latin American football ouf ot is just rewards.¹²⁷

The documents in the British diplomatic fonds have a unique feature. They provide access to drafts and revisions that led up to the final version of a text. In the original document there was concern over French Africa, which later was omitted from the final cable. What can thus be inferred is that the issue was discussed internally, and it in the end the decision was to send the cable only to Latin American and European countries. However, the empirical example of “negative publicity” cited in the cable itself is an article taken from an African publication, Jeune Afrique. The article cited the Brazilian national team “England’s strongest opponent” – deliberately undermined at the hands of the English and FIFA. In this regard, it is worth noting two aspects of the news story.¹²⁸ First, unlike the articles found in South America, the focus of Jeune Afrique’s re Respectivly: Asunción, Bogotá, Buenos Aires, Caracas, Santo Domingo, Montevideo, Managua, La Paz, Lima, Mexico City, Panama City, Quito, Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo, San Salvador, Santiago, Madrid, Rome, Lisbon and Tegucigalpa. Caroline Petrie, Circular letter addressed to Latin America and Europe, (August, 1966). File: “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup.” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  Petrie, Circular letter to Latin America and Europe.  Petrie, Circular letter to Latin America and Europe.

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porting was not on Latin American countries as a whole, but specifically on how the Brazilian team had been wronged. Moreover, it was a direct attack by the British on Brazil. Second, and more general sense, Havelange’s base – Francophone Africa and South America – was outlined in as early as 1966. In this aspect, cultural identities preceded the construction of a political alliance. As soon as Havelange understood Brazil and the Brazilian team’s place in Africa, the Brazilian leader knew how to play with this duplicity: on that continent, he would present himself as the Brazilian, the representative of a multi-ethnic team and a prosperous nation, while at CONMEBOL meetings, Havelange would simply be the South American, not the Brazilian. Responses to the cable trickled into headquarters. In general, the tone of the answers was that of regret, as well as a general feeling of helplessness. In Italy, the British diplomat complained emphatically over the fact that United Kingdom had hosted the event at all: “the World Cup in England proved – as if proof were necessary – that a great way to damage international relations is to host a major sports competition.¹²⁹ From the Uruguayan Embassy, the diplomat wrote back, reporting episodes of physical violence: “the residence, the chancellery and the consulate are being bombarded with about three hundred anonymous phone calls a day, many virulent in nature, asking, among other things, how much we pay the German judges.”¹³⁰ The following anecdote, which fairly depicts how exasperated the British diplomatic corps was, took place on Brazilian soil. Amid the storm, the recreational section of the Guanabara Metalworkers Union wrote to the British Ambassador in Rio de Janeiro, requesting an English national team jersey “that had been worn by a player in one of the World Cup matches”.¹³¹ Following the memo’s recommendation, the ambassador agreed to grant the request. After writing to the Football Association, however, he realized that this was an impossible demand. After persistent urging, FA secretary Dennis Follows decides to send the jersey to the union, “in the hopes of improving England’s image in Brazil.”¹³² When sending the shirt to Rio de Janeiro, the  P. S. Fairweather, Reply to the circular letter, to the Joint Information Policy and Guidance Department (Roma, August 3, 1966). One letter, Arquivo “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup”, The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  British Embassy Montevideo, Reply to the circular letter, Joint Information Policy and Guidance Department (Montevideo, July 27, 1966). one letter, Arquivo “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup”, The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  Caroline Petrie, Letter to Dennis Fellows, Football Association Secretary (October 25, 1966). “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Letter to Dennis Fellows (October 7, 1966). “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.

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English diplomat made the obvious reservation that the shirt had never been worn in a World Cup match, but that if it were smeared in “Brazilian mud” and washed “two or three times,” the difference would be barely noticeable.¹³³ Besides England’s image in Latin America, the political issue, which involved FIFA and its president, permeates the documentation. The correspondence reveals that Stanley Rous tracked the discussions by telephone. At the request of the Information Committee, Rous drew up a statement to be circulated to the embassies. In it, Rous was sharp – especially with the Argentineans – and declared that he demanded a retraction, otherwise they would be excluded from the next World Cup and other international competitions held by FIFA. Rous stated that FIFA’s refereeing commission had already warned the South American countries that misconduct “like kind that happened in Chile” would not be tolerated and could not be repeated before a global audience. In conclusion, he accused South American officials of looking for “scapegoats” for their own teams’ failure.¹³⁴ FIFA’s documentation from the Referees Committee takes the same stance as Rous’s statement, objecting to the Argentines’ action and expressing support for the referees and the precedent.¹³⁵ Concerned about Stanley Rous’s situation at FIFA, English diplomats based in Latin America met with local soccer officials to learn about possible political moves. A few months later, in Buenos Aires, South American officials would meet at the South American Football Congress, and there were fears that they would organize a rebellion and demand structural changes to FIFA. British diplomats closely watched this meeting. In Uruguay, almost three months after the end of the World Cup, the vice-president of the local association continued to write in newspapers that FIFA and the tournament organization were responsible for the defeat of the South Americans.¹³⁶ In Argentina, the epicenter of the episode, diplomat R. A. W. Wright had lunch with Valentin Suarez, the AFA’s federal administrator at the time. To Wright’s chagrin, Suarez insisted on holding Rous accountable as the main person in charge of organizing the World Cup and for South America’s negative results. R. A. W. Wright himself had already written

 Dennis Fellows to Foreign and Commonwealth Office (October 11, 1966). One letter, “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  Stanley Rous, Statement, [1966]. One document, “Latin American Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  FIFA News (Spanish edition), number 30, August, 1966, 26.  British Embassy Montevideo, Correspondance (Montevideo: August 15, 1966). One letter, Arquivo “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.

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to back to his capital saying that, in Argentina, Rous was, in fact, the big villain. There was a joke in sports circles that FIFA was ruled by three people: Sir, Stanley and Rous.¹³⁷ Wright’s greatest fear was that the South Americans would use the event to “withdraw from FIFA,” something that was promptly dismissed by his informants. Nevertheless, there would be harsh criticism of Stanley Rous and pressure for changes to FIFA’s structure, “especially from the Brazilian side.” The most general complaint had to do with how FIFA scheduled referees. The South Americans felt that the decisions were centralized in the hands of Stanley Rous and that needed to end.¹³⁸ The Argentine case was certainly the most controversial. Losing to the English took on a local political color. Wright wrote, “Many newspapers, even the most moderate, associated the loss with the case of the Falkland Islands, it seemed clear to the Argentinians that the inventors of fair play and the gentlemen’s agreement had perpetrated a double theft.”¹³⁹ The image of a “theft,” which was mixed with the Falklands issue, brings the English and FIFA action closer to colonialism. Stronger in Argentina than in other countries of the region, this sentiment came to play a major role in the construction of a political alliance. It is not without reason that Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano addressed the history of the Anglo-German plot in his book, Soccer in Sun and Shadow. In 1966, Galeano was preparing the book, Open Veins of Latin America, a disavowal of imperialism that, in general terms, presents colonization as the Europeans plundering the Latin Americans. On the other side of the political spectrum, chronicler Nelson Rodrigues used the same rhetoric as Galeano. In his daily chronicles, he contrasted the image of the British as an unscrupulous empire with that of the underdeveloped Brazilians as timid, cowering, and ashamed.¹⁴⁰ Both authors, although defending different political positions, if

 British Embassy Buenos Aires, Correspondance, “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  British Embassy Buenos Aires, Correspondance, “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  British Embassy Buenos Aires, Reactions in Argentina following Argentina defeat against UK in semifinals of World Football Cup Tournament and Anti-British Manifestations addressed to Joint Committee of Information (Buenos Aires: August 15, 1966). One letter, The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FO371-184669.  To quote, for instance, Brazilian Journalist Nelson Rodrigues: “[…] England is preparing to win the golden cup at the whistle. Do you think there is any disguise, or scruples, or mystery? Absolutely. […] The referee was manipulated to settle the two-time champions first. And then the other South American countries. The England and Argentina game was a steal”. Originally publish in July 1966, reproduced at: A pátria de chuteiras (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1999).

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not diametrically opposed, were affected by a cultural environment of transformation, permeated by new ideas. By 1966, the image of Latin America as part of the Third World echoed in the cultural realm and was gaining support. Civil society movements linked to the Communist Party were the standard-bearers of the struggle against imperialism, but so were student associations.¹⁴¹ This language gained shape and consistency in the Latin American academic and political sphere starting in second half of the 1960s on, and this split between Latin America and Europe in FIFA should be seen as part of this broader context. In the case of soccer officials, interested in gaining more space within FIFA, this language of the third world and development progressively became part of their political lexicon. They freely incorporated elements of this language into their political practice.¹⁴² In other words, political identities are necessary for building political alliances. Narrated by the Galeano, this feeling was spreading and adjusted to create a sense of solidarity between the South American leaders and the countries of the Afro-Asian bloc. If the Third World was – to borrow Christopher Lee’s expression – “a community of feeling,” Latin Americans did not feel like they belonged to this universe. In the case of soccer politics, this sense of not belonging was underscored by the history of success that South American countries enjoyed, whereas the Third World identity is, in this sense, constructed from otherness, based on the premise that Europe was the common enemy to be defeated.¹⁴³ Therefore, none other than Havelange himself joined in protesting FIFA. At the British Embassy in Rio de Janeiro, diplomat J. W. A. Shakespeare acknowledged that there would be a protest against President Stanley Rous and FIFA in October, but he was unable to ascertain any information about significant changes in FIFA’s structure. J. W. A. Shakespeare did not spare any criticism on the head of the CBD, João Havelange.¹⁴⁴ Given to hotheaded and delirious behavior, Havelange was presented as the very embodiment of the continent: out of

 German Albuquerque, “Tercermundismo em el Cono Sur de América Latina: ideologia y sensibilidad. Argentina, Brasil, Chile y Uruguay, 1956– 1990,” Tempo e Argumento 6 (2014): 140 accessed March 5, 2022, doi: 10.5965/2175180306132014140.  Marcelo Ridenti, Em busca do povo brasileiro: artistas da revolução, do CPC a era da TV (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2000). Vijay Prashad, The darker nations: a people’s history of the Third World (New York: The New Press, 2008).  Christopher Lee introduction to Making a world after empire: The Bandung Moment and its afterlives by Christopher (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2010).  British Embassy Buenos Aires, Reactions in Argentina following Argentina defeat against UK in semifinals of World Football Cup Tournament and Anti-British Manifestations.

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control, he couldn’t hold back from inflating public opinion with lies just to secure his prestigious positions: Dear Caroline, It is lamentable to have to record that the most anti-British outburst here during the last few weeks have come from no less a personality than the president of Brazilian Football Confederation (C.B.D) himself, Senhor João Havelange. I will not weary you with a complete account of his ravings, but I am sure you will be interested to read the attached translation of his reported calumnies, which appeared in the Rio daily newspaper, Diário de Notícias. Sr Havelange‘s assertion that the results of the final and even semi-final matches were all part of a devious political plot by the British Government is so absurd that it invites only ridiculous and we decided that any counter-attack by us only be superfluous. […] I need hardly add that the reason for Sr. Havelange‘s ravings is transparently clear both to us and to all the more sensible Brazilians. Having lost his reputation as a result of his team debacle in the World Cup and in danger of losing his job he has been looking for a scapegoat. You may consider that such behavior is unworthy of a public personality – and you would be right – but this is Latin America!¹⁴⁵

In diplomatic documents, the British presented the Latin American views on the events as “delirious,” “sour grapes,” “entirely emotional” and “based on irrational reasons.”¹⁴⁶ Looking at it in this perspective, it was as if two ways of reading reality were placed on orthogonal planes: the rational – British and European par excellence – and the irrational – South American. In doing so, the British diplomats seem to forget an elementary fact: that they themselves were not entirely rational actors and carried their own emotional baggage. Another observation is that hysteria had no material reason (it was, therefore, a delirium) and led the British to dismiss it.¹⁴⁷ This episode, however, was not isolated, nor was it limited to the 1966 World Cup. The same “anti-British sentiment” would be reignited in the next few years at the Olympic Games in 1968 and the 1970 World Cup, both held in Mexico.¹⁴⁸ One of the explanations for the widespread nature of these episodes was that anti-US sentiment was intense in Latin America. The  J. W. A. Shakespeare, British Embassy Correspondance of United Kingdom on Rio de Janeiro addressed to the Joint Information and Guidance Department (Rio de Janeiro: September 12, 1966). One letter, “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  “Latin America Publicity for the World Cup,” The National Archives, London, United Kingdom, FCO 953-2334.  For the role of emotions in international relations, see Barbara Keys, “Henry Kissinger: the emotional statesman,” Diplomatic History, 35 (2011): 587. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24916333.  C. P. Hope, The politics of Football (August 18, 1970). Report written by C.P Hope on Mexico World Cup. 1970, by C.P. Hope s, one report, Arquivo “General matters arising from the World Football Championship in Mexico,” The National Archives, London, UK, FCO 71/1649.

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speculation thus suggests that in soccer events, where the United States was absent, that sentiment underwent a transformation to become anti-British. Nevertheless, there were reasons for Latinos to complain. Not infrequently, British sports delegations made clumsy statements charged with prejudice and stereotypes about Latin America. Alf Ramsey, in 1966, called Argentines “animals” on national television. In 1968, former track and field athlete Roger Bannister said that the games in Mexico City would be dangerous for the athletes and that someone would die in the competition, a statement that sparked a mass reaction from the Mexican press and public. In 1970, again, Latin “emotional hysteria” was all the greater. From the very beginning clumsy statements by England coach Sir Alf Ramsey inflamed Mexican fans to turn against England. While insisting on chalking the emotions up to “Latin hysteria,” the diplomats also included in one of their reports a recommendation that the Football Association “hire a public relations department.”¹⁴⁹ With relations frayed with Latin America, the Football Association’s report carried some discouraging news about the 1970 FIFA Congress. “From the point of view of the old and established national associations, this was an unsatisfactory Congress. Practically all of the discussion was dominated by the newly affiliated countries of Africa.” For the British federations, the situation was made worse as some deliberations countered their interests of directly attacking “autonomy.” One of the Ethiopian Football Association’s proposals sought to end the FIFA fee exemption reserved for the British associations since 1924, when that arrangement was struck.¹⁵⁰ The proposal was defeated 34– 33, but it raised the alarm of the British. The report ended on “a more pleasant note,” and carried the news that Stanley Rous had been re-elected president of FIFA. New influences were growing and looked increasingly strong. The rapporteur did not fail to warn that, in his opinion, “the 1972 Congress could be a watershed moment in the history of FIFA.”¹⁵¹ At this critical juncture, the dissatisfaction of the “new countries” converged with the South Americans’ feeling of disrepute, indignation, and revolt. This alliance would come to represent the end point of a long British dominance in international sports institutions.

 C. P. Hope, The politics of Football. British Consulate-General São Paulo, Carta do Consulado-Geral do Reino Unido em São Paulo ao Departamento de Informação (São Paulo: [1970]). One letter, Arquivo “General matters arising from the World Football Championship in Mexico,” The National Archives, London, UK, FCO 71/1649.  Claire Nicolas, Philippe Vonnard “Ohene Djan, a pan-africanist activist taking over FIFA?”, Staps 2019/3 (No 125), p. 49 – 68.  Football Association, Report of the Football Association HWT59/2 (Mexico City). One report, E480, Harold Thompson Archives, The Royal Society, London, United Kingdom.

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At the end of 1971, the year chosen to close this chapter, three Britons, two of whom were of noble origin, presided over the three main international sports associations: besides Stanley Rous, Lord Burghley – the Marquess of Exeter – the International Amateur Athletic Federation, and Lord Killianin, President of the International Olympic Committee. By the end of the decade, none of the three would hold office. Their departures would make room for three new leaders of Latin origin: first, the Brazilian João Havelange in 1974, at FIFA; the Spaniard Juan Antonio Samaranch, in 1980, at the IOC; and, finally, the Italian Primo Nebiolo, at the International Amateur Athletic Federation (IAAF), in 1981. The historical process that brought them to power converged. All three built alliances with peripheral countries, from Africa to Latin America, as well as the Arab bloc. Havelange was not just the first to achieve such a feat: his victory in 1974 ushered in a new political scene at international federations, in a broad overhaul of the international sports system. The legitimacy to act in the international public sphere is key at FIFA and the other international sports associations. Legitimacy draws mostly from the figure of the president, the face of the institution. Although FIFA delegates are not directly connected to national governments, national representation is often superimposed on them, as if they were carrying out official diplomatic relations. In this sense, it is as if the national representatives are empowered to step beyond the purview of their roles and take on the virtues of the country represented. In the political process, they become the countries they represent.¹⁵² Of course, these national symbols are not given a priori, and are transformed over time. In this sense, the image of the British as “lords,” which had been the hallmark and the thrust of the spread of sports from the nineteenth century until the mid-1960s, accounted for the British to enjoy significant prestige in sporting associations. Britain was the home of modern sports, and its leaders incorporated this history into their political action. This image was progressively undermined not only because of the decolonization processes and the crumbling of the British Empire, but above all the joint action of the Afro-Arab countries in the sporting federations during the 1960s and 70s. Trained in an aristocratic school, the British leaders often fostered openly racist opinions. In this context, African countries united around public criticism of apartheid were quite effective in superimposing racism and imperialism on the image of the British sports leader. International sporting events at the time became a point of tension for the British. In this sense, a British diplomat

 “A delegação e o fetichismo da representação,” in Coisas ditas, Pierre Bourdieu (Rio de Janeiro: Brasiliense, 1998).

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notes that “[…] international sport now only creates problems between countries, not the other way around.”¹⁵³ In this light, these events provided an opportunity for these countries to reject the backward positions of the English leaders by publicly confronting them with their arrogance and truculence. This unfavorable context was aggravated in the case of soccer. Starting in 1968, when the first episodes of violence by English fans abroad erupted, the image of English soccer was linked to hooliganism. In May 1974, less than two months before the decisive election, an episode involving Tottenham Hotspurs fans at the UEFA Cup final in Belgium swept across Europe. “A Nation of Thugs,” headlined the Daily Express on September 11, 1974. “We are no longer seen as the lords, the defenders of fair play. This is the new image of England abroad,” predicted the diplomat.¹⁵⁴ In less than a decade, the English made their way down the long road from civilization to barbarism. The British debacle was the stage on which Brazilian soccer emerged as Britain’s successor in the international soccer order. Not surprisingly, the match between Brazil and England at the 1970 World Cup is so remarkable because it brought antagonistic national representatives head-to-head at a critical moment. Multiracial, the Brazilian team was the very expression of racial democracy. This “mixture of races” on Brazilian soil clashed with what was read as the openly racist temperament of the British sports leaders. For the Brazilian government, sporting events had taken on a completely different meaning from that of the English. Itamaraty documents show how the corporate-military dictatorship was grateful for any chance to showcase the Brazilian national team in international sporting events. Therefore, Brazil’s 1970 World Cup victory was – to use historian Clement Astruc’s expression – “a convenient victory” because it enabled an authoritarian government to show itself off to the world as democratic and tolerant.¹⁵⁵ The matches of the Brazilian team became crucial moments for Brazil to appear in the international arena as a tolerant, multiethnic country, thereby drowning out the multiple human rights violations committed by Brazil’s government at the time. In this context, Brazilian soccer was not only synonymous with the beautiful game, but also with administrative organization, scientific preparation, and

 “General matters arising from the World Football Championship in Mexico”. The National Archives, London, UK: FCO 71/1649.  Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Report on the incidentes of Rotterdam in the match Feyenoord versus Totenham Hotspurs, 29th May of 1974 (London: [1974]). One report, The National Archives, London, UK. FCO 47– 683, “Totenham Hotspur Football Club visit to Netherlands for UEFA Cup Final”.  Clément Astruc, “Une victoire opportune,” Monde(s) 1 (2019): 193.

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technical development. Built in the 1950s and 1960s, Brazil had a set of new stadiums that were modern, robust and colossal. Along with Brasília and the imposing hydroelectric dams, the stadiums were the reified state of Brazilian development. For Havelange, the field had been cleared for him to become the representative of this “country of the future.” Before that, however, it will be necessary to understand how he reached this point.

Chapter 2 The administrator: politics and ideology in the making of a social legacy (1916 – 1970) […] I want to be remembered as an administrator. João Havelange¹

João Havelange, an extraordinary life? In a sense, João Havelange’s life was extraordinary. Born in Rio de Janeiro in May 1916, Havelange lived for a century and then passed away in August 2016. President of FIFA for two and a half decades, member of the International Olympic Committee for five decades, Olympic athlete in swimming (Berlin, 1936) and water polo (Helsinki, 1952), Havelange’s life experience was anything but average. For the contemporary world historian, this perception carries a paradox. Although Havelange’s biography deserves investigation, it is because it is linked to his own time. Examined under a microscope, Havelange’s life reveals how his path was intertwined with the historical experience of a certain social group in twentieth-century Brazil. Italian historian Edoardo Grendi’s notion of the exceptional normal can help to understand this contradiction. When working on historical periods where scarcity of documents is the rule, historians can make use of “exceptional” sources to understand the way of life of marginalized groups or regions that have left few traces for today’s historians to access. These documents may appear to be exceptional, but they could actually help to uncover the mundane and everyday ways of life. Grendi’s concept was really intended more for using historical sources than for piecing together biographies. In this vein, the best-known example of an exceptional normal document is the Inquisition trial record of Menocchio, the miller studied by Carlo Ginzburg, also an Italian and a disciple of Grendi’s. Drawing on his vast erudition, Ginzburg illustrates how that document, apparently hyperbolic and disconnected from the sixteenth century, is able to unveil the experience of the Italian subaltern groups who lived in that region. Ginzburg

 João Havelange, interview by Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda, Daniela Alfonsi and Carlos Eduardo Sarmento. Collection of the Brazilian Contemporary History Research and Documentation Center (CPDOC). https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-007

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ends up extending Grendi’s concept – the exceptional normal was not just a special document, but a marginal, borderline, extreme case.² As a general rule, the lives of dominant groups are relatively well documented, and their ways of life can be accessed in multiple ways.³ However, the concept of the exceptional normal, when applied to the social history of elites, acquires an extra advantage. Historically, political elites jealously guard their heritage because it is the justification of their own power and the legitimacy of their political actions in contemporary society. For this reason, there is a tendency to inflate how unique their life experience is. When the history of these individuals is brought back down to the earth, the tendency is to debunk these subjects and the groups they represent. Therefore, this alleged exceptionality, which would place these figures in a place of privilege by historical right, is deflated when the historian plops these individuals back into the social world. Many of Havelange’s biographies have made use of clichés to characterize him as “visionary,” “a man ahead of his time,” “determined and courageous,” etc.⁴ Reconnecting Havelange’s life to the experience of the twentieth century is a necessary task to deconstruct the sacred aura portrayals tend to shroud him in.⁵ Unlike such hagiographic readings, this chapter seeks to inscribe the set of ideas formulated by Havelange into a historical foundation. Therefore, the categories produced by Havelange are taken seriously, even if at first glance they sound absurd or comical at a first glance. It can even be said that Havelange was an intellectual, understood here quite simply as someone who produces and spreads a certain “worldview.”⁶ This worldview consists of a structured political system of values and beliefs, what historians and social scientists might refer to as a political ideology. Thus, it wouldn’t hurt to stress that Havelange’s political

 In Carla Silva, ed., Exercícios de micro-história (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2009), 19 – 38. On Menocchio, see Carlo Ginzburg, O queijo e os vermes (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2008). Carlo Ginzburg and Carlo Poni, “O nome e o como,” in Micro-história e outros ensaios, Carlo Ginzburg, (Lisbon: DIFEL, 1989) 169 – 178.  Flávio M. Heinz, “O historiador e as elites – à guisa de introdução,” in Por outra história das elites (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2006), 154– 165.  João Havelange – determinação e coragem (São Paulo: Editora Nacional, 1974), João Havelange – a FIFA no terceiro milênio João Havelange, o dirigente olímpico do século XX.  Pierre Bourdieu, “L’illusion biographique”, Actes de la Recherche en Sciences Sociales 62– 63 (1986): 69 – 72, accessed December 05, 2018, doi: 10.3406/arss.1986.2317.  This synthetic definition of intellectual was given by historian Carlos Altamirano, in Carlos Altamirano, Intelectuales: notas de investigación (Buenos Aires: Grupo Editorial Norma, 2007). Here, the concept of intellectual as someone linked to material relations was largely inspired by the work of Antonio Gramsci, Cadernos do Cárcere, v. 3 (Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 2000).

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ideology is strictly related to the institutions in which he moved throughout this process of social and political ascension. This chapter will shed light on the various institutions (political parties, sports associations, educational background) that were formative in João Havelange’s life, so as to better understand how his rise was actually achieved. That said, the purpose of this chapter is not to produce a detailed biography of Havelange, which would be an entirely different task from the one aimed at here. For now, the interest is in understanding Havelange’s rise within Brazilian civil society, his categories of thought and particularly the way he accumulated the resources necessary to run for president of FIFA. Along these lines, the problem between individual action and social context is clearly outlined. Here, “every social action is seen as the result of a constant negotiation […] before a normative reality that, notwithstanding its omnipresence still offers a wide range of interpretation.”⁷ The assumption is that if Havelange succeeded, it was because many of the individuals around him shared his values, his categories, his worldview. The product of an emerging political elite, the Havelange success story turned him into a living symbol of this social class. This chapter will be divided into four more general subsections arranged in chronological order to better meet the objectives listed. The first discusses Havelange’s family background, as well as the dissemination of sporting ideology at the turn of the twentieth century. The son of Belgians living in South America, Havelange grew up in the shadow of sports ideology, a member of the Fluminense Futebol Clube since the age of five. The second section discusses the transformations of sports in the 1920s and 1930s, and notes how the professionalization of soccer prevented Havelange from pursuing a career as a player. Nevertheless, it was the very process of professionalization of soccer that provided him the opportunity to rise as a sports manager. The third and last part addresses Havelange’s political climb within Brazilian civil society. A member of a technocratic elite, he became president of the CBD in 1957, right before Brazil’s first world title.

 Giovanni Levi, A herança imaterial (Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 2000).

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An indestructible body – becoming an Olympic athlete Almost everyone is gone. I am the one who’s left. I don’t know. God got to work. João Havelange⁸

Havelange’s parents emigrated from the industrial region of Liège, Belgium, to Brazil at the beginning of the twentieth century. The cradle of the so-called “second industrial revolution,” Liège’s economy was primarily based on mining (coal, zinc, copper) and the arms industry.⁹ It is no coincidence that João Havelange’s father, Faustin Joseph Godefroid Havelange, was involved in both of these activities. In the late 1890s, he graduated in mining engineering from the University of Liège. Close to 1900, Faustin chose Peru as his destination. Once there, he taught at San Marcos University in Lima and carried out a series of studies on the local coal and iron mines. In a world where the boundaries between business and intellectual activity were blurred, Faustin was both a professor and a diplomatic representative of the Belgian government, in charge of connecting Belgian industries with Peru’s raw materials.¹⁰ Soon after this experience, Faustin returned to Belgium, where he married Juliette Calmet Ludivine, the daughter of a zinc and copper industrialist. Regarding Juliette Ludivine, there is as little information about her as there is about Faustin Havelange. This is partly because Juliette was almost exclusively confined to domestic life, with limited participation in public events, precisely the kind that produce documentation. Around 1913, the couple decided to settle in South America and start a family in Brazil. Faustin had problems readapting to Europe, which were only aggravated by the atmosphere of tension in the prelude to the outbreak of World War I. After settling down in Rio de Janeiro, Faustin became a sales representative of Casa Laport – a Liège-based Belgian arms company whose franchise had consolidated and spread globally by the end of the nineteenth century. In Rio de Janeiro, Liège was known for its arms and ammu-

 João Havelange, interview by Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda, Daniela Alfonsi and Carlos Eduardo Sarmento. Collection of the Brazilian Contemporary History Research and Documentation Center (CPDOC).  Eric Hobsbawm, A era dos impérios: 1875 – 1914 (Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 2015).  Ernesto Carneiro Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007). See Vivaldo de Azevedo, “Depoimento de Paula Havelange – irmã e secretaria” in João Havelange – determinação e coragem (São Paulo: Editora Nacional, 1974), 17– 24. Eddy Stols, Luciana Pelaes Mascaro and Clodoaldo Bueno, ed., Brasil e Bélgica – cinco séculos de interação. (São Paulo: Narrativa Um, 2014).

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nition ever since Emperor Dom Pedro II’s trips to Belgium around 1880. Leveraging this prestige, Faustin made his career out of gunsmithing and established himself in Rio’s civil society.¹¹ The existence of a community of Belgian migrants, albeit small, but organized around political and cultural institutions and with established investments in Brazil, facilitated the Havelange family’s insertion in Rio de Janeiro’s civil society. Between 1830 and 1914, about six thousand Belgians immigrated to Brazil, a modest number when compared to that of the Italian, Portuguese, Lebanese and even Japanese immigrations. Although most of this population was represented by poor peasants, who settled in colonies in the western parts of Paraná and Santa Catarina, this group of immigrants stood out for large proportion of individuals with university degrees. Hundreds of engineers, technicians, mechanics, agronomists, accountants, in short, men with university degrees related to the industrial sector arrived here. This specialized labor force was generally categorized: part of it was linked to English or French industrial enterprises, which spread throughout Brazil in the late nineteenth century; most of it, however – as was the case of Faustin – came to Brazil by strength of Belgian investments in Brazilian territory.¹² A Belgian and an engineer, Faustin had a privileged position. One of the favorite destinations for Brazilian students in the early twentieth century was Liège. Thanks to its high population density of scientists and engineers, Belgium had a good reputation in enlightened Brazilian circles, which admired the country’s educational model. It should be added that Faustin was a sportsman. The trend for sports caught on quickly among the Belgian elite. For instance, it is worth recalling that the Belgian Football Association, created in 1884, was a founding member of FIFA. Faustin was not immune to soccer fever, and was a founding member of Standard de Liège, a Belgian soccer team that would establish itself as one of the largest in in the country throughout the twentieth century. Additionally, Casa Laport the manufacturer sponsored an annual shooting tournament in Rio de Janeiro, and Faustin would sell his guns to the Fluminense Fu-

 Eddy Stols, “Overview of Belgo-Brazilian relationships” (presentation at the Federal University of Minas Gerais, Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, September 20, 2005). Available at: http:// www.belgica.org.br/panorama.htm. Accessed July 25, 2019. Eddy Stols, “Brazil defends itself from Europe: its relations with Belgium (1830-1914)”. Boletín de Estudios Latinoamericanos y del Caribe 18 (1975): 57-73.  Eddy Stols, “Overview of Belgian-Brazilian relations”.

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tebol Clube team. A multisport, Faustin was a swimming coach to his sons João and Júlio. Both would qualify for the Olympic Games in the 1930s.¹³ In 1918, two years after João Havelange was born, the family moved from a townhouse in downtown Rio de Janeiro to a house in Cosme Velho, a neighborhood close to Laranjeiras. Faustin Havelange bought a membership to the Fluminense Futebol Clube, and his family started to attend. Unlike like the Paysandu and Rio Cricket clubs, which were exclusively for the British community, or Botafogo, a more national club, Fluminense was a “mixed club,” that welcomed foreigners or their descendants as well as people born in Brazil. At this hybrid club, the English, French, Belgians, Swiss, etc. mingled harmoniously with members of Brazil’s elite. In spite of this mix, Fluminense was a selective club. Monthly membership dues at Fluminense in 1915 were ten contos de réis. Furthermore, the Fluminense initiation fee cost twenty-five contos. For context, other clubs scattered around the city charged one or three contos.¹⁴ That said, boiling the selection process and mechanisms down to exclusively economic factors would be inaccurate. Fluminense membership required approval by a committee of inquiry. This committee evaluated the biography and resume of the applicant for membership. Additionally, applicants had to be nominated by another member, a sponsor. This ritual was intended to produce a sense of solidarity and class identity among the admitted members, and to exclude unwanted groups (especially, but not exclusively, Blacks). Even wealthy groups, such as the Portuguese or Lebanese migrant business class, for example, were left out. This symbolic control made Fluminense Futebol Clube’s board a crucible of the so-called traditional economic elites, those with a high level of cultural capital, whereas Clube de Regatas Flamengo (whose monthly dues were similar to those paid at Fluminense) was more open to the nouveau riche. ¹⁵ The Fluminense Futebol Clube’s economic development took place with the backdrop of the social, political, and cultural transformations of the 1920s. In

 Júlio, Havelange’s older brother, even qualified for the 1932 Olympic Games. On this occasion, most of the athletes, without personal resources to pay for the trip, and without state or BOC assistance, were forced to sell 45 thousand bags of coffee to pay for the trip. Those who could not meet their quota could not compete in the Olympic Games. Júlio was among the 45 athletes who stayed on the Itaquicê ship.  Leonardo Pereira, Footballmania: uma história social do futebol no Rio de Janeiro, 1902 – 1938 (Rio de Janeiro: Nova Fronteira, 2000).  Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui Soares Porto Rocha, “A outra razão: os presidentes de futebol entre práticas e representações” (Master’s thesis., Universidade Federal Fluminense, 2012). In particular chapter 3.

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Rio de Janeiro, a mass consumer market emerged as the city expanded. New social classes emerged and thus expanded the consumer market with new “habits of consumption and leisure.”¹⁶ Reflecting this dynamic, the number of Fluminense members quadrupled, all the while maintaining its selective profile.¹⁷ In the 1920s, Fluminense would host the main sporting event held in South America – the South American – Copa América, then called Campeonato Sul-Americano – championships of 1919 and 1922. Arnaldo Guinle, a Brazilian member of the IOC, patron and president of the club, managed to secure the funds necessary for Fluminense expansion. The club underwent a series of construction projects, of which Estádio das Laranjeiras can be considered the main sporting arena of these first sporting events. In 1918, in sight of the South American Championship the following year, Fluminense completed its stadium using materials almost entirely imported from Europe. Although soccer was the institution’s main activity, Fluminense presented itself as a multisport organization. Besides the stadium, the club had tennis courts, a multisport gymnasium, and a modern shooting range. In 1919, in the presence of President Epitácio Pessoa and other ministerial authorities, the inauguration of a 30-meter swimming pool became an event.¹⁸ In any case, Havelange would often say that his character and learning had been molded “by the club, school and family.” The club was a space for learning, identity and class solidarity – a moral community.¹⁹ Not by chance, one of

 Nicolau Sevcenko, “A capital irradiante: técnicas, ritmos e ritos do Rio” in História da vida privada no Brasil, v. 3, comp. Nicolau Sevcenko and Fernando Morais (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1998).  In 1916, Fluminense had 762 members. In 1931, this number reached 3,150. Renato Lanna Fernandez, “O Fluminense Football Club: the construction of a club identity in carioca soccer (1902– 1933)” (Master’s thesis., Center for Research and Documentation on Contemporary History of Brazil (CPDOC), Getúlio Vargas Foundation, 2010).  Renato Lanna Fernandez, “O Fluminense Football Club: the construction of a club identity in carioca soccer (1902– 1933)” (Master’s thesis., Center for Research and Documentation on Contemporary History of Brazil – CPDOC, Getúlio Vargas Foundation, 2010). Renato Lanna Fernandez, “The game of distinction: CA Paulistano and Fluminense FC: a study of the construction of club identities during the amateur phase of soccer in São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro (1901– 1933)” (PhD diss., Center for Research and Documentation of Contemporary History of Brazil – CPDOC, Getúlio Vargas Foundation, Rio de Janeiro, 2016).  The concept is freely inspired by Durkheim’s remarks about churches: “a college of priests is not a church, any more than a religious congregation would be one which left to some saint, in the shadow of the cloister, a particular cult. A Church is not simply a priestly confraternity – it is the moral community, formed by all believers of the same faith, both the faithful and the priests”. Émile Durkheim, The elementary forms of religious life: the totemic system in Australia (Rio de Janeiro: Martins Fontes, 1996).

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Arnaldo Guinle’s passions was scouting. Guinle, the abovementioned Fluminense patron, translated a series of books on this subject from French into Portuguese, and was one of the main promoters of scouting in Brazil.²⁰ In 1925, the club’s scouting section had an enrollment of 390 children. Even before he started swimming, Havelange was Fluminense scout. Among the activities practiced by these troops, charity was common. Every year, the Fluminense scouts engaged in campaign called “Christmas for the Poor Children,” aimed at raising funds for Rio de Janeiro’s needy children. The practice of charity established a clear social line, delimiting symbolic boundaries between those who belonged to a social caste and those who did not. Together with practicing sports, this set of social activities helped to forge a solid class identity, strengthening the emotional and social bonds between those in the echelons of the elite. Soccer had become a new item in European modernity that could not be ignored by the Brazilian elite and should therefore be practiced by people of equal social and racial condition.²¹ Similarly, fair play was the diacritical mark of this philosophy, which would quickly spread among these subsets of the ruling class in the early twentieth century. In the words of Pierre Bourdieu, fair play is characterized by the constant reminder that one had to “play the game without ever forgetting that the game is only a game.” “Chivalrous disposition,” the stance of those who know how to keep a “distance from the role,” fair play is the ethic that underpins and establishes the principles of amateurism.²² Precisely following the precepts of fair play means you cannot express emotions publicly. Celebrating a goal for your team or crying in public are equally reprehensible behaviors. This representation is a self-image that elites and hegemonic groups make of themselves and, as such, demands an effort in producing, selecting, and building memory. Hidden among Havelange’s collection, there is a photo of Havelange crying in public. These watery eyes were on the

 Wilson Gambetta Gambetta, “E a bola rolou: o velódromo paulista e os espetáculos de futebol, 1895 – 1916” (PhD diss., University of São Paulo, 2013).  Hilário Franco Júnior, A dança dos deuses. (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2007), 62– 63.  In a story that condenses quite well the meaning of fair play mythology, former Botafogo president Benjamin Sodré tells that there was a guy who had bothered him a lot because he cheered in an “offensive” way, with gestures, swear words, etc. on his side. At the end of the game, Benjamin, who was watching the game with Marcos de Mendonca, said he had received “the greatest compliment of his life”. The poet Anna Amélia said that “if I didn’t know that you were the president of Botafogo, I wouldn’t know which team you supported”. Benjamin Sodré, interview, Rio de Janeiro, December 4, 1973. Series of testimonials for posterity. Acervo Depoimentos para a Posteridade, Museu da Imagem e do Som do Rio de Janeiro, 1967.

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occasion of the grand opening of the Municipal Swimming Federation’s headquarters in São Paulo, in 1955, one of Havelange’s first successful acts as a sports manager. Havelange personally called two hundred friends and asked them for about $200 each to buy the space. After all the effort, Havelange burst into tears.²³ Even though this episode was decisive in Havelange’s life as a sports official, the photo of the event, although kept in his files, never appeared on the pages of the many books and biographies published about him. In practice, the mythology of fair play orbits around a virile galaxy. Accordingly, the narrative Havelange used to retell his own story often acquired fantastic overtones. “I don’t get hot or cold. I prepared myself to be here,” he told a reporter who expressed concern over his buttoned-up suit during a 1994 World Cup match in the 40-degree heat. In an argument with a UEFA official, Antonio Saporta, over ticket allocations for the 1986 World Cup opener, Havelange reportedly locked the room they were both in, and told the Spaniard he would not leave until the problem was resolved. “I can stay here for 72 hours without eating, without using the bathroom, and without drinking water. You, sir, can’t handle that, and you are going to die.”²⁴ Meticulously selected and repeated, these spectacular narratives cannot be detached from the ideology of fair play that disseminated in Brazil at the beginning of the century – they push the ideology of virility and self-control to the limit. Fair play basically hypes up an ascetic morality of work and virility to be instilled by a pedagogical practice acquired through bodily self-discipline, through which certain values, concepts, and worldviews are incorporated into individuals. The clubs, which in Brazil have occupied a space similar to that of public schools in England, are institutions in which this virile masculinity is taught and reproduced. In these spaces, through discipline, work and the cult of the body, men learn how to be masters of themselves.²⁵ In producing a shared imaginary, the construction of this class identity underwent the work of sentimental education. Created in the clubs, the solidarity of these segments of the dominant class reinforced and produced a sharp gender division. Modern sports were originally set out as activities for males. In the words of Coubertin, the founder of the Olympic Games, subjecting women to

 This story, although very interesting and crucial for his ascension, is an episode little explored in the biographies about Havelange. It appears only in the Interview of the Museu da Imagem e do Som, 1967.  José Mário Pereira and Silvia Marta Vieira, ed., João Havelange, the sports leader of the twentieth century (Rio de Janeiro: Casa da Palavra, 2010).  Wilson Gambeta, “E a bola rolou: o velódromo paulista e os espetáculos de futebol, 1895 – 1916”.

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physical exercise would be “excessive.” In his concept, the Olympic hero was masculine. Now, the effect of “excluding” women was not limited to preventing them from occupying positions and spaces of power, but also to strengthen male bonding. Once women and other unwanted groups were excluded, solidarity could be horizontal l – a space where men learned to love and admire each other. This process enabled the convergence of antagonistic pairs, such as manliness and affection. Showcasing these morals, the individual body is the locus where these social representations are coded.²⁶ Not surprisingly, inasmuch as Halvelange concealed the photos of him crying, on numerous occasions he let himself be shot in pictures revealing his bare back. Whether young, adult, or old, the photos of Havelange running along the beach were frequently published in the press. The two photos chosen suggest such an adoration for one’s own body. In the first, Havelange is waterskiing in the Rodrigo de Freitas Lagoon around the 1950s. In the second one, he is holding tight his friends at Fluminense. Havelange’s body certainly tells a story. The expansion of modern sports in Brazil was based on the ideological foundation of eugenism that was being disseminated at the time.²⁷ In a kind of eugenic relationship, sports would train those chosen by the working and cult of the body. At the very least, the goal here was to have an indestructible body, resistant to the passage of time. In the words of historian Leonardo Pereira, “personal hygiene would be a form of redemption for Brazilians, supposedly impoverished by centuries of inertia and laziness.”²⁸ The power of this ideology – which can be summed up by the mantra of mens sana in corpore sano – was expressed by Havelange’s own life. There are several situations where Havelange came face to face with death, but, at the last minute, he survived. Now, this longevity was attributed to the existence of a healthy body, the product of the discipline and asceticism with which he led his own life. In an interview granted to France Football right before his election to the presidency of FIFA, Havelange told the reporter that the doctor ordered him to cut down on exercise because he was getting

 Georges Vigarello, “Virilidades esportivas” in História da virilidade: a virilidade em crise, comp. Alan Corbin, Jean Jacques Courtine and Georges Vigarello. (Petrópolis: Vozes, 2013).  Jackson Jr, Gregory E. Building the New Brazilian Man: Football, Public Policy and Eugenics, 1894– 1950. Diss. State University of New York at Stony Brook, 2013. GOELLNER, Silvana Vilodre; VOTRE, Sebastião Josué; PINHEIRO, Maria Claudia Brandão. ‘Strong mothers make strong children’: sports, eugenics and nationalism in Brazil at the beginning of the twentieth century. Sport, Education and Society, v. 17, n. 4, p. 555 – 570, 2012.  Leonardo Pereira, Footballmania, 132.

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older and needed to take care of himself. Havelange decided to ignore the doctor’s instructions, doubled the distance he swam, and in doing so lost five kilos and lowered his blood levels (cholesterol, glucose, etc.). The doctor would have been impressed with Havelange’s results. Another story he liked to tell was about how he overcame typhoid fever. The story goes that a doctor told his mother, “Save one in a thousand.” This almost unbridled discourse Havelange’s resilience in the face of disease and the passage of time bolster the legitimacy of his own social position. His healthy body almost rightfully guaranteed his superior social position.²⁹ A background as a successful athlete was crucial in the economic and political climb within Brazilian society (and internationally). Wherever he went, Havelange spieled his feats, and in return gained the admiration of his own peers, many of whom came from similar social backgrounds and partook in the ideology of fair play. Being admired by one’s peers was, therefore, the first and necessary step in upward social mobility. Moreover, historiography on elite formation has paid little attention to understanding the spaces (elite schools, golf clubs, sports associations) for social and identity formation among dominant classes as elements of the reproduction of the material world itself. Havelange himself stresses this point of view when he stated, “The friendships I made in sports were very important for my political career.” Years later, when he moved to São Paulo, Havelange would go the Floresta Club, also a space for the São Paulo elite, where he played water polo. Mingling in these places gave him a privileged position in his ability to forge good relationships with other individuals in the Brazilian elite in the main power centers, Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo. However, in order to leverage this advantage, he would need to follow his father’s advice: it was high time he gave up soccer and embrace swimming and Olympic sports.

From law school to swimming pools Havelange grew up playing soccer. A member of the Boy Scouts, he became state champion for Fluminense’s junior soccer team in 1931. Standing 1.90 meters (6 feet, 3 inches) tall, he took advantage of his physical stature to play the left fullback. Although he could have advanced in soccer, he preferred to give it

 “Havelange: 24 heures”, interview by Max Urbine and Alain Corbin, France Football, French and African edition, August 15th 1972. The story of typhoid fever is told in Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007), 26.

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up the to fulfill his father’s request. The hunch that this story was invented as a response to those who criticized Havelange’s performance at the head of CBD and FIFA for “not understanding anything about soccer” falls apart upon reading reports that he deliberately gave up soccer in 1932. In Havelange’s first interview, he mentions his “underwhelming” swimming results, which had improved thanks to training. At the time, Havelange had just become the Brazilian 400 m record holder and was aiming for the South American record.³⁰ His father asked him to leave the pitch in 1932. Varying versions of this story have been told on different occasions. In the most dramatic one, Havelange’s father made a final request on his deathbed. “Don’t forget to be prepared when you go to the Olympic Games,” he is reported to have said. Held in the CPDOC (Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação de História Contemporânea do Brasil or Center for Research and Documentation on the Contemporary History of Brazil) collection, the story of his pullout from soccer and embracing of swimming was told as follows:³¹ J.H. – No. Nothing, not at all like that. [regarding his parents’ adaptation to Brazil] Then he became a member of Fluminense, I would go there when I was a kid, I learned to swim there, I was a swimmer at Fluminense, then I played in the youth soccer championship, in nineteen thirty-… C.S. – In 1932. J.H. – In 1932. And we were champions. And, you see, I must have been sixteen. So, at that time, it was the first year that professional games started, and the champion here in Rio was Bangu, which had three unforgettable players: Domingos, Médio and Ladislau. Domingos was the greatest fullback Brazil’s ever had, Médio was a midfielder, and Ladislau was what they called an inside right at the time. Three formidable men. And Bangu was the champion. And my father wouldn’t let me play soccer anymore. Because, you see, my father was an engineer; my mother, from an industrial family in Belgium, so they spotted problems from the outset. Nowadays, everybody wants to get one of their sons to be a soccer player, because he might earn a fortune overnight, isn’t that right? So, you see how the world has changed. C.S. – But why didn’t your father want you to play soccer? J.H. – Because of the professionalism.³²

 See João Havelange, Havelange’s Notebook (1930s). One notebook. [c.1930], Archive of the Brazilian Olympic Committee, Rio de Janeiro, Morning Mail. Interview clipping, Havelange, 1932, one newspaper clipping.  This version appears in José Mário Pereira and Silvia Marta Viveira, ed., João Havelange, the sports leader of the 21st century (Rio de Janeiro: Casa da Palavra, 2010), 189.  Interview Havelange (part I) by Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda and Daniela Alfonsi, archived in the Museu do Futebol – São Paulo.

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In the words of Paul Dietschy, “the advent of professionalism did not only bring about a change in legal status, but also social and political problems.”³³ The practice of soccer was not seen as a feasible political option for second-generation athletes from the wealthy classes. It is symptomatic that this was a family decision, and not an individual one. In the 1920s and 30s, the advent of professionalism represented the rise of marginalized groups, from which Havelange and his Fluminense teammates were supposed keep a distance. Not surprisingly, Havelange himself mentions the three Black brothers from Bangu, the players Ladislau, Médio, and Domingos. A subtle chronological confusion reinforces the strength of this symbol. Actually, Bangu was not the champion in 1932, but in 1933. Havelange makes no distinction because he treats both years as being part of the same process – a mash-up of the year he gave up soccer (1932) and the year that professionalism came to the fore (1933). The individual process is inscribed in a collective dynamic and, for this reason, Havelange shuffles the dates, swapping the characters around. Domingos da Guia had already left Bangu by 1932, when he transferred to Vasco da Gama. Bangu was a workingclass club whose ranks were filled with laborers and Blacks, and its “three brothers” are living symbols of this new phase of soccer, the spectator sport. In this symbolic arrangement, they represented the emergence of a new world in which Havelange’s social place was off the pitch. He was left with the role of soccer manager.³⁴ Challenged by outsider sectors, the professionalization of spectator sports and the broadening of the sporting workforce meant that these elite groups progressively lost their monopoly on the practice of soccer, which led them into a trend of continuous disengagement. This was undoubtedly an ideological choice, embraced by various ruling groups and regulated by FIFA. For the ruling groups, risking themselves in a sports clash with the lower classes could come at a cost, indeed. In soccer and sports in general, the speed at which stories about losses on the field make their way off it and spark all sorts of theories about character, political power, leadership skills, etc., is astonishing. Were a team made up exclusively of members of the ruling classes to endure a successive series of on the field, it could raise questions about the symbolic legitimacy of social at elites, or at least spin stories that would fit such observations. Since hold-

 Paul Dietschy, Histoire du football (Paris: Tempus Perrin, 2018).  About Domingos da Guia and the Bangu brothers, the reference is Aidan Hamilton, Domingos da Guia: o divino mestre (Rio de Janeiro: Gryphus, 2005).

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ing onto the monopoly over the practice of soccer was impossible, disengagement was the risk-free option.³⁵ Sports ideology was already a part of life among the wealthy classes. The solution for them, therefore, would be to give up soccer and invest the political, economic, and symbolic resources they had left in other sports practices. Some sports, such as rugby in São Paulo, were restricted to families of English descent. One conclusion that can be drawn is that rugby chose not to be professional so that it could remain a confined sport.³⁶ What is certain is that the growth of professionalization and spectacularization in other sports only intensified the ongoing search for exclusive spaces. The last frontier of spectacularization and professionalization were the sports with higher costs for equipment, membership, free time, etc. A previous survey of Flamengo and Fluminense officials revealed even younger individuals practicing sports such as sport fishing, yachting, golf, etc., almost all of which entail a high cost to practice. Beyond building character, what these groups were looking for were sporting niches where they could strengthen their ties of solidarity, forge friendships, and cultivate a shared worldview, all of which were fundamental activities for maintaining the status quo. In the 1930s, swimming was a feasible option for Havelange. Given how popular soccer had become, the elite groups who had controlled the practice of soccer until then realized that they no longer had a monopoly over the sport. In this state of affairs, they would have to turn their attention to strengthening and consolidating their monopoly over the organization of soccer. The main mechanism they had available for excluding the poorer segments of the population was to maintain the amateur status of sports managers. Doing so would avoid, amongst others, the creation of exclusively low-income clubs where the marginalized groups would be both the practitioners and the managers of the spectacle.³⁷ The dominant clubs each had different strategies in this regard. Many of the foreign clubs in Rio de Janeiro decided to close their doors to professional soccer. However, the majority of them – as is the

 Eduardo P. Archetti, Masculinities: football, polo and tango in Argentina (Oxford: Berg, 1999). Simoni Lahud Guedes, O Brasil no campo de futebol: estudos antropológicos sobre os significados do futebol brasileiro (Niterói: EdUFF, 2012). Christian Bromberger, Football: la bagatelle plus sérieuse du monde, (Paris: Bayard, 1998). On disengagement and the so-called “functional democratization of soccer”, see Arlei S. Damo, Futebol e identidade social: uma leitura antropológica da rivalalidade entre torcedores e clubes (Porto Alegre: Editora da UFRGS, 2002).  See Victor Sá Ramalho Antonio, “Passe pra trás! Os primeiros anos do rugby em São Paulo (1891– 1933)” (Master’s thesis., University of São Paulo, 2017).  Nelson Motta, Fluminense: a história da breve e gloriosa máquina de jogar futebol (São Paulo: Geração Editorial, 2005).

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case of Fluminense Futebol Clube – kept professional soccer activities going, even though the symbolic divide between members and soccer players gradually widened. At Fluminense itself, the official story is that players were supposed to use the service entrance, not the members-only entrance. This custom would not be challenged until the mid-1970s, when Paulo Cezar Caju was hired by Francisco Horta and started to publicly question this social rule. In the Brazilian case, skin color defined the hierarchy of social relations. This came up because although Blacks and people of mixed-race occupied the main positions on the soccer field or spectacle, most managers were white. National frameworks aside, FIFA’s role in regulating the professionalization of the spectator sport should not be overlooked. It is worth remembering that soccer was one of the first sports to become professionalized – the pioneering experience of English soccer, which had become professionalized by the end of the nineteenth century, certainly served as a benchmark.³⁸ Thanks in large part to pressure from Central European delegates at the 1924 Paris Congress, FIFA allowed its entities to practice professional soccer. As previously mentioned, most of FIFA’s leaders and delegates were liberal professionals – teachers, engineers or doctors – who believed in the creed of liberal professions, and thus did not resist the professionalization of players. In this case, they performed a delegation move – FIFA began authorizing the national associations to allow players to have salaries, without the associations interfering directly in the matter. Federations that by philosophy chose to continue as amateurs (Sweden, the Netherlands, and even Germany, and later Eastern European countries during the Cold War) or a larger number still of federations without the economic resources to adopt professionalism (this was the case of federations in countries where soccer was still fledgling), could remain so.³⁹ The International Olympic Committee, however, did not take such a stance and advocated maintaining the amateur status of Olympic sports. Other international sports organizations adopted a similar tack as that of the IOC and vetoed the professionalization of their athletes. The World Cup, a spectacle open to difference and diversity,

 Cricket and soccer were the first sports to professionalized in England. Others, such as rugby, insisted for years on an amateur ethic, check Sport and the British: a modern history (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990).  Gregory Quin, “Une premiere elite du football européen (1904– 1956) ou les premices du champ footballisque européene,” (Rapport postdoctorale, Lausanne: 2012).

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would be a competition for the best male soccer players in the world, whether professional or amateur.⁴⁰ Nevertheless, the “rules of amateurism and professionalism” written by FIFA officials upheld the requirement that club presidents and officials should not be allowed to profit off soccer, and thus must remain amateurs. Even among FIFA’s staff of liberal professionals, the ideology that sport ought to appear to be a field apart from material life persisted. It is true that managing FIFA or other sports associations was not supposed to be a purely business, but rather volunteer activity. Being a sports director was, therefore, a vocation. In the worlds of Jules Rimet, disseminating sports was something noble, the equivalent of “chivalry” in the modern world. Just like in the Brazilian case, it was a strategy for consolidating and maintaining positions of power and control in the hands of a certain social group.⁴¹ In FIFA typified the problem in its own regulations as follows: […] whatever the status of the player, for a club to be affiliated to one of FIFA’s associations it must be governed exclusively by amateurs and may not serve as a source of profit for them, or for those who have invested in the club in any way. Those who wish to lend money to clubs may not charge an interest at a rate greater than three quarters of the regulated interest rate in the national territory.⁴²

The concern over loans was not unwarranted, as this was the main loophole in the amateur rule. The point is that FIFA members did not have specialized personnel to oversee the affiliated associations. The following year, in 1925, Secretary-General Hirschman wrote a memo addressed to the National Federations to follow up on how the professionalism issue was progressing in their respective countries. In a type of questionnaire, one of FIFA’s questions was whether they had succeeded in ensuring that their officials were abiding by the amateurism rule.⁴³ The FIFA regulations acted as a normative model to be adopted by the various national associations. As such, it could be used at any time to exclude clubs or national associations that violated the rules. In Europe, the timeline for the

 Paul Dietschy, “Le football et les jeux olympiques (1896 – 1936)”, in: Le pouvoir des anneaux: Les Jeux Olympiques à la lumière de la politique, comp. Pierre Milza, Philippe Tétart and François Jequier (Paris: Vuibert, 2004), 161– 181.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, Fédération Internationale de Football Association, 1904-1929, Amsterdam: J. H. de Bussy, 1929.  FIFA, “Rules of amateurism and professionalism”, FIFA Congress, (Paris, 1924). FIFA Archives, Zurich.  C.W.A Hirschman, Circular letter addressed to all National Associations, number ten (December, 1925). One circular letter, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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adoption of professional soccer shows the impact of the 1924 Congress. That same year, the first professional soccer championship was held in Austria. Subsequently, professional soccer spread to Hungary and what is now known as the Czech Republic. In the second half of the 1920s, “Latin Europe” would professionalize, starting with France, followed by Spain and Italy. Outside Europe, professional soccer leagues appeared in the United States at around the same time – much of it financed by Jewish capital of Central European émigrés. To provide a better sense of how powerful these clubs were, the American leagues were even able to recruit from among the best players in Central Europe.⁴⁴ In South America, professionalism would be adopted a little later, in the first half of the 1930s – first in Argentina and Uruguay, then in Brazil. The point is that keeping managers in the amateur status should not be seen – as has often been the case in the literature – as being unique to Brazil, a symbol of its “archaic” soccer administration. Part of a global action, this split was part of a strategy devised by FIFA and the other federations for the soccer managers to reap as much symbolic profit as possible from the victories of their respective clubs and national teams. FIFA established a clear line between those who managed (the presidents, unsalaried amateurs) and those who were managed (in this case, the salaried professional players). Here, money was a differentiator that created hierarchies, while also keeping the lower classes out of leadership positions at the clubs. In Brazil’s case, this hierarchy appeared in the form of a racial divide between managers and players. The rigid social boundaries that kept Havelange from becoming a soccer player were precisely the lines that led him down a successful path as a sports manager. In this career he managed to accumulate the symbolic resources necessary to make his case to become the president of FIFA. Ultimately, the global shift to the professionalization of soccer was a symptom of a new phase of mega-sporting events and the transformation of sports into a global commodity. The intensification of this trend was as intertwined with the agency of world markets as it was with how national states were leveraged. As a competitive swimmer Havelange had a front-line view of these changes in sport. Insofar as IOC officials wanted to shield athletes from professionalization, the Olympic Games were not immune to the spectacularization of sport. Havelange kept a scrapbook between the ages of 13 and 20 (1929 – 1936). This record opens a window on the mentality of the period. This diary of sorts includes a series of photos and newspaper clippings by Johnny Weissmuler. En-

 For a chronology of the adoption of professional soccer in Europe, see Paul Dietschy, Histoire du football (Paris: Tempus Perrin, 2018).

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dowed with a “perfect body,” Weissmuller was five-time gold-medalist between the 1924 and 1928 Olympic Games.⁴⁵ Hollywood had started to systematically recruit athletes to act in films. Weissmuller was invited to play the role of Tarzan, which would make him the very face of the 1930s. The interconnections between the entertainment industry and the sporting star system began to surface by the 1932 Olympic Games in Los Angeles.⁴⁶ Not only did the relationship between the entertainment industry and sports emerge in the 1930s, but so did that of national states with sport mega-events (SMEs). As an athlete, Havelange participated in the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games. When asked about the event, Havelange preferred to leave the political uses of the Berlin Games aside. His canned “I don’t get not involved in politics” frustrated many an interviewer, and Havelange would segue into praise for the German organization, the first operas he attended, etc. When anyone insisted for an answer, Havelange would get visibly irritated and quickly change the subject. Havelange’s scrapbook displays not only the photos he selected, but also how politics was everywhere. One page has a postcard of Jesse Owens, the main star of that year’s Olympic Games. There’s also a hand-cut photo series of the stadiums used in the 1936 Olympic Games, illustrating the grandeur of the event. On July 16, 1936, upon arriving at the Berlin train station, athletes were greeted by a lieutenant colonel of the German army. It must be said that all the athletes who stepped on the podium at the 1936 Olympic Games – including the only Jewish medalist, Helene Mayer – were forced to raise their right arm upon receiving their medal. Two years later, Havelange’s future opponent, Stanley Rous, would go through an analogous but slightly more embarrassing situation, which sparked a moral crisis on the English team. In 1938, during a friendly match between Germany and England on German territory, the English team greeted the Berlin stadium with the traditional gesture to pay tribute to the Führer. In captain of the F.A. team Eddie Hapgood’s version of the story, the players performed the gesture at the behest of Stanley Rous, the then secretary of the Football Association and head of the delegation. Although the team did not agree with the secretary, there was a consensus that the best thing to do was to acquiesce to avoid greater problems. Bringing up either of these cases is not about making value judgments, but rather about perceiving how the interconnection between politics, economics, and sports leveraged the mega sporting events. Liv João Havelange, Notebooks of João Havelange, 1929-1936, Library of the Brazilian Olympic Committee, João Havelange Collection.  Barbara Keys, “Spreading peace, democracy, and Coca-Cola®: Sport and American cultural expansion in the 1930s,” Diplomatic History 28 (2004): 165.

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ing amid the effervescence of the 1930s, Rous and Havelange understood relatively well how sports could be taken to new heights with the backing of national states. For Havelange, the experience of the Berlin Olympic Games was formative. Although Havelange participated in the 1952 Olympic Games in Helsinki – the first to include teams from Soviet Union – they seem to play a minor role in his biography compared to the prominence of the 1936 Olympic Games. In his private collection, the Berlin 1936 iconographic collection accounts for a large part of the material. Having endured Brazil’s brand of disorganization in the runup to the Games, the Berlin Olympics were a kind of turning point for Havelange. From that point on he was aware of his own “mission” – the time had come to do something for Brazilian sports.

The global Cold War and the Brazilian elite self-image Those men were in such a state that they couldn’t even kick. There was one player who wore an ill-fitting denture over some shards of teeth. If he didn’t get treated, he would get cancer in his mouth or some other diseases […]. I fixed everything. João Havelange on the 1958 national team⁴⁷

In interviews with Havelange, journalists and academics had a recurring question: how would he like to be remembered? As a rule, the answer was the same, “as an administrator. In my life, I have tried to teach the value of administration.” At first blush this answer is banal, however it raises several reflections. Referring to the purchase of the CBD headquarters as the first act of his management, Havelange ends with an expression: “that’s administration.” Building a headquarters or buying a building was, in fact, a hallmark of Havelange’s administration. Whenever he presided over an institution, this was his first act of governance.⁴⁸ The headquarters was the material showcase of the institution, which became enmeshed with the image of the president himself. Havelange even named the CBD building “João Havelange building.” Beyond the symbolic aspect, Havelange understood wealth and property as synonymous

 José Mário Pereira and Silvia Marta Viveira, ed., João Havelange, the sports leader of the 21st century (Rio de Janeiro: Casa da Palavra, 2010).  This was the case in the CBD, in the Brazilian Swimming Federation and in FIFA. In all three institutions, Havelange went after new headquarters as the first act of his government.

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terms. Primarily associated with economics, the administrator’s realm is outside of politics.⁴⁹ The social roots of this ideology must be understood through a historical lens and should not be seen as anything special. Havelange was part of a new emerging urban elite, whose schooling and political education took place in the context of the civilian Estado Novo dictatorship, but he rose in the public sphere and went on to occupy the main political positions in a mass democracy. Understanding this disconnect between acting in the democratic public sphere and authoritarian schooling is crucial for analyzing Havelange’s participation at the head of the CBD. In Brazil, the Estado Novo regime (1937– 1945) was the moment that the state and administrative bureaucracy crystalized and strengthened. A centralizing regime, the Estado Novo was responsible for “exalting technique over politics, where the latter was portrayed as the dirty side of private interests. Technical and scientific knowledge were held as loftier ways of dealing with national problems.”⁵⁰ The flipside of a technicist ideology, however, is that it makes little to no room for popular objection. How does one contest a leader’s decisions claimed to be based on scientific methods, not on political choices? Havelange’s biography and thinking were affected by this universe of state organization and the formation of a bureaucratic field in Brazil of the 1930s. A sensitive and seldom studied point in his career is his education as a law student. In 1936, he specialized in “labor laws” (he used this very expression in a 1966 interview) to start his career at Viação Jabaquara, a bus enterprise, around 1940.⁵¹ Havelange was 20 at the time and, as far as can be gathered, did his main theoretical and methodological readings there. Havelange’s specialization in Corporate/Labor Law is not a fluke and should be associated with the historical moment the country was going through. In the words of Ângela de Castro Gomes, the 1930s and 1940s is when what she calls a “policy for organizing the labor market”⁵² was created in Brazil. Living and working in such a context, Havelange  This version appears in Pereira and Viveira, ed., João Havelange, the sports leader of the 21st century. It also appears in the biography written by Ernesto Rodrigues: Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).  Maria Celina D’araujo, Estado Novo, (Rio de Janeiro: Zahar, 2000), 35 – 36. See also Ângela de Castro Gomes, comp., Engenheiros e economistas: uma nova elite econômica (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 1994).  João Havelange, interview (Rio de Janeiro, October 10, 1967), in Series of testimonials for posterity, Acervo Depoimentos para a Posteridade collection, Museu da Imagem e do Som do Rio de Janeiro, 1967.  Ângela de Castro Gomes, “Ideologia e trabalho no Estado Novo” in: Repensar o Estado Novo, comp. Dulce Pandolfi (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 1999), 55.

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must have discerned a market opportunity. However, the transformations the country was undergoing would produce a profound change in mentality, which would have an impact both on the public sphere and on Havelange’s own life. In a country with a four-hundred-year history of slave labor, “the liberal formulation that associates the act of working with wealth and citizenship had always been absent from the country.”⁵³ With the emergence of the Estado Novo, the category of labor as being endowed with intrinsic value is displaced to the center of the public arena. Besides championing changes in legal systems (especially civil and labour code), the Vargas regime⁵⁴ aimed at producing a “new Brazilian man.” The creation of the Ministry of Education and Health, under the supervision of Gustavo Capanema, was fundamental to molding this new man. Under the Ministry of Education and Health, physical education was included in the new list of practices the Estado Novo considered to be positive. Sports were a vital part of this project’s goal of invigorating the worker and the Brazilian race.⁵⁵ This took the form of an expansion of the bureaucratic apparatus and increased economic investment in sports. The government took it upon itself to organize the 1938 World Cup, for instance. For the first time, Brazil sent a full national team to compete in the tournament and obtained an unprecedented third place. In 1942, an executive order institutionalized the CND (National Sports Council, per its abbreviation in Portuguese), a body that reported to the Ministry of Education and Health.⁵⁶ The association between sportsmanship and the formation of workers was a common agenda on the minds of the leaders of Estado Novo regime. Through civic education, workers would learn to abide by the general rules of society, obey authorities (coaches and managers) and respect hierarchies and laws. At the same time, sports contributed to nation-building in the material aspect, since worker-athletes are more fit to endure the hard day-to-day work in the factories.⁵⁷ In a way, the creation of the Estado Novo’s “new Brazilian man” resonated with the hygienic-sporting theories that were disseminated at the turn of the

 Gomes, “Ideologia e trabalho no Estado Novo,” 55.  Getúlio Vargas ruled Brazil from 1930 to 1945, his government is considered to be an example of the so-called Latin-American populist. In Brazil, Vargas was responsible to develop a legislation to regulate social labor.  Victor Andrade de Melo, “Educação Física e Estado Novo (1937– 1945): a Escola Nacional de Educação Física e Desporto”, Ef. Deportes Revista Digital, 115 (2007): 115.  Eduardo Dias Manhães, Políticas esportivas no Brasil (Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 2002).  Denaldo Alchorne Souza, “Para frente, Brasil!” Do Maracanazo aos mitos de Pelé e Garrincha, a dialética da ordem e da desordem (1950 – 1983) (São Paulo: Intermeios, 2018), 85 – 86.

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twentieth century and that left a deep mark on Havelange’s childhood and youth. This time, the State itself – instead of civil society entities such as soccer clubs and sports associations – took on the role of regenerating the “worker” based on a broad network of social security. This “regeneration” of the Brazilian people through work would necessarily include practicing sports. Therefore, sporting activity would no longer be the exclusive domain of the political-cultural elites, but rather be universalized, encouraged and upheld by the State. Havelange graduated in 1936 with a law degree from the city college of Niterói,⁵⁸ and he was likely a student of sociologist Oliveira Vianna.⁵⁹ An intellectual architect of the Estado Novo regime, Vianna was chiefly responsible for shaping labor law of the period. Vianna’s contribution to the development of labor justice and the constitution of a law organized around corporate representation is well established in the literature. Vianna’s labor legislation marked the beginning in a long line interpretation of Brazilian labor underpinned by a broad historical, legal, geographic, and sociological study. Vianna’s main critique was the insistence on and adoption of so-called “exogenous” models to the Brazil’s reality for developing and shaping policies of the State. In Vianna’s point of view, the application of liberalism as a State doctrine to Brazil would have the opposite effect of that obtained in the Anglo-Saxon world. Instead of a “constitutionalist ideal,” Vianna proposed an organic, more pragmatic, solution that better served the reality and history of Brazilian civil society. Public administration, labor law and the intervention of a bureaucracy would play a central role in checking local powers and curbing the urge to privatize public assets. The Oliveira Vianna paradigm – advocating a strong, organized State that would adjust civil society “from above” – would be felt in various sociological trends in the following decades, even among those of a more liberal bent.⁶⁰ Vianna is among Havelange’s sources of intellectual inspiration, especially due to the practical dimension of his work. Along these lines, although it is difficult to map Havelange’s readings, it seems reasonable to assume that he was quite familiar with the so-called interpretations of Brazil. In a way, they were dis-

 In 2011, in one of Havelange’s last public appearances, he gave a lecture at the institution in which he talked about his experience as a law student. On that occasion, he received the title of “Doctor Honoris Causa” from the institution.  For Vianna’s biography, I used as reference: Ângela de Castro Gomes, “Oliveira Vianna: um statemaker na Alameda São Boaventura” in Um enigma chamado Brasil, comp. André Botelho (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2000), 144– 159.  Ângela de Castro Gomes, “A dialética da tradição”, Revista Brasileira de Ciências Sociais 12 (1990).

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seminated through mass culture, and progressively became part of the political repertoire of institutional agents. Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda made analogous observations, showing how club presidents in Brazil’s administrative field circulated the main theories of the so-called “Brazilian social thought” within the world of sports.⁶¹ The intellectual closeness of Havelange to Vianna supports this theory. In his actions at the head of the Brazilian Sports Confederation and in the interviews he granted on his own administration, Havelange often reiterated the constant diagnosis of a purported “pre-capitalist mentality” and the need to overcome it by training institutional, bureaucratic and administrative bodies, all of which echoes the main theories Vianna championed. While it is correct to locate Havelange’s intellectual foundations among the authoritarian thinking forged during the Estado Novo dictatorship, it is safe to assume that they were revisited it in the following years. The 1950s was therefore a major period in his development as an intellectual and politician. By this time, Havelange was no longer a boy. Almost forty years old, he was taking over the main sports management positions in Brazil and slowly letting go of his career as an athlete. His participation in the Helsinki Olympics as a water polo athlete was his swansong as an Olympic athlete. Havelange returned to the Games in 1956, held in Melbourne, but this time as head of delegation. In the corporate sphere, his business prospered as it rode the wave of economic growth. Taking advantage of the expansion of Brazil’s highway network, Havelange accumulated economic capital through his position at Viação Jabaquara. Working with a competitive and profitable business, this company was one of the main bus lines providing service between Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, cities connected by the recently opened Dutra Highway. In practice, Havelange’s public and political rise to the public arena is intertwined with the path of the Juscelino Kubitschek government. Long-time friends, Juscelino and Havelange met when João was a child, and Kubitschek was a regular visitor at the Havelange home in Cosme Velho. Trained in the same sociopolitical environment, Kubitschek’s and Havelange’s affinities grew as time progressed and the two became prominent in the public arena. Havelange’s admiration for Brasília, for example, deserves mention. In the context of Brazil’s plans for development, Brasília was, above all, a kind of message – the “meta-synthesis” of Kubitscheck’s Target Plan. It was a stone and concrete symbol of a set of widely diffused ideas. In 1972, when he campaigned for the FIFA

 Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda, O Clube como vontade e como representação: o jornalismo esportivo e a formação de torcidas organizadas de futebol no Rio de Janeiro (Rio de Janeiro: Editora Setteletras, 2009), 150.

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presidency, Havelange took the international delegates on a tour of Brazil. After getting to know Brazil’s circular stadiums, the itinerary started at the Três Marias hydroelectric power plant, then to Furnas, and wound up in Brasília, the three projects orchestrated by Juscelino Kubitschek. This last point will be explored further, but there is no doubt that Kubitscheck’s Brazil left a definite mark on Havelange’s worldview. In this sense, even if some critics have linked Havelange’s performance and rise to the corporate-military dictatorship, it must be said that Havelange was a politician trained, produced, and shaped by the 1950s. In order to understand how he adapted so well to the new political regime ushered in by the 1964 coup, a consideration of the characteristics of the 1950s political culture is necessary. The 1950s were characterized by the vogue and currency of the notions of planning, administration, efficiency, and modernization.⁶² These words were organized around the concept of developmentalism, which became the very political grammar of the period. In a recent work, Rafael Ioris showed how the ideology of developmentalism spanned the broader spectrum of civil society – businesspeople, farmers, workers, intellectuals. The dispute over the definition of the polysemic concept of developmentalism lent itself to manipulation and various uses in political fights. As it expanded and spread throughout civil society, the term gained distinct uses and appropriations. Per Rafael Ioris, “there was not a univocal position on which path of development the country ought to follow.”⁶³ The widespread propagation of this vocabulary imbued the political environment partly because the creators of the development program believed that their goals would only be achievable “by broad political propaganda […] to convince the proletariat and the middle class to support these ideas.”⁶⁴ Therefore, the role of intellectuals in the diffusion of this political lexicon was fundamental. The Higher Institute of Brazilian Studies (Instituto Superior de Estudos Brasileiros, or ISEB), a government body under the Ministry of Education, was the main source and vehicle for spreading ideas related to developmentalism. Roughly speaking, ISEB’s role was to spread the “language of development”

 César Guimarães, “Vargas e Kubitschek: a longa distância entre Petróbas e Brasilia” in: The Republic at Catete, comp. Maria Alice Rezende Carvalho (Rio de Janeiro: Museum of the Republic, 2001), 155 – 175.  Rafael Ioris, Qual desenvolvimento: os debates, significados e lições da era desenvolvimentista (São Paulo: Paco, 2017).  Maria de Sá Victoria Benevides, “O governo Kubistcheck: a esperança como fator de desenvolvimento,” in O Brasil de JK, comp. Ângela de Castro Gomes (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 1991), 24.

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throughout the spectrum of civil society.⁶⁵ A group of intellectuals – Hélio Jaguaribe, Guerreiro Ramos, Nelson Werneck Sodré, Candido Mendes, etc. – headed ISEB and were directly connected to the bureaucracy of the Ministry of Education and Culture. Despite the occasional disagreement, these intellectuals shared the belief in industrialization as the path to Brazil’s prosperity and economic development. In this respect, it is also worth mentioning the role of the thinkers at ECLAC (Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean) in the diffusion of the developmentalist ideology and, especially, the notions of center and periphery.⁶⁶ This diffusion led several social groups (workers, artists, bureaucrats and businessmen) to adopt the ECLAC and ISEB vocabulary in describing their public actions. The paradox, however, is that when these views of development were appropriated by other sectors they clashed with the very ideas the ISEB and ECLAC intellectuals had in mind. In the political struggle itself, these ideas being modified and adapted to a new context. For the purposes of this work, the views of development that took root among business associations were openly opposed to the ideas of ECLAC and ISEB. Whereas the ISEB and ECLAC intellectuals imagined an integrated type of development, which assumed both political autonomy and economic growth, the business associations barely espoused this view, if at all. Organized around the CNI (National Confederation of Industry) and FIESP (Federation of Industries of the State of São Paulo), the industrial sector understood developmentalist ideology as being based on a “strictly economic reading of reality.” In this case, the notion of development was watered down with those of economic growth, increased productivity, and wealth generation. In this view, the part of developmentalism having to do with the state’s hand in stimulating and planning the economy was actually accepted, but that was not the case for the defense of cultural autonomy, the discussion on center and periphery and even the fight against poverty. In this aspect, it is worth quoting an excerpt from Rafael Ioris’s book: “It is important to emphasize that despite the repeated use of ideas related to ECLAC and the ISEB, the industrialists at FIESP and CNI were certainly not supporters of national-developmentalist positions in toto, and

 Benevides, “O governo Kubistchek: a esperança como fator de desenvolvimento.”  Rafael Ioris, Which development? The debates, meanings, and lessons of the developmentalist era (São Paulo: Paco, 2017). Caio Navarro de Toledo, ISEB: fábrica de ideologias (São Paulo: Ática, 1977).

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their opinion on these concepts and development projects was in line with another, highly selective tradition of the Brazilian elites.”⁶⁷ What needs to be made clear is that this selective appropriation of the concept of developmentalism – highly selective and exclusive, as Ioris points out – is what seduced Havelange in the subsequent years. Bereft of its political content, more focused on economic order, this narrower and more pragmatic perspective caught on among these sectors of the business community in the 1950s. It does not hurt to recall the connections, circles and networks where Havelange and these trade associations coincided. Havelange was part of the business community; he played water polo on the same team as Mário Amato, the future president of FIESP, and was friends with Paulo Godoy, who would become secretary of CNC (National Confederation of Commerce) in the following years. Godoy wrote Havelange’s articles and speeches during his campaign for the FIFA presidency. In this regard, some historians, especially those coming from the Marxist tradition,⁶⁸ have already noted the corporate-military dictatorship’s succession and continuation of the Kubitschek government’s patterns of accumulating capital. Ioris himself highlights the fact that “Kubitschek paved the way for promoting development based on an alliance forged between sources of government capital and domestic and foreign private capital, which ironically, was consolidated in the 1970s, after the military regime was in place.”⁶⁹ This process of continuity from the Kubitschek government to the dictatorship needs more dense and quantitative study, but it is worth pointing out that as far as the business classes are concerned, there was no significant ideological rupture between the Kubitschek period and the business-military government when it came to accumulating capital. Along these lines, and in support of this idea, it is worth recalling that many of the political and business agents who were active in the 1950s remained so during the corporate-military dictatorship. João Havelange was no exception. Another key point raised by Ioris to support this theory is that we need to look beyond a historiographical version of development that regards the Brazilian case as being unique. Thinking about the concept of development in an international context means realizing that “it was increasingly evident that the main elements that were being sought by Brazilian officials found echoes among similar groups in other parts of the world.” Along these lines, when in Rafael Ioris, Qual desenvolvimento? (São Paulo: Paco, 2017). Caio Navarro de Toledo, ISEB: fábrica de ideologias (São Paulo: Ática, 1977).  Virgínia Fontes and Sonia Mendonça, História do Brasil recente, 1964 – 1992 (São Paulo: Ática, 1992).  Ioris, Qual desenvolvimento?

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serting this debate is inserted in a Latin American order, or more broadly, an international order, the model proposed by Havelange in his candidacy for the FIFA presidency seems a lot more attractive for the countries of the so-called Global South. This previously constructed “conceptual convergence” was what allowed for the dialogue between Havelange’s campaign and that of the countries that supported him. In other words, the notion of development is the mediating concept where the national history of Brazil intersects with the history of the countries that decided to support his candidacy. This political grammar provided the bedrock for establishing a common project.⁷⁰ The impact this period had on Havelange’s political outlook is made clearer when pointing out that by the late 1950s he joined the PSD (Partido Social Democrático, or Social Democratic Party), the largest party at the time, in a bid for a seat in the national lower house. It was a traumatic experience. He lost the 1961 election amid an atmosphere clouded by electoral fraud. More than 300 votes cast for Havelange were transferred to congressman Sami Jorge, of the same party. The Electoral Court discovered the fraud in time and terminated Sami Jorge’s term in Congress.⁷¹ Even after a recount, Havelange still did not have the votes necessary to secure his seat in congress. When Havelange was asked why he chose the PSD, he said it was because of his friendship with In spite of that, Havelange never again joined a political party, and this once and last experience is worth investigating further. The PSD of the 1950s was – to quote Lúcia Hippolito’s – a “laboratory of Brazilian political solutions.” Unlike the other two major parties at the time, PTB (Partido Trabalhista Brasileiro, or Brazilian Labor Party) and União Democrática Nacional (UDN, of National Democratic Union), which were on the left and right of the political spectrum, respectively, membership in the PSD, “more than a party,” could be characterized as “a political practice.”⁷² In Hippolito’s view, this “political practice” was based on five structuring characteristics: (1) “electoral strength”, (2) “centrist,” (3) “spirit of compromise and moderation,” (4) “firm

 Ioris, Qual desenvolvimento? To think the concept of development in transnational perspective, see also Joseph Love, A construção do Terceiro Mundo: teorias do subdesenvolvimento no Brasil e na Romênia (Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1998).  Newspaper RECALL, National Archives document on Sami Jorge’s fraud in the 1961 election. Sami Jorge got 556 votes by fraud, one newspaper clipping, National Archives, Project Memories Revealed, code BR_DFANBSB_N8_0_PRO_CSS_0291_001_D002.  Lucia Hippolito, De raposas e reformistas: o PSD e a experiência democrática brasileira (1945 – 64) (Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1985).

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decisions” and (5) “administrative competence.”⁷³ Therefore, the “political practice” of a “by-the-book member of the PSD,” should possess these five virtues in varying degrees. Examining the PSD according to these terms, it seems difficult to separate Havelange’s modus operandi from that practiced by members of the PSD. The hypothesis is that this affinity and a genuine admiration for this way of doing and practicing politics may be precisely what led him to the party. This highly personalized “political practice” based itself on personal relations for building up a political project. Cultivating personal relationships is seen as key to success: I am going to ask you a question. I know or have followed all the presidents of the Republic since Washington Luiz Pereira de Souza, who was in office from 1926 to 1930. In 1930, Getúlio took over, and stayed until 1945. Then you make study all the presidents. Did any president of Brazil, during your time, visit every state? Every year I visited all the federations, in every state. I touched the guy; he knew who I was. I’d have lunch, I’d have dinner, I’d meet his wife, I’d meet their children. This is important. That’s how we managed so much development.⁷⁴

This way of practicing and exercising politics is sustained by the importance of building symbolic, economic ties and friendships between the leader and its political base. From the constituent’s point of view, believing in the leader’s capacity to perform is fundamental. By the same token, the leader needs to cultivate personal relationships. Meeting the family, remembering politicians’ names “by heart” – Havelange used to say that “if he forgot a name, he automatically gained an enemy” – writing Christmas cards, remembering birthdays, “not breaking his word,” all these practices are duly valued and recognized by the political base. In the passage above, the success of his administration is also seen as the logical result of cultivating personal relationships.⁷⁵ Although he failed in his election as federal congressional representative, this tactic and way of doing politics were successful when applied in his career as a sports director. In a 1955 tour to federations outside the Rio-São Paulo corridor, Havelange supported Sylvio Pacheco-João Correia da Costa’s bid for the

 Hoppolito, De raposas e reformistas: o PSD e a experiência democrática brasileira (1945 – 64), 24.  João Havelange, interview (part II) by Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda and Daniela Alfonsi in Collection of the Brazilian Contemporary History Research and Documentation Center (CPDOC).  Marc Bloch, Os reis taumaturgos: o caráter sobrenatural do poder régio na França e na Inglaterra Medieval (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2000). Karina Kuschnir, O cotidiano da política (Rio de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar, 2000).

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presidency of CBD, bringing in a sizeable number of votes from amateur sports. In this case, the platform’s strategy was to get votes from the so-called peripheral regions of Brazil, outside the Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo corridor. In 1954, Pacheco formally announced his campaign in the city of Macapá in a long speech where he called for closing the gap between the Southern and Northern regions of Brazil.⁷⁶ The symbolism of launching the candidacy was clear – the platform intended to question, in theory at least, the political and economic dominance of the Rio-São Paulo corridor. The climate of “national integration” that propelled Kubitscheck’s campaign for the presidency certainly influenced and gave way to speeches such as Pacheco’s. The campaign of Geraldo Starling and Ivan de Freitas sought to buck the trend of votes coming from the North-Northeast of Brazil by sending representatives to states in those regions last-minute, but it was too late. Pacheco and Correia would become president and vice-president, respectively, of the CBD in 1955 with a plan to build a “new CBD.” The objectives of the slate can be succinctly summarized in three points: 1) to structure the Federation administratively; 2) to organize competitions and distribute more resources to the federations in the North and Northeast; 3) to improve the CBD’s relations with the international federations and thereby transform Brazil’s image abroad. It was a close election, but with 109 votes for Pacheco against 103 votes for Starling (and 5 abstentions), the presidency of the CBD went to Pacheco on January 15, 1955. Following Havelange until his rise at FIFA, the names of figures like Sylvio Pacheco (the Brazilian vote in Frankfurt), or Abilio de Almeida were part of the group that challenged the status quo at the CBD. It is also worth mentioning that Havelange would use this same tactic – of working around the outer edges of the central power – when building up his candidacy for the FIFA presidency.⁷⁷ Although Havelange was not part of the initial administration, he skyrocketed in the “new CBD.” Due to his experience as an Olympic athlete, Havelange was asked to lead the Brazilian delegation at the Olympic Games in Melbourne in 1956. If the goal of the “new CBD” was to improve the organization’s international relations, Havelange’s performance made a big difference as he was often praised by the press at the time. As soon as he returned from a trip to Japan at the end of the year, João Correia da Costa, the vice-president at the time, resigned, opening the way for Havelange to step into this high-level executive position. By the end of 1957, he was the favorite to succeed Sylvio Pacheco. The

 Sylvio Pacheco, “Discurso de Sylvio Pacheco” in Antes de ser campeão, Sylvio Pacheco (Rio de Janeiro. Red Marine Team, 2014).  Sylvio L Pacheco, Antes de ser campeões (Rio de Janeiro: Equipe Vermelho Marinho, 2014).

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group’s hegemony was already well established within the CBD. Barely having to campaign or even lay out a plan, Havelange won in landslide with 185 votes for and 19 against. He stayed at the helm of the CBD for the following 16 years.⁷⁸ Soon after he took office, for the first time ever Brazil became the champion of the World Cup in Sweden. The 1958 victory was presented as the victory of planning over the disorganization that had prevailed in previous administrations. Rigorous planning, specialized roles and administrative control were seen as keys to the Brazilian team’s victory. According to historian Denaldo Alchorne de Souza, the CBD’s leaders were “in line with the cultural policy of the period, where planning and organization were seen as essential for the desired development of soccer.”⁷⁹ Havelange thus established a semantic connection – to use anthropologist Bromberger’s expression – between the main ideas of the period and his actions as a sports leader. Thus, he would also be able to concentrate on his own image the sport-political capital of Brazil’s victory.⁸⁰ In this role, Havelange invited Paulo Machado de Carvalho to lead the 1958 World Cup delegation. This project of sports organization came to be known as the “Machado de Carvalho Plan,” which was spearheaded almost as a political manifesto in mid-1957. Paulo Machado de Carvalho came from a traditional São Paulo family and was the owner of a communications empire. There were two general objectives behind nominating him to oversee the preparations for the World Cup. A media mogul – he owned Radio and TV Record – and charismatic, Paulo Machado de Carvalho was a darling of the sports press of the time. So, choosing him was first and foremost meant to cool tempers and preemptively blunt criticism that the national team would suffer in its preparations for the World Cup. Secondly, he was seen as a stabilizing force. Even though Havelange’s administration represented a new order in the CBD, with more weight lent to the Northern and Northeastern states, Rio and São Paulo were still the centers of the greatest political and economic power. Choosing a Paulista acted as a counterweight to the Carioca figure of Havelange.⁸¹ Roughly speaking, the “Paulo Machado de Carvalho Plan” consisted of 96 articles, short paragraphs containing general disciplinary and administrative

 “João Havelange elected by acclamation at the CBD Assembly”, Jornal dos Sports, December 10, 1956.  Denaldo Alchorne Souza, Para frente Brasil, 103.  Christian Bromberger, Le match de football: ethnologie d’une passion partisane à Marseille, Naples et Turin. (Paris: Edition de la Maison de la Science du Homme, 1995).  Ernesto Carneiro Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).

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theories.⁸² In short, it was an ode to specialization, criticizing what historian Carlos Eduardo Sarmento defined as a “minimalist structure” (where the coach of the national team did not delegate but rather took on all tasks) and defending more specialized roles by recommending the establishment of a technical committee.⁸³ In this sense the idea of a more plural and diversified coaching staff, including doctors, physical trainers, nutritionists, dentists and even psychologists was taking root. Unlike “empiricism,” the division of work and the specialization of functions were the cornerstone of a “scientific” structure. In 1967, Havelange explained the method: “[…] every administration I have ever had at hand, I have watched them move forward and progress within an organization. Planning, methodology. “⁸⁴ The “Paulo Machado de Carvalho Plan” may have appeared to be neutral and scientific, but it actually contained the most comprehensive and diverse theories, which dealt with everything from players’ dress codes, hairstyles and shaving to minimum educational requirements. In practice, it was a way to control, regulate, and order the work world to optimize productivity of the ball worker, and what was at play was a worldview and a reading of Brazil and the Brazilian people. Although implied, what was left out of this discussion was the symbolic place of the elites in nation-building. Recalling the plan in a 2012 interview, Havelange comments were significant: Feet are a player’s working tools. When we went about caring for them, we removed a sack of ingrown toenails, corns, chilblains, and everything else. Those men were in such a state that they couldn’t even kick. I fixed everything. There was one player, I can’t remember which one, who wore an ill-fitting denture over some shards of teeth. If he didn‘t get treated quickly, he would get cancer in his mouth. It is well known that many illnesses come from teeth that are poorly cared for. They said that it was all excessive, that there were no crazy people on the team, and that they didn’t need to be treated by psychologists. I didn’t listen. I decided that whoever didn’t make the cut was out. Only those who were prepared would go to the Cup.⁸⁵

 Miguel Archanjo de Freitas Junior, “Paulo Machado de Carvalho: modernização ou domesticação dos jogadores de futebol?”, Record: Revista de História do Esporte 1 (2014): 1.  Carlos Eduardo Sarmento, A construção da Nação Canarinho: Uma história institucional da seleção brasileira de futebol, 1914 – 1970 (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2013), 97.  João Havelange, interview (Rio de Janeiro, October 10, 1967) in Series of testimonials for posterity, Acervo Depoimentos para a Posteridade collection, Museu da Imagem e do Som do Rio de Janeiro, 1967.  José Mário Pereira and Silvia Marta Vieira, ed., João Havelange, the sports leader of the twentieth century (Rio de Janeiro: Casa da Palavra, 2010), 132.

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By portraying players with shattered teeth and unable to kick a ball, Havelange’s narrative borders on fantastic realism. In the 1950s, the degree of specialization of Brazilian clubs was already high. In this sense, saying that they were incapable of kicking a ball sounds absurd, almost delirious. The exaggeration should not be taken as a distortion of reality, but rather as a figure of speech capable of translating a “worldview.” First, treating the players as toothless means to make a point. While Havelange was the bearer of an indestructible body, always “prepared to be there,” the athletes, who were from lower social classes, needed to be regenerated by medicine, saved by mental (psychological) preparation and physical control. The racial divide in this narrative is clear. In Havelange’s terms, what was necessary was an enlightened elite capable of saving the people through science, technique, medicine and good administration. He was directly responsible for “fixing everything,” giving the Brazilian population the “working tools” to produce well and represent the colors of Brazil on the field. In this context, the World Cup victory creates the ideal conditions to uphold and spread this version of the story and to highlight the role played by sports managers. Winning the World Cup for a second time in 1962 guaranteed Havelange’s CBD presidency. Stealing the spotlight away from the players for the victories in 1958 and 1962, this elitist vision’s effect was certainly limited. A sign that the population see itself reflected in the mirror of this authoritarian discourse is that, despite the fraudulent election, Havelange could not even get elected as a federal congressional representative in 1960. Far from the popular representations, which preferred to credit Brazil’s victory to the talent of the players on the field, this discourse has been kept alive in the official history of Brazilian soccer. One way or another, the representations surrounding the 1958 victory can be seen as a kind kite-flying for what would happen in 1970, when the emphasis on specialization, preparation and control over players would gain even sharper contours than in 1958. The discourse about the organization of the workforce, the importance of the technical committee, and the mental and physical regeneration work re-emerged with even more force in the 1970 World Cup.

Chapter 3 “A Blonde Pelé”: business organization, political propaganda, and the 1970 World Cup “A true representative of business leaders” By late 1970, Comércio e Mercados, a magazine of the National Confederation of Commerce (CNC), the Commercial Workers’ Social Service (SESC) and the National Commercial Apprenticeship Service (SENAC) gave Havelange one of the most prestigious prizes in Brazil’s business world, the “Muscat of the Year” award. Instituted in 1964, the trophy’s name is a play on words. On the one hand it pays tribute to those who hail from the city of Muscat, the capital of Oman, whose inhabitants are known their trading savvy. On the other hand, it is a reference to the term mascate in Brazilian Portuguese, where the word became a synonym for a traveling salesperson or a huckster, the precursors to formal traders. The trophy, a bronze work by artist Honório Peçanha, is a sculptural representation of a traveling salesman. Considered the Oscar award in commerce, the list of laureates includes notable businessmen – Giulite Coutinho, Edgar Queiroz, Jair Coser, Jorge Geyer, José Bonifácio de Abreu Amorim, etc.¹ Comércio e Mercados was a publication mostly focused on foreign trade and reported on Brazilian business ventures that financed international projects that eventually opened up new markets (the Middle East, China, Africa) for Brazil. This publication articulated the interests and aspirations of a certain segment of the Brazilian bourgeoisie of the time, namely those concerned with increasing exports to siphon off the industrial surplus from the economic miracle. The magazine’s editorial line brought the publication closer to the political regime. Leafing through a copy, it would be easy to spot praise for the great projects of the economic miracle (the Rio-Niteroi Bridge, the Trans-Amazonian Highway and Itaipu just to name a few of the magazine’s cover stories). Its cover photos featured the major government icons and acclaim for the Brazil of the “economic miracle” (a slogan often heard in the Brazil, Great Power propaganda). Paulo Godoy, a friend of Havelange’s, was the magazine’s editor-in-chief and secretary-general of Brazil’s Confederation of National Trade Unions. (CNI)²  Confederação Nacional do Comércio dos Bens, Serviços e Turismo, CNC 70 anos: do tamanho do futuro (Rio de Janeiro, 2015).  CNI is the main organization representing Brazilian industry. Its challenge is to increase the competitiveness of Brazilian industry by influencing the policy environment. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-008

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Figure 4: Joao Havelange met with Brazilian Minister of Education and Culture Jarbas Passarinho, a key member of Brazilian Government. APESP Archives, Ultima Hora, 1969.

In 1970, Havelange was unanimously chosen for the Mascate prize. The truth of the matter is that it was only one of the many awards he went on to receive in 1970. Between 1970 and 1974, Havelange was honored by at least 42 Brazilian political, cultural or economic institutions.³ The Mascate award Cerimonies were attended by individuals connected to business, diplomacy, and industry. Described as an “authentic representative of business leaders,” choosing Havelange was justified by the fact that no other businessperson could sell Brazil’s “name and prestige in every corner of the world.” The editorial, most likely written by Paulo Godoy, was a toast to Havelange’s role in the 1970 World Cup: Everyone acknowledges that the main reason we managed to bring the Jules Rimet Cup to Brazil was our good organization, efficient taskforce, following the work plan to a T, the lack of criticism or problems, the good backup logistics support and the strict control over each stage and activity. […] we really mean the overall organization, whose strings were moved and controlled by the hand of João Havelange.⁴

 See Table below.  “Editorial,” Comércio e Mercados: órgão da confederação nacional do comércio, do SESC e do SENAC, August, 1970, 1.

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It was no accident that the speech credited Havelange for the symbolic gains of a three-time World Cup champion. The passage above suggests that Brazil’s victory was less in part due to the skills of superstars like Pelé, Jairzinho or Tostão than to the “organization” and a “work plan followed to a T.” In other words, business leaders – as a political group – sought to take credit for winning the World Cup in Mexico. Havelange was the personification of this group’s success and triumph. The symbolic capital of the 1970 victory lauded him, not the players. The congratulatory statement continues: Selling Brazil’s prestige, its organizational capacity, the value of its men, the affirmation of its racial diversity steeped in shared enthusiasm was not achieved from Brazil outward alone. Perhaps its significance as an instrument of national unity […] has even greater merit. The victory in sports was a civic movement. A catharsis. We exit this championship with cleansed souls. We cast away any doubt. It showed us what we could achieve. This sporting achievement can be extrapolated to other endeavors where the challenge of our development may come into question.⁵

Few subjects are as studied by the soccer historiography as Brazil’s victory in the 1970 World Cup. Traditionally it has been spun as political appropriation by the military. According to this version, the military, represented by President Médici, used Brazil’s national team to prop up its authority and thereby promoted the nationalist discourse of the time. The debate revolves around the extent, nature, and impact that this discourse had on society, where some consider it to have been limited. This group of authors argues that although the agents intended to tame the masses through soccer, the reception of the messaging surrounding the 1970 national team was varied.⁶ Other historians are more incisive, arguing that the military’s clear political use of the team had direct impacts on the construction of a political hegemony.⁷ There seems to be consensus, however, that the ones to captain and capitalize on the success of the 1970 Brazilian team were the military. This version holds them responsible for amplifying the nationalist euphoria caused by the economic miracle with the triumph of manager Mario Jorge Lobo Zagallo’s team. This chapter of the book diverges and expands this interpretative line to a certain extent. Although it seems clear that the military headed in this direction, they did not fly solo. Broad swaths of the business community were also onboard. Hailing  “Editorial”, idem, pg. 2  José Paulo Florenzano, A democracia corinthiana: práticas de liberdade no futebol brasileiro (São Paulo: EDUC, 2009).  See Lívia Gonçalves Magalhães. Com a taça nas mãos: sociedade, Copa do Mundo e ditadura no Brasil e na Argentina (Rio de Janeiro: Lamparina, 2014).

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from different sectors of the economy, particularly finance, these business leaders helped to fund the team’s planning efforts for the World Cup in Mexico. The alignment of the military and business sectors is clear, and it is telling that Havelange himself used to refer to the 1964 coup as the “revolution,” and, on more than one occasion, praised the public spirit, honesty, and rectitude of the military. In this respect, the preparation for the 1970 World Cup campaign was a relatively expensive undertaking. Known in the literature as “Mexico Plan” it relied on advanced techniques for physical fitness, highly qualified professionals, foreign professional exchanges, and numerous training and study trips. Planning Mexico was as innovative as it was expensive, so, to raise funds for this endeavor entrepreneurs organized around the so-called “The Business Leaders’ Campaign for the 1970 World Cup.” In the words of Bellini Cunha, Walther Moreira Salles’s advisor, and one of the main characters in this chapter, “It was an alliance, you know? The military provided the structure and the businessmen, the money.”⁸ Inscribed in a broad tradition, this chapter intends to be an empirical contribution to a historiographical debate about the political nature of the military regime. In short, there are three interpretative lines within the historiography on this topic. The first is that the regime should be presented as exclusively military. In this sense, the Weberian tradition makes a point of stressing who held the top positions in the bureaucracy. The military occupied the main positions of power and prestige therefore, these historians consider that the regime ought to be characterized as a “military regime.”⁹ One of the main problems of this view is the downplaying of the so-called “technical staff” within the political regime. These staff members, such as the previously mentioned Delfim Netto, were important points of contact between business leaders and the stricter political bloc. The second historiographical line characterizes the regime as “civil-military.”¹⁰ This line emphasizes the support lent by “civil society” to the government, citing such elements as the high popularity ratings President Médici enjoyed and the significant votes cast for Aliança Renovadora Nacional (ARENA) at the peak of the regime. The criticism here is that viewing “civil society” as a homogeneous

 Bellini Cunha, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016). Acervo pessoal: João Havelange.  Check: Carlos Fico, “Ditadura militar brasileira: aproximações teóricas e historiográficas,” Tempo e Argumento 9 (2017): 5, accessed May 1, 2022, doi: 10.5965/2175180309202017005; or João Roberto Martins Filho, O palácio e a caserna: A dinâmica militar das crises políticas na ditadura, 1964 – 1969 (São Carlos: EdUFSCar, 1995).  Daniel Aarão Reis Filho, Ditadura militar, esquerdas e sociedade (Rio de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar, 2000).

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category means, above all, omitting the social class differences and divisions that exist within this broader category. It also means detaching civil society from the state, as if these entities existed independently from one another. The jury is still out as to who was ultimately at the helm of the regime, and which groups profited from the dictatorial regime.¹¹ This unsettled matter leads to a third interpretation of the political regime: no longer a “civil-military”, but rather a “business-military dictatorship.” Anchored in abundant empirical documentation, historiographic research has shown the tight connection between the national business oligopolies (heavy construction, finance, agro-export) and the harshest political regime.¹² The aim of characterizing the dictatorship as a regime maintained and supported by the business leaders is to demonstrate the connection between these groups and the economic policy agenda of the time. Moreover, it was the business leaders who profited and increased their capital while large sectors of the working class saw their wages cut and their purchasing power diminished. Nevertheless, it is important to stress that there were tensions between the business community and the military, which ought not to be seen as homogeneous groups, but whose converging agendas, particularly between 1969 and 1974, overlapped on political disputes. The empirical study of the business community’s role in the 1970 World Cup, which paved the way for Havelange’s victory as FIFA president, precisely supports this third historiographical line by revealing how the military and the business community were aligned. Havelange was a key player in this process. Navigating between these two political groups, he managed to check powers and ease tensions. Brazil’s World Cup victory lent him a position of unique prestige within Brazilian civil society. As a result, a window of opportunity opened for him to forge the agreements and accumulate the resources necessary to boost his eligibility for the FIFA presidency. But this story begins with a defeat, Brazil’s performance in the 1966 World Cup. An indisputable result put Havelange in the hot seat and forced him to think outside the box to tackle old problems.

 Virgínia Fontes, O Brasil e o capital-imperialismo (Rio de Janeiro: EdUFRJ, 2010).  Pedro Henrique Pedreira Campos, Estranhas catedrais: as empreiteiras brasileiras e a ditadura civil-militar, 1964 – 1988 (Niterói: EdUFF, 2014). Mariana Rangel Joffily “No centro da engrenagem: os interrogatórios na Operação Bandeirante e no DOI de São Paulo (1969 – 1975)”. (PhD diss., University of São Paulo, 2008).

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Unruliness explained The 1966 World Cup was a hard blow to Havelange’s aspirations for prestige. He was in a slump for the first time since taking over the CBD in 1957. After winning two consecutive championships, 1958 and 1962, Brazil lost the 1966 World Cup. It was the first time the Brazil team was eliminated in the post-1954 group-stage format. The frustration was even greater because the hopes of a third consecutive championship were dashed with this disqualification against Portugal. Sportswriter Nelson Rodrigues classified the result as “the worst defeat, and bitter most and everything most, because we dreamed of winning an unprecedented title”.¹³ Violent popular uproar spread rapidly throughout Brazil. In acts of xenophobia, ordinary people harassed Portuguese establishments, picked fights with and attacked Portuguese people in the streets. The hatred invariably turned against Brazil itself. In São Paulo, an individual was even arrested for burning a Brazilian flag at Praça da Sé. Brazilian public opinion generally demands an explanation for any national team loss at the World Cup. The popular feeling is that Brazil’s team only loses because of its own flaws in preparation, never because of the opponent’s merits. As Leda Costa wrote, “when everything goes wrong, the fans have the impression that there is an evil coach, player or even manager behind the loss.”¹⁴ There is a need to search for more than just a scapegoat and build a coherent narrative to explain the failure. These theories are often closely connected to the political context from which they emerge. From this perspective, Simoni Lahud Guedes shows how “the evaluations of losses closely follow the socioeconomic occurrences and specific political situations in which they are inserted. In a way, a there is history of Brazil can be pieced together from the history of how Brazilians evaluate themselves in the World Cups.”¹⁵ In 1966, there were two theories available to explain Brazil’s defeat. The first was that Brazil and the other South American teams, notably Argentina, were the victims of an international plot hatched by the Europeans. The narrative was centered around the FIFA president of the time, Stanley Rous. South American leaders were outraged by how their teams were treated and by the way the games were run. The strength and impact of this conspiracy theory, as attested

 Nelson Rodrigues apud Leda Costa, “A trajetória da queda: as narrativas da derrota e os principais vilões da seleção brasileira em Copas do Mundo” (PhD diss., Universidade do Estado do Rio de Janeiro, 2008), 6.  Costa, “A trajetória da queda”, in particular chapter two.  Simoni Lahud Guedes, “O Brasil nas Copas do Mundo: tempo ‘suspenso’ e História” (paper presented at XXII Reunião Brasileira de Antropologia, Gramado, 2002).

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by British diplomatic documents and already discussed in a previous chapter, forged unity among the South American countries. In a continent divided per secular rivalries, the political solidarity that laid the foundations for Havelange’s candidacy for the FIFA presidency was stitched together by the idea that South America had been cheated by Europe. In 2012, Havelange grumbled about this theory in his interview with Bernardo Buarque de Hollanda and Daniela Alfonsi: When I arrived in 1966, Stanley Rous was the president. I was already the champion in 1958 and 1962, and I take the team to the World Cup in England, land in Southampton, let the English federation and FIFA know the details of our arrival, on such and such plane, at such and such a time, so they’d have everything ready to take me to the hotel. I stood around for two hours waiting for the bus. Their first courtesy. Their second courtesy: I got to the hotel, which we had rented out in advance to have it to ourselves, it had a small soccer field, and I asked about the training space they’d reserved for us. They led me to it. When I got there, the was grass up to here. That was the gift we got from England and the English, who are the great lords, right? So, I coached until the field was ready. […] Not only that, I had nine referees, I mean, three referees and six linesmen, right? So, my gift from Stanley Rous: six of the referees were… seven were English and two were German. They clobbered my team. That was the gift. It was just getting kicked in the legs. Because he wanted to do away with me. ¹⁶

Even though this conspiracy theory was widespread, its impact was muted in Brazil compared to the rest of South America. The prevailing explanation held Havelange accountable for the Brazilian team’s failure. Havelange’s unpreparedness, breakdown in the chain of command and ambition were presented as the major culprits for the national team’s defeat in 1966. The effectiveness of this theory is closely tied to the historical period in which it was spread. In a political environment steeped in “finger-pointing, harassment and obsessive scapegoating as the rhetorical tools of political action,”¹⁷ it was only natural, therefore, for the theory that held Havelange fully accountable for the 1966 loss to become hegemonic. Moreover, the public spreading of this theory was, no doubt, sponsored by those who aimed at weakening Havelange’s institutional position – he was more identified then with the 1945 Republic than with the political regime established in 1964. In August 1966, O Cruzeiro magazine carried the headline “No Matter Who It Hurts: The unveiled defeat.” The article in O Cruzeiro boils down to a certain  João Havelange, interview by Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda and Daniela Alfonsi. Collection of the Brazilian Contemporary History Research and Documentation Center (CPDOC).  Carlos Eduardo Sarmento, A construção da nação canarinho: uma história institucional da seleção brasileira de futebol, 1914 – 1970 (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2013) 136.

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extent the main arguments circulating in the press at the time. The journalist accused Havelange of inadequate technical and scientific readiness. In this sense, Brazilian soccer did not keep up with the “physical, technical and tactical” developments European soccer underwent between 1962 and 1966. Besides the lack of methodological preparation, there was the selfishness. In this regard, the argument is that Havelange removed Paulo Machado de Carvalho as head of delegation to further his own political project. With the expectation of becoming a three-time champion, Havelange wanted to position himself to be able to reap all the symbolic capital from such a feat. Brazil did not repeat its starting line-up in any of the three games. This was the logical result of inadequate preparation, where more than 40 players were called up for the World Cup. The disorder was caused by the “breakdown in the chain of command.” The same article also featured a box captioned “In the spotlight,” the magazine welcomed ordinary people and sports personalities, friends of Havelange, to make value judgments and express personal opinions about the leader of the CBD. Geraldo Escobar, the magazine’s sports editor, led the criticism targeted at him: As president of the CBD, João Havelange was wrong to take over as head of the Brazilian delegation. His position disqualified him from holding a subordinate position. He is the person most to blame for changing the technical committee by dismissing a trainer and not hiring a competent coach. Today, he says he assumes responsibility. It’s too late. Brazilian fans need a lot more facts about the 1966 World Cup to know what really happened. He runs the CBD as if he owned the place. He got lost in his oversized personality.¹⁸

This diagnosis for the loss was very similar to the military’s interpretation of their own actions, which at the very least led to the 1964 coup. In the view of many in the military, the coup was seen as a response to the breach in the chain of command brought about by sergeants and sailors. Such unruliness made military intervention necessary. The presidency is deemed as a sacred source of authority – it is seat of the Confederation’s political legitimacy. By doubling as both president and the “subordinate” role as head of delegation – a political position that required direct contact with the players – Havelange’s authority came into question. Both in the CBD and in national political life, a breakdown in the chain of command led to the military’s increased participation in the political realm. The theory that gained support in 1966 was that having the military more involved in politics would restore the order, discipline and

 Mário de Moraes, “Doa a quem doer: a derrota sem os véus da fantasia,” O Cruzeiro, August 23, 1966.

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hierarchy that had been lost at the hand of excessively vain public figures devoid of patriotism.¹⁹ The downturn in Brazil’s political environment placed Havelange in a relatively weak institutional position. As a result, he appeared on several TV programs in an effort at damage control, apologizing to the Brazilian people and providing a mea culpa for not selecting Paulo Machado de Carvalho as head of delegation. According to the periodization proposed by political scientist Adriano Codato, the time spanning from 1965 to 1967 is defined by the political purge of civilian political leaders identified with the Republic of 1945.²⁰ Havelange told O Cruzeiro that after the 1966 World Cup, he was directly threatened with the so-called military police inquiries (known as IPM, or inquéritos policiais militaress in Portuguese), which the government systematically used for persecuting moderate and radical opposition members. In Havelange’s case, the threat was an administrative inquiry that could lead to corruption charges. In practice, the IPMs were a means of political persecution in the guise of the fight against corruption. It is also said that there was even a file on Havelange at the National Intelligence Service (SNI, in Portuguese). Even after SNI records were declassified, Havelange’s file was never found. There are clues, however, that Havelage requested João Figuereido to destroy the file on him before the end of the dictatorship. In any case, what we know for sure is that there was an imminent fear of political intervention in the CBD back in 1966 that got Havelange looking for greener pastures. It can thus be said that one of the first ideas floated was that of exile. It is precisely at this time that his candidacy for the FIFA presidency became a concrete possibility. In retrospect, it seems easy to see that the international conditions were increasingly favorable for him: besides the bolstered South American solidarity as a result of 1966, the “Third World” movement was gaining traction among the international sports federations. Nothing suggests that Havelange was keenly aware of these trends before acquainting himself with key agents such as Elias Zaccour and Guillermo Canedo. In 1967, for example, Havelange advocated for a change to the political system in international sports institutions such that more power be granted to the long-standing member countries, namely Europe and South America, thereby weakening the Afro-Asian bloc. What he really dreamed of was the presidency of the International Olympic Committee, wagering that he would have the direct support of Belgium, Europe, and  Maria Celina D’Araújo and Gláucio Ary Dillon Soares, introduction to Visões do golpe, by Celso Castro (Rio de Janeiro: Nova Fronteira, 2014).  Adriano Nervo Codato. “O golpe de 1964 e o regime de 1968: aspectos conjunturais e variáveis históricas,” História: Questões & Debates 40 (2004): 11.

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South America. However, given his weakened position in Brazil, an international post meant his own political survival. The paradox was that without a solid position in Brazil, it would be difficult for him to compete for an international post. It is not a stretch, however, to assume that his idea of running for office began to take shape as his position in Brazil blunted. Before Havelange could make a comeback, though, he needed to yield to the military. In this sense, his first step was to attempt to create a committee that would oversee matters concerning the Brazilian team as a way of granting more power to the military within the CBD. As part of this effort, Paulo Machado de Carvalho was called back to lead what would be called the National Selection Commission (COSENA). Whereas Havelange usurped powers from other CBD roles back in 1966, namely the head of delegation while president, now his plan was to delegate them. Through the inclusion of sports managers and politicians alike, COSENA “meant sharing CBD’s work with the military.”²¹ The commission would oversee the players that made the cut, choose the Technical Commission, and prepare for the World Cup. In the words of Carlos Eduardo Sarmento, “[it was a] a representative body, [made up of] federation leaders, mostly the doubles of political leaders or military representatives, who now exert constant and divisive pressure on the team.”²² The “Commission” experiment did not last long. From 1967 to 1969, the team played a series of matches, but the results fell short of expectations. In early 1969, Havelange decided – without letting the military know – to dissolve COSENA. This bureaucratic backpedaling to push the military out was a bet Havelange made to win back public opinion. Choosing João Saldanha to coach the Brazilian team in February 1969 was part of this bet. Saldanha, a journalist with high popularity ratings, could help to fend off bad press and placate the sports audience.²³ Nevertheless, the military’s role within national sports organizations still grew. Sports historians designated this trend as the “militarization of soccer institutions.”²⁴ All things considered, the armed forces have always been connected to sports institutions in Brazil. However, it was the drubbing in 1966 that set the political stage for the military, who had recently been emboldened by the

 Lívia Gonçalves Magalhães. Com a taça nas mãos: sociedade, Copa do Mundo e ditadura no Brasil e na Argentina (Rio de Janeiro: Lamparina, 2014).  Carlos Eduardo Sarmento, A construção da nação canarinho: uma história institucional da seleção brasileira de futebol, 1914 – 1970 (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2013) 134.  Gilberto Agostino, Vencer ou morrer: futebol, geopolítica e identidade nacional (Rio de Janeiro: Mauad, 2000).  Joel Rufino dos Santos, História política do futebol brasileiro (São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1981).

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coup in 1964, to hold more sway over the Brazilian Sports Confederation. We ought to read the relationship between the veteran sports leaders and the military rookies carefully, though. It would be inaccurate to imagine a situation where the civilians were repressed by the military or where these two were in a permanent state of conflict. Instead, the relationship was a protracted and open negotiation between the different stakeholders. Furthermore, the main producers of science and technology on sports and exercise in Brazil were the army’s physical education academies. These schools had a solid national and international network, including international connections with bodies such as Professor Raoul Mollet’s International Military Sports Council (CISM, in French). Books by Raoul Mollet and Kenneth Cooper became best sellers in Brazil in the aftermath of Brazil’s World Cup victories and were published by the Brazilian Ministry of Education and the army’s publishing house, Editora do Exército. Members of the military such as Colonel Lamartine da Costa and Captain Claudio Coutinho were the ones charged with preparing and executing the planning for Mexico. Even those who were not directly related to the Army like physical trainer Carlos Alberto Parreira had at some point in their technical training made their way to the Army Physical Education School.²⁵ The plans the military contemplated and advanced required large sums of public money to prepare the Brazilian team, though. Given his still precarious situation, Havelange feared that if the team lost again having asked the government for funding would raise the stakes so high as to potentially cost him his head. He made the following statement in February 1969: “If we ask the government for money, in a way, it obliges us to win the Cup at all costs. If we lose, they very well may come and conduct an IPM at the CBD.”²⁶ Without government help, the financing needed to groom the team for the 1970 World Cup thus became a problem. As such, and in the aftermath of the crisis resulting from the disbandment of COSENA and the appointment of Saldanha, Havelange sought out several supporters in the business community who would be interested in financing the World Cup preparation plan. In an episode overlooked by the literature, Havelange invited Ambassador Walther Moreira Salles to lead the delegation to the 1970 World Cup in Mexico. The invitation would be, however, the last scene of a series in the long campaign for financing the 1970 team.

 Renato Souza Soeiro, “A contribuição da Escola de Educação Física do Exército para o esporte nacional: 1933 a 2000” (Master’s thesis., University Castelo Branco, 2003).  “As moedas de ouro em prol da seleção,” Diários Associados, April 30, 1970.

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The business leaders, the ball, and the homeland It was late February 1969 when Havelange approached Bellini Cunha at a Fluminense board meeting. Havelange reached out in the wake of dissolving COSENA. Like Havelange, Cunha was a member of both the board and the club and “had,” in his own words, “a very good relationship with the people there.”²⁷ Since 1961, he worked at União de Bancos Brasileiros (UBB), the bank owned by the Moreira Salles family.²⁸ He had been invited by a former law professor at Faculdade Nacional to write the articles of incorporation for a company in the midst of the bank’s expansion process. This company, in turn, was eventually acquired by the bank, and Bellini Cunha was hired as an advisor to Walther Salles. By the end of the 1960s, Bellini Cunha was thriving as one of Ambassador Walther Moreira Salles’ trusted legal advisors.²⁹ That was when: He [Havelange] came to me because he needed to talk to Ambassador Moreira Salles about a sponsorship for the Brazilian team. I said, “look, you have direct contact with the Ambassador, you don’t have to go through me. You just have to look for him, Havelange.” “No. The Ambassador is very busy, I would like you to prime him, talk to him, so that when I schedule an appointment with him he’ll already be abreast of the matter.”³⁰

Havelange’s strategy of approaching Ambassador Walther Moreira Salles through a mediator worked. At first – per Cunha’s own account – Walther found the proposal odd: So, I had a conversation with him. Because I really thought it would be good for his image, I mean, he was a character, let’s say, people thought he lived in a bubble, which he didn’t, he was a very approachable person and so on. So, to project his image further, I mean, amongst the people, you know, since he [already] enjoyed a very a prominent presence in the financial world, in the international world.³¹

 Bellini Cunha, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016).  Moreira Salles Family is one of the wealthiest family in Brazil. Walter Moreira Salles was the founder of União dos Bancos Brasileiros, who later (in the 2000s) – united with Itaú, transforming into Itáu Unibanco SA, the biggest private bank in Brazil.  Tatiana Vaz, “Quem são as 15 famílias mais ricas do Brasil, segundo a Forbes,” Exame, May 14, 2014, accessed April 16, 2019, https://exame.abril.com.br/negocios/quem-sao-as-15-familiasmais-ricas-do-brasil-segundo-a-forb/.  Bellini Cunha, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016). Acervo pessoal: João Havelange.  Bellini Cunha, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016). Acervo pessoal: João Havelange.

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A shift in the UBB’s financial policy favored an investment in marketing the Brazilian team. In 1970, UBB acquired Banco Predial, which had 108 branches that served a lower income population and was linked to the Portuguese community in the city of Rio de Janeiro. This acquisition signaled a change in the bank’s policy. Up to that point UBB’s book of business included mostly high-income clients. The Banco Predial acquisition positioned UBB to start competing for middle- and low-income clients. Since the Brazilian team had mass appeal in all segments of Brazilian society, it became a very valuable marketing asset. Investing in the national team seemed to be an appropriate strategy for getting the name of Walther Moreira Salles “amongst the people,” as Bellini Cunha put it. It is worth noting that the bank’s expansion took place in the shadow of the economic growth of the corporate-military dictatorship. The policies adopted by Roberto Campos and Otávio Gouveia de Bulhões starting in 1967 encouraged mergers and favored the creation of banking conglomerates, reducing the letters patent (i. e. the right of banks to engage in financial activity with civil society).³² Additionally, increased consumption amongst middle- and low-income families attracted the bank to this segment. However, it seems difficult to associate the economic growth of Walther Salles with an intense pro-military-dictatorship political activity. There is a certain ambiguity about how much Salles participated in the post-1964 regime, and the bibliography has barely scratched the surface on his biography, unfortunately. On the one hand, documents show that Salles forwarded information to American ambassador Lincoln Gordon about the country’s political situation in 1964 and was involved in the conspiracy that would overthrow the Goulart government. On the other hand, he did not hold public office in the post-1964 political regime and kept a certain distance from its leaders. In any case, the economic policy of the military regime favored consolidation in several sectors of the economy. In this sense, UBB reaped the benefits of this policy.³³ In 1970, when Havelange explained the terms of the relationship and revealed how much money he needed, Salles agreed. According to Bellini Cunha’s version, Salles had two conditions. First, he did not want his bank’s name (UBB) to be directly involved in the financing. The donations would come straight out

 Rafael Vaz Brandão, “Os Moreira Salles, os Setúbal e os Villela: finanças e poder no Brasil,” in Os donos do capital: a trajetória das principais famílias empresariais do capitalismo brasileiro, ed. Pedro Henrique Pedreira Campos. (Rio de Janeiro: Autografia, 2018) 285; José Pedro Macarini, “A política bancária do regime militar – o projeto de conglomerado (1967– 1973),” Economia e sociedade 16 (2017): 343.  Jorge Miguel Mayer, “Walther Moreira Salles,” in Dicionário Histórico-Biográfico Brasileiro, ed Israel Beloch (Rio de Janeiro, FGV, 1984).

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of his own pocket and be deposited in an account opened at the Banco do Estado da Guanabara. This bank belonged to Carlos Alberto Vieira, also a member and on the board of Fluminense, and a friend of Havelange’s. The first concern that Salles raised made sense. The shadow of a loss haunted him throughout the campaign – what if the bank of Walther Salles turned out to be a synonym of loser? In the early days of sports sponsorship businesspeople must have considered this as a concrete possibility. More than any other economic activity, banking is based on the credit established between the bank and its clients. Many works in the anthropological literature show the links between credit and trust.³⁴ If the population’s trust in the bank were shaken, it could compromise the bank’s expansion plan. The second condition that Salles set was that the investment could not be made in one installment, since it was a large sum. The total amount requested was 1 million cruzeiros novos (equivalent to about USD 250,000 at the 1970 exchange rate). Updating this amount by nominal inflation, it would be equal to roughly 1.5 million dollars. It is hard to say how significant of an amount this was in Walther Salles’s letter of credit. Of course, in absolute terms, it was a considerable amount. Even so, choosing not to donate the full amount at once can be seen as a strategy. The proposal was, then, to select a group of business leaders who would coalesce around the national team. By creating such a committee its members could minimize losses and amplify potential marketing gains in the case of a victory. Engaging the business community was itself a way to multiply political/symbolic gains, since it would increase the campaign’s visibility. In this process, what started as an individual sponsorship became a collective mobilization of business leaders. After agreeing to these conditions, Havelange made a special request: that Walther Moreira Salles lend his name as the chair of the campaign. In a letter dated March 1969, Havelange explained the reasons Salles should be at the helm of the coalition. It would be a way of lending his prestige to the campaign. Besides the interview with Bellini Cunha, Havelange’s letter to Salles outlines his wishes and the motivations of this request: Mr. Ambassador, As the date of the 1970 World Cup in Mexico draws nearer, and, prior to that event, the dates of the matches that Brazilian soccer will play against the teams of Colombia, Vene-

 ZELIZER, Viviana A. The social meaning of money: “special monies”. American journal of sociology, v. 95, n. 2, p. 342– 377, 1989. NEIBURG, Federico. “As moedas doentes, os números públicos e a antropologia do dinheiro.” Mana 13 (2007): 119 – 151.

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zuela, and Paraguay, which will determine whether Brazil will participate in the World Cup, the CBD’s obligations to the Brazilian people are mounting. Such are the concerns, and such are the countless and high stakes riding on this soccer event that the wish to collaborate expressed by organizations of UBB’s caliber or by citizens of your stature and importance in the political, social, and economic-financial life of the country represents the hope, or almost the certainty, that we will overcome the challenges before us. The visit of Mr. Pedro McGregor, assistant to UBB’s board of directors, to the CBD where he made a presentation before our board of directors of the outlines of a financial plan to support our entity as we prepare for the World Cup laid clear that the most important spheres of Brazil see the significance of soccer as one of a nation’s instruments for propaganda, just as they recognize how much the Brazilian people wish to win the 1970 World Cup. The CBD Board of Directors, absolutely confident of your Excellency’s decisive support, established the Brazilian Committee for Team 70 (COBRAS, per the acronym in Portuguese) and hereby sends an impassioned appeal for you to take over as the chair of our campaign. Your presence at the head of such a movement is the greatest and best guarantee of our success ahead. You will be joined by and rely on a group who stand ready to help without any hesitation, as befits the quality and capacity of the man at the campaign’s helm. The Board of Directors has also chosen to ask your Excellency to prepare the plan as outlined by Pedro McGregor, and we make our services available for any information you may require. In anticipation of your speedy response, we offer your Excellency, Mr. Ambassador, the acclaim of our great respect and high esteem for you. Havelange.³⁵

Before detailing the episode itself, it is worth reflecting on the reasons this partnership between the business community and the Brazilian Confederation has not appeared in academic history books. One can start by highlighting the obvious fact that the Walther Moreira Salles Archives remain off limits to academics. However, the meetings between Havelange and the business community were abundantly covered in the press. Walther Salles even published his letter refusing the invitation to head the delegation in major newspapers. And yet, academics who have studied the 1970 World Cup have preferred to leave this story out of their works. In this matter in particular, one must agree with historian Daniel Aarão Reis. Reis points out that during the post-dictatorship political opening process,

 João Havelange, Carta Convite (ofício número 254). Havelange convida Walther Salles, destinatário: Walther Moreira Salles (Rio de Janeiro, March 14, 1969), one letter, folder four, “Campanha Nacional Pró-Seleção Brasileira”, WMS, 1979, 03 – 14. Correspondências, Walther Moreira Salles, IMS Archive.

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Brazil underwent a sort of “purge of the dictatorship by society,”³⁶ in that the regime was seen as something essentially negative and associated exclusively with the military group. Along these lines, “barely anyone wants to identify with the dictatorship today […] as a result, actions that tend to set up a drastic split between the past and the present are implemented and induce forgetfulness and silence around a process.”³⁷ Groups and agents who collaborated, profited, and acted hand in hand with the government were somehow silenced. Key to creating a euphoric atmosphere in 1970, the victory in the World Cup and its multiple political uses were supposed to be associated exclusively to the figure of president Médici, the face, by definition, of the authoritarian regime. The business community’s collaboration in the campaign and eventual economic-political gains have been, therefore, glossed over by the official memory. Two months after their initial correspondence, the business leaders held the public kick-off dinner for the fundraising campaign. The event got started with a parade of beauty queens from Brazil’s states strutting before journalists, businessmen, military personnel like General Siseno Sarmento and, of course, the members of the national team, the “Feras de Saldanha” (Saldanha’s aces). The names of the dishes served recognized the stars of the evening: as a starter, “cream of asparagus à la Havelange”; “steak à la João Saldanha,” the main course; and, for dessert, “coffee à la Pelé.” About 100,000 cruzeiros novos (or 25,000 dollars) were donated that night alone (about 10 % of the target amount) for prepping the CBD’s team.³⁸ Nelson Rodrigues was one of the journalists who attended the event. Saying that this columnist and Fluminense fan became a kind of unofficial spokesman for the campaign is no overstatement. The column below, written soon after the launch party, was the first of a series of texts produced and dedicated to the Business Leaders’ Campaign for the 1970 National Team: The support that our business community is lending to the Brazilian scratch team* ³⁹ is romantic. The example set by Walther Moreira Salles defines a new Brazil. In the past, a rich man would not even know whether the ball was round or square. And look at how Walther Moreira Salles rose to the occasion, with open arms, when Havelange asked for his help. He

 Daniel Aarão Reis Filho, Ditadura militar, esquerdas e sociedade (Rio de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar, 2000) 8.  Reis Filho, Ditadura militar, 16.  “Empresário confia na Seleção 1970,” Correio da Manhã, July 1, 1969. Notícias mais gerais podem ser encontradas in: “Jantar hoje dos amigos da seleção,” Jornal dos Sports, June 30, 1969 and “Banqueiro janta com as feras,” O Globo, January 1, 1970.  Translator Note. Scratch is the popular name for the Brazilian National Team.

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works for the national team. I will keep saying that the scratch team is the whole nation in cleats. After all, our business leaders see, think and feel so, too.⁴⁰

The propaganda was clear: whereas in the “past” there were a disconnect between the agency of business leaders and popular sentiment, in Brazil of 1969 the business leaders experienced and felt the problems of the nation as if they were theirs. As a result, there was no conflict between the subordinate and the ruling classes: both went through and felt the same problems of one Brazil. This discourse of the nation’s unified yearning dovetailed with the narrative of the political regime’s official rhetoric. The bodies charged with institutional propaganda, particularly the Special Advisory Office for Public Relations (Assessoria Especial de Relações Públicas, or AERP in Portuguese) undeniably popularized this narrative’s appeal, but it permeated a broad spectrum of civil society. There was no room in government propaganda for a distinction between the country and the military bureaucracy. What is more is that the official propaganda sought to deny on multiple accounts any conflict whenever it came up, not only between social classes, but also between races – extolling the virtues of the idea of racial democracy. In the compilation of Rodrigues’s column at Globo, À sombra das chuteiras imortais (in the shadow of immortal cleats), Rodrigues vocalized, exaggerated, and reproduced the official discourse: I am writing this introduction to reach Walther Moreira Salles. In one of my recent confessions, I referred to him as my latest childhood friend. It is impossible to pinpoint the beginning of vital friendships. They exist beyond time measured by the clock and calendar. Four or five days ago I received an invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Walther Moreira Salles. The fundraising campaign for the Brazilian team was about to start up again. And the Marquês de São Vicente mansion was going to host the CBD’s entire Technical Committee, as well as its president, João Havelange, and a series of business leaders, journalists, and athletes. It was a great night. Now, I understand that one of the most serious victories in Brazilian soccer belongs to Walther Moreira Salles. He is an admirable Brazilian. […] the national team is both the best and the poorest in the world. […]. Nobody is oblivious to the fact that our clubs are drooping in debt just like trees droop from the weight of their fruit. And if this is so, why should we make an outcast of a rich man in major sporting events? Walther Salles is sensitive to all things Brazilian. He feels what the scratch team represents for our people and for Brazil. […] Walther Salles called a meeting of the business leaders. He conveyed his enthusiasm to them. This engagement meant so much, so much. Imagine the scratch team’s situation. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I would say that if the players got sick they would have to be admitted to the indigent ward of Santa Casa. Today I dare say that the scratch team is less poor. […] The madness started much earlier. There is a year

 Nelson Rodrigues, “À sombra das chuteiras imortais,” O Globo, March 25, 1969. Rio de Janeiro, 25 mar. 1969.

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to go until the World Cup. The euphoria in the air has an element of the prophetic. People feel that this scratch team will be champions. Now we see business leaders working for the national team. This has never happened before. The simpletons, halfwits, and sluggards warn against optimism. They should turn around and do the same about pessimism. But it is easy to see that optimism is everywhere: diffuse, volatile, in the air. Yes, we breathe optimism.⁴¹

This column, written two months after the first one, contains many interesting narrative elements: the celebration of optimism, the unity produced by nationalism, and Salles front and center as the entrepreneur of this “new era.” It would not be hard for readers of the day to connect the dots between this “new era” and the Médici government, which ultimately promised a developed and economically thriving Brazil. Moreover, the columnist paints the poverty of the Brazilian team in words as a strategy to present the business leaders as key to redeeming the Brazilian team/nation. This version, however, could not be any more misleading. If Brazilian business leaders were interested in the Seleção, as the Brazilian national team is called, it was for the team’s political, economic, and symbolic strength, not for its institutional weakness. In this sense the Brazilian entrepreneurs were not chasing after some romance or savior complex in their support for the national team. What they saw in investing in soccer was a chance to reach beyond the business circles in a broadly produced plan for hegemony within civil society. Given how fluid soccer is, it constitutes a discursive space in the dispute of worldviews within civil society.⁴² The assumptions made by the campaign leave no doubt about this broader objective of winning over people’s hearts and minds by inserting previously constructed images and worldviews into soccer. This book does not aim to address how these messages were received by the entire populace. Suffice it to say that the documents found show how these groups did intend to instrumentalize soccer and the Brazilian national team to build a positive image of themselves. In May 1969, an internal memo was drafted by Giulite Coutinho, the future president of the CBF and a major coffee magnate, and Rafael de Almeida Magalhães, former sports secretary of the city of Rio de Janeiro during Carlos Lacerda’s term as Governor of Guanabara State and one of Havelange’s personal friends. The document estimated that the business leaders would be able to accumulate around 1 million cruzeiros novos, which was even more than the

 Rodrigues, “À sombra das chuteiras imortais”.  Simoni Lahud Guedes, “O Futebol brasileiro: Instituição Zero,” (Master’s thesis., Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro, 1977).

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amount requested by the CBD directors. Any surplus would be passed along to the CBD and destined to amateur sports. The document was signed by four parties and it outlined the assumptions and the objectives of the meeting: I. Assumptions: a) The private sector will take the lead in a broad community movement to raise enough funds to ensure the presence of Brazilian soccer in the 1970 World Cup; b) Demonstrate the capacity to organize and engage the private sector as a requirement for building awareness of effective community participation in carrying out a shared project; c) Show evidence of the efficiency of the private sector and the potential capacity of the community to participate in joint projects, whose scope and reach surpass the immediate interests of each member; d) Prove that the private sector is sensitive to a popular activity; e) Demonstrate that it is possible to arouse a sense of participation in a community so long as you try to stimulate it properly; f) Recognize that international sports competitions are of undeniable social and civic value, in addition to their undeniable promotional aspects; g) Make the occasional assistance from the public sector supplementary; h) Associate the community through active participation in winning the World Cup, making each individual an efficient part of the success of this shared endeavor. II. Overall goals: ‒ Organize the private sector as a condition for organizing collective participation; ‒ Solicit small contributions from everyone through a motivational campaign using artificial incentives; ‒ Promote community solidarity through the broad and generalized engagement of the private sector.⁴³

“Collective participation,” “solidarity,” “civic value,” “shared endeavor” – these are the adjectives and expressions that illustrate how the campaign’s goal was to make the feeling of nationality concrete. Furthermore, the intention was for the business community to reach out to ordinary citizens by teaching the value of the private sector. Collective participation was fundamental to achieving this goal. There is also an implicit criticism of the view that the State is the only actor concerned with disadvantaged groups (Assumption g). In this sense, the need to “supplement” public power, which would enhance the value of private initiative, is mentioned several times. This was a common political critique  Campanha Nacional Pró-Seleção Brasileira, Esquema geral de trabalho, disposto em Atas da reunião do Comitê Carioca em 14 de maio de 1969 (Rio de Janeiro, May 14, 1969). WMS. PUB. CAMP/Campanha Nacional Pró-Seleção Brasileira, Atas e Estatutos. Walter Moreira Salles Archive, IMS

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made by the business community, even in the 1970s: they resented the hegemony of a statist vision of the economy. The intention, then, was to publicly show how the private sector was concerned about the national team, which could make public opinion more aware of business activity. In the public arena, the figure of Walther Salles aspired to be the symbol capable of condensing the actions and positive image of this political group. In their educational efforts, the objective was to appear – as Nelson Rodrigues wrote – “sensitive to all things Brazilian,” and to be in touch with the subordinate classes. Diluting the class and racial conflict in a shared idea of Brazil was precisely what set the tone of the propagandistic discourse. Walther and the Brazilian business leaders would no longer be strangers to the “major events of the people” – to quote Nelson Rodrigues. This time, they would take the lead in building a modern nation. Therefore, Assumption (h.) is the one that best reveals the campaign’s general aspirations: “associate the [business] community […] with winning the World Cup.” The campaign pamphlet made this very clear by emphasizing the business community’s participation as competing with that of the government: “until today only the government and the CBD were concerned with the problems of the national soccer team.” Under this last point, the chances of success and monetization of the symbolic gains were quite high.⁴⁴ Winning the World Cup was necessary for the success of the business community’s plan. Therefore, the investments made by the business leaders appear to have linkages with a plan for the team’s physical, technical and psychological fitness. The 1968 Games were played in the altitude, and for many countries marked a pivotal moment in terms of development of the medical side of sport.⁴⁵ Thus, the funds raised by the business community would be destined to a scientific type of preparation, certain that this would guarantee the conditions for success in 1970. This gave way to the formal Mexico Plan. The belief in the methods of the science of physical education was key to getting members of the business community to open their checkbooks. The interview with Bellini Cunha reveals familiarity with the main players, the names of the physical fitness techniques and methods developed by Raoul Mollet, Kenneth Cooper, and the CISM, proof that the business community was also researching technical

 Campanha Nacional Pró-Seleção Brasileira, Panfleto distribuído nas agências ([1970]), one flyer, WMS. 08.00 PUB. Campanha Copa 1– 10. Walter Moreira Salles Archive/IMS  Gregory Quin, Anaïs Bohuon. 1968, le sport fait sa révolution à Mexico. Editions Glyphe. 2018

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cooperation.⁴⁶ After one of the meetings with the business leaders, General Siseno Sarmento pointed out to the press that the Army’s facilities would be at the disposal of the Brazilian team. It was the alliance between business leaders and the military that Bellini Cunha stressed: while the business leaders would provide the funding necessary for the investment in science and preparing the team, the Army would provide the know-how, the human capital, and the physical spaces.⁴⁷ The business leaders decided to set up a national structure subdivided into state committees. Brazil’s five major cities (Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo, Recife, Belo Horizonte and Porto Alegre) would have their own business leader committees, each headed by a prominent representative. It is still unclear who chaired the committees in Recife and Belo Horizonte, however. In the other cities, the regional logic was similar to that of the national chair held by Walther Salles. The business leaders would lend their prestige to the committee, so that others in the community would follow suit. In São Paulo, Walther Salles invited Paulo Salim Maluf, but after he turned him down, industrialist José Ermírio de Moraes (from the Votorantim Group) took up the project.⁴⁸ In Porto Alegre, Mayor Dr. Thompson Flores, a civil engineer and contractor in the electrical industry, took the lead. In 1970, Salles wrote a letter by hand asking for donations from a select group of friends: As you know, the Brazilian Business community is collaborating in a Fundraising Campaign to, at least partially, cover the hefty expenses necessary for preparing the Brazilian soccer team for the World Cup. I stepped up as the chair of this campaign at the encouragement and support of many business friends convinced that we cannot stay out of such an important event in the life of the Nation. Confident that I can count on your valuable collaboration, I am sending you a case containing one of the gold medals, produced by the Mint, that we are using to raise funds for the campaign. Any contribution above the intrinsic value of the minted coin, which is estimated at 2,000 cruzeiros novos, will be greatly appreciated by the committee.

 Raoul Mollet, Pranchas de treinamento esportivo (Rio de Janeiro: Fórum: Biblioteca de Educação Física do Exército, 1976). Kenneth Cooper, Aptidão física em qualquer idade: o método cooper (Rio de Janeiro: Fórum: Biblioteca de Educação Física do Exército, 1970; Kenneth Cooper, Capacidade anaeróbica: organizado pelo preparador dos tricampeões, Claudio Coutinho (Rio de Janeiro: Fórum: Biblioteca de Educação Física do Exército, 1972).  O Estado de São Paulo, July 1, 1969.  “Paulo Maluf será o convidado por Walther Salles para presidir o Comitê Paulista de ajuda a seleção brasileira,” Diário da Noite, July 4, 1969.

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Rest assured that National Sport will be immensely grateful to you for this generous gesture. Walther Salles⁴⁹

The documents held in the archive focus on the Rio de Janeiro Committee headed by Antônio Galloti (Light Group). The committee was further subdivided into six sections, according to business activity: Industry, Commerce, Clubs, Finance, Advertising and Media, as well as a general coordination section. It is interesting to note that the list of campaign members includes laureates of and those who awarded the Muscat Prize to Havelange in 1970 – such as Jessé Pinto Silveira (CNC) and Jorge Paulo Geyer (Rio de Janeiro Retailers Association). Wellknown people in business are also on the list, such as Carlos Alberto Vieira (President of Banco do Estado da Guanabara), Oscar Bloch (Manchete), João Calmon (Diários Associados and Cruzeiro Magazine), and Guilherme da Silveira Filho (Fábrica Bangu).⁵⁰ The list of campaign donors is long – companies such as Gillette, Grupo Light, steel company Belgo-Mineira, beer company SKOL, Banco Boavista, Banco do Estado da Guanabara, and Banco de Investimentos do Brasil (BIB). Individual donations such as those from Marcos Carneiro de Mendonça (former Fluminense goalkeeper and president of Belgo-Mineira), Amador Aguiar (Bradesco), João Havelange himself, and Ney Carvalho also stand out – each bought about 50 coins each. This diversity of agents proves how the entrepreneurs were able to engage broad sectors, although there was a predominance of individuals connected to the financial sector.⁵¹ The campaign’s bet on visibility assumed engagement. Therefore, at the time there was a belief that mere sponsorship with direct donations and advertising campaigns would engage civil society on a smaller scale, resulting in less visibility. In this sense, the campaign was based on voluntary donations. These donations were made as follows: those who wanted to contribute to the campaign would buy the Brazilian team’s gold medals, produced free of charge by the government at the Mint. Each medal was worth an intrinsic value of 2,000 cruzeiros novos (USD 50). Any amount donated above and beyond this initial cost (2,000 cruzeiros novos) was to be donated directly to the Brazilian team. The coins were

 Discurso WMS (1969). PUB. CAMP/Copa. DIS 1969. [folder number two]. Walter Moreira Salles/ Archive IMS.  Antonio Galloti, [Correspondance], destinatário: Walther Moreira Salles. Correspondências. Folder four. Campanha Nacional Pró-Seleção Brasileira. WMS. 1968. 03 – 14. Walter Moreira Salles Archive/IMS  Campanha Nacional Pró-Selação Brasileira, [Relatórios]. WMS. 1970.08.00 PUB Campanha Copa 1– 10. Relatórios. Walter Moreira Salles Archive/ IMS

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seen as “artificial incentives.” By purchasing the coins, individuals could make the donation and then partially recover the value by reselling the coins in their own commercial establishment. If they did not manage to sell them, the donors would write the cost off as a total loss, and the purchase was seen simply as a donation to the national team. In this regard, it is interesting to note the symbolic kinship between this fundraising campaign on behalf of the Brazilian team of 1970, organized by business leaders with connections to Havelange, and the one launched by Diários Associados in 1964 called Ouro para o bem do Brasil (Gold for the Good of Brazil). Soon after the civil-military coup of 1964, journalists launched a campaign to raise the “gold backing” of the Brazilian currency to ensure economic stability. They invited the population to donate jewelry, gold, and even cash to fill the government’s coffers. After 1964, when the regime needed to acquire political legitimacy in the public sphere, the campaign was a way to engage civil society to sustain the newly installed Castelo Branco government. In a formal ceremony, representatives of civil society delivered 400 kilos of gold to the president. Mobilizing civil society in a public campaign would guarantee the legitimacy of the political regime. In 1970, the memory of the Ouro para o bem do Brasil campaign was rather fresh in the minds of most of the population, who certainly knew how to establish the semantic connections between the two campaigns.⁵² Besides buying gold, the lower income population could buy Friends of the National Team diplomas. There were 25,000 diplomas printed, which cost 500 (USD 12) or 200 (USD 5) cruzeiros novos each, depending on the size. There were even low-value items such as stickers, but these do not appear on the campaign’s books. Along these lines, it is interesting to note that the high-value items (diplomas and coins) were sold at UBB branches, which were spread all over Brazil, and so, the campaign made use of the banking network to sell these assets. The internal recommendations show how Bellini Cunha asked the bank’s branch managers to offer these products to the bank’s traditional clients. Below, the campaign’s press release, carried by the major newspapers of the period, provides a few details of how to buy these items: Press release. Soccer excites everyone. It is the sport of Brazil, capable of giving us the greatest joys. And the Brazilian team, which is going to Mexico to win, needs you. The financial committee, led by Ambassador Walther Moreira Salles, president of the UBB, is selling gold medals, specially minted by the Brazilian Mint, which are on display at the Pat-

 Éderson Ricardo Schmit, “’A democracia precisa de você!’: a campanha Ouro para o bem do Brasil e o processo de legitimação do golpe civil-militar,” (Undergraduate thesis, Universidade Federal de Santa Catarina, 2016).

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riarca branch, on sale for two thousand cruzeiros novos. In addition to the coins, Brazilian fans can buy a “Friend of the National Team” diploma at any bank branch, which corresponds to their financial contribution of 500 or 200 new cruzeiros. Pitch in.⁵³

The advertising piece spins financial help for the national team as a Brazilian’s civic duty. Together with UBB, the Shell gas company was one of the first to make a public statement supporting the campaign.⁵⁴ Shell’s marketing team created the campaign’s slogan – Pra frente com as feras (Onward with the hotshots) – and designed almost all the campaign’s publicity material. The company was praised both in the opening (by Walther Salles) and in the closing (by Bellini Cunha) speeches. Shell’s marketing department was in charge of making the campaign public, placing ads in the main weekly newspapers of the time. João Saldanha, then coach of the national team, was chosen to be the face of the campaign. The appearance of João Saldanha’s name in the advertising piece signals how important the coach was for the business leaders’ marketing campaign. Saldanha was the ideal poster-boy. From the CBD leadership’s perspective, Saldanha acted as the face of the team, the showcase of the campaign and a sort of shield for Havelange all at the same time. In a surprise, though, Saldanha was fired in the run-up to the World Cup and did not lead the team in Mexico. Saldanha’s departure triggered a political crisis in the business community, which threatened to interrupt the campaign. The discussion around what led to Saldanha’s dismissal deserves another book of its own. For the purposes of the discussion here, however, suffice it to say that the firing of Saldanha upset the business leaders heading up the campaign. Reminiscing about the story, Bellini Cunha classified the episode as “troubling for Havelange, troubling for the business leaders who were there too.”⁵⁵ The first and most obvious reason for concern was that Saldanha’s departure could unsettle the team from a technical perspective. As was pointed out above, the concern over results is inherent in any marketing action when it comes to soccer. In the closing letter, Bellini Cunha himself wrote: “it wasn’t easy, since many lost interest in the campaign at a certain point as they feared our team would lose which, fortunately, thanks to the technique, organization, discipline, and determination of its members, was able to overcome the crises it went

 Campanha Nacional Pró-Seleção Brasileira, Press release ([1970]). One press release, folder four. WMS. PUB. CAMP. COPA. 1970/00.00. Walter Moreira Salles Archive/ IMS.  Alongside with American Exxon (Esso) and Brazilian Petrobras, Shell was one of the biggest oil company in the Brazilian market at the time.  Bellini Cunha, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016). Acervo pessoal: João Havelange.

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through.” The concern, then, was how Saldanha would be replaced, and whether this would eventually rattle the team from a performance standpoint.⁵⁶ Beyond the technical aspect, there was a financial consideration. Soon after Saldanha left, it was Galloti himself – as president of the Carioca Committee and national vice-chair – who made a special request. He wanted to keep Saldanha’s name on the diplomas being sold at the UBB branches. The diplomas had already been printed, and if Saldanha did not agree to keep his name on them they would have to be reprinted. Galloti delivered the following letter to Saldanha: My dear João Saldanha, As you know, the Carioca Committee for the National Team, which is in charge of fundraising, decided, among other things, to print tens of thousands of diplomas, to be distributed throughout the country. The diplomas have already been printed and prominently feature the name João Saldanha, as the team’s coach. Although you are no longer the coach, you were one of the sources of inspiration for the work committed to by the Carioca Committee and the National Committee for the National Team. In the qualifying rounds, your remarkable technical capacity and dedication at the head of the Brazilian team ensured that our colors, victory after victory, brilliantly won the right to go to Mexico. Therefore, keeping your name on the diploma is imperative. It is neither impossible nor difficult to carry out another print-run, but the diploma would be a disrespect to the milestones achieved so far were your name not on it alongside our magnificent athletes and coach Mario Lobo Zagallo. The purpose of this letter, which I am hand delivering to you, is to request that, by agreeing to the copy of this letter, the Carioca Committee be authorized to issue the diplomas bearing the signature of the coach who filled Brazilians with pride, who led the national team to overcome all the obstacles and teams that we faced in the qualifying rounds. On behalf of the Carioca Committee for the National Team I thank you for your time and consideration of this request. Sincerely and with my long-time admiration, Antonio Galloti⁵⁷

The episode was of such importance that the letter was not even sent via the mail service, but rather hand delivered by Galloti himself to Saldanha. Although he is less well-known to contemporary readers than Walther Salles, Galloti’s reputation in business circles was just as high. In 1973 Senator Jessé Pinto Freire

 Bellini Cunha, [Carta de encerramento] (Rio de Janeiro, [1970]). One letter, folder seven. Campanha Copa. WMS. PUG. COMP. COPA 70. Walter Moreira Salles Archive/ IMS  Antônio Galloti, [Correspondance] (Rio de Janeiro, March 25, 1970). To João Saldanha. One letter, folder four. “Campanhas”. 1970. WMS. 1969. 03 – 14. “Correspondências”, 45 folhas. Walter Moreira Salles Archive

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awarded Antônio Galloti with the Mascate of the Year prize, the very same prize that the former had awarded Havelange in 1970. Galloti was also named “executive of the year” by Visão Magazine. In the international arena, Galloti was part of a select international board of Chase Manhattan Bank, alongside figures known by the transnational bourgeoisie, such as Giovanni Agnelli, president of FIAT, and Hermann Abbs, from Deutsche Bank. However, whereas Salles’s connection with the dictatorial regime can be characterized as pragmatic, Galloti’s ideological adherence to the dictatorial regime was well-known. Galloti’s biography appears connected to anti-communist groups and right-wing movements. In the 1930s, he was one of the leaders of Brazilian Integralism, and actively participated in the fascist movement. In the past, he even attended meetings at Plínio Salgado’s home as early as 1931. At the end of the war, he justified his support for fascist ideas as an imperative need to fight communism. He resorted to this justification again in 1962. This time as one of the leaders and financiers of the Institute for Research and Social Studies (IPES in Portuguese), he actively participated in the group’s meetings and in the architecture of the 1964 coup. ⁵⁸ In 1970, Galloti and the other business leaders thought that Saldanha’s name could lure sales of the team’s diplomas, and so they did not hesitate to write to him to retain his name. What was at stake for Galloti and the other business leaders was a marketing strategy, and Saldanha’s name had commercial value. It was important, therefore, that his name remain on the diploma. In this context it is worth noting that ideological differences do not appear as an issue in the documentation. This point is made even starker by the fact that it was Galloti, precisely the businessperson most aligned with the political regime, who delivered the letter to Saldanha. In the end, Saldanha acquiesced and agreed to the request. In this case, it is difficult to see what Saldanha may have bargained for in the negotiation. Given his vanity, he may have even felt requited by the pride of having his name printed on the national team’s diplomas. Prior to the trip to Mexico, the last scene of the campaign was the invitation Havelange extended to Salles to lead the delegation. In a letter that that even circulated in the main newspapers of the time, Salles declines the invitation:

 René Armand Dreifuss, 1964: a conquista do Estado: ação política, poder e golpe de classe (Petrópolis: Vozes, 1981); Sonia Dias, “Antônio Galloti,” in Dicionário Histórico-Biográfico Brasileiro ed. Sonia Dias, accessed February 29, 2019, http://www.fgv.br/cpdoc/acervo/dicionarios/ verbete-biografico/gallottiantonio?fbclid=IwAR2aNY61Qh1jMPhB-v7J4VO8plhcqYLZE5C_Gipk6 xAebfXZtd_67IaFhMA.

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My dear friend João Havelange, I was moved upon the receipt of your invitation to lead the Brazilian soccer delegation to the 1970 World Cup. In my unfortunately not-so-short life as a public figure, rarely has the offer of such a selfless position that appeals so much to the passions of dedication that we are all capable of, to a greater or lesser extent, moved me so much. I have been collaborating, modestly but actively, as you know, in the critical financial efforts so that Brazil can unquestionably represent itself and do justice to its traditions. The idea of combining this effort with a direct presence in the competition and, even more so, the effective leadership of the national team, is enticing. Nevertheless, I cannot accept the invitation. I believe that, despite my many duties, I would always find a way to take the necessary time off. But what I lack, and in you I am confiding because I am sure you will not assume that I am fishing for compliments, is the specific skill to take on such a leadership role. As a mere aficionado, no matter how enthusiastic, of the national colors, I would most likely be a bad manager who would not know how to give our team the best solution in a timely fashion. Instead of helping the national team, I would harm it, and I don’t want to carry such remorse. That is why, although from the bottom of my heart I appreciate your invitation, I beg you to please excuse me from it, and allow me, as is the right and wish of us all, the complete freedom of being a fan, whose only goal is victory itself. Nothing else. […] Rio de Janeiro, March 4, 1970.⁵⁹

Havelange also invited Salles to become an “honorary delegate,” a purely formal and honorary role.⁶⁰ This time, Salles did not reply to Havelange in writing. The letter above shows that he was clearly concerned that his reputation could be damaged by a loss. In any case, the end of the story is well documented. After Walther Salles declined, Havelange invited Brigadier Jerônimo Bastos (president of the National Sports Council, CND) to lead the delegation. It is interesting to note that the Brigadier was not the first choice. The bond between Havelange and the business leaders – represented by Salle s – was as strong if not stronger than the one he built with the Brazilian Sports Confederation and the bureaucratic core of the Brazilian state. By rejecting the invitation to lead the national team, Salles helped to make the business community’s support of the 1970 team an invisible episode in Brazil’s long-term social memory. In the short-term, however, Brazil’s victory allowed the business community to profit both symbolically and politically in civil society. Salles managed to project himself as an ordinary man “among the people,” a status that certainly helped him to expand his bank.

 Walther Moreira Salles, [Correspondance] (Rio de Janeiro, March 4, 1970). To: João Havelange. One letter, folder four. Campanhas. 1970. WMS. 1969. 03 – 14. Correspondências, 45 folhas. Walter Moreira Salle Archives.  João Havelange, [Correspondência] (Rio de Janeiro, March 14, 1970). To: Walther Moreira Salles. One letter, folder four. Campanhas. 1970. WMS. 1969. 03 – 14. Correspondências, 45 folhas. Walter Moreira Salles Archives.

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For Havelange, the victory brought peace of mind. Now he needed to seize that moment to give shape and color to a discourse that placed him at the center of the victory.

Where is the World Cup won? The coverage of Brazil’s victories in the foreign press can serve as a parameter. In 1958, the French magazine France Football published a series of articles on Brazilian soccer after the win in Sweden. Before the World Cup, French journalist Gabriel Hanot did not place Brazil among the favorites. Hanot had traveled to South America. After talking to managers and soccer players, his analysis of the Brazilian team was very pessimistic, betting on an early elimination. After Brazil’s victory, however, the magazine’s line changed and pointed to a golden generation capable of dominating soccer for years to come. The magazine tried to extrapolate this point to explain the causes and origins of Brazilian soccer’s success. Permeated by racial/national stereotypes, the newspaper attributed the success to the players’ freedom, talent, sway, and ability to improvise. This kind of soccer thrived in a country like Brazil, averse to rules and social order. Even in France, the narrative that attributed an excessively individualistic character to the soccer practiced in Brazil is old, dating back to the 1938 World Cup at least.⁶¹ This portrayal made no room for coaches and managers – and the explanation for the team’s success lied exclusively in the players’ talent, which was seen as something metaphysical, if not a product of biology.⁶² In spite of the fact that Havelange had been in the role as president of the CBD since 1957, the French magazine did not mention his name in connection with direct responsibility for the victory at all.⁶³ Twelve years later, in the 1970 World Cup, the situation had changed. The European public was more familiar with Brazilian soccer by then and treated it with less exoticism than in 1958. France Football’s international expansion project resulted in staffing a full-time Brazil correspondent: journalist Alain Fon-

 Arlei Sander Damo, “Artistas primitivos: os brasileiros na Copa do Mundo de 1938 segundo os jornais franceses” (paper presented at XXIV Simpósio Nacional de História, São Lopoldo, 2007) and José Sérgio Leite Lopes, “L’invention du style brésilien,” Actes de Recherche em Sciences Sociales 104 (1993): 27.  Filipe Mostaro, “Os técnicos, os campos e as copas: imprensa, narrativa e o imaginário da elite cultural do esporte,” (PhD diss., Universidade do Estado do Rio de Janeiro, Rio de Janeiro, 2019).  France Football Collection, volume 1957– 1958, FIFA Archives.

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tain. With the growing European interest in local soccer, he started writing weekly articles on the subject (especially from 1961 on). After 1970, it is worth mentioning that Fontain’s texts were published both in the European edition of France Football, as well as in the African edition (founded in 1969). Fontain wrote three books about Brazilian soccer: Le Divin football du Brésil (the divine soccer of Brazil) (1963), Le Roi Pelé (King Pelé) (1970), and Brésil: Foot-Folie, footmagie (Brazil: Foot-craze, foot-magic) (1998). The presence of an international correspondent in Brazil strengthened relations between the local leaders and the international press. Jacques Ferran, editor of France Football, visited Brazil on more than one occasion, always hosted by Fontain and Havelange. Ferran was the president and founder of the Union of Sports Journalists of France, which awarded João Havelange an honorary membership in 1971. In this regard, it should be noted that the French Football Federation (FFF) had long-standing ties with France Football. Accordingly, the FFF was one of the dissident European sports federations that supported Havelange’s bid for the FIFA presidency. It seems clear how the effects of the connections between journalists and managers were able to modify, at least for a while, the European hegemonic representation of Brazilian soccer. In 1970, the magazine published a series of articles emphasizing Brazil’s physical, scientific and technical readiness. This time, the emphasis was on the CBD’s organization, and the high sums invested in preparing the team. The magazine’s pages feature trainers Carlos Alberto Parreira, Mario Zagallo, and Claudio Coutinho as experts in modern soccer. The scientific discourse matched João Havelange’s interests. Armed with this narrative, Havelange was able to tell a story that emphasized his central role in overcoming hurdles. What this narrative stressed was no longer the creative and inventive capacity of a “people” defined by their natural qualities. In practice, though, the spotlight on the players faded as the limelight on the actions of an enlightened elite intensified. The elite alone, according to this version, would be able to lead the nation with science and technical skill resulting in the desired economic, political, and sporting success. Havelange’s name was thus catapulted to the front page in 1970. Constantly quoted in the publication, he appeared giving long interviews in France Football and other international media, an unprecedented step in his career. Over the next four years, the magazine published a series of articles on the Brazilian sports manager, transforming him into a well-known figure for the European public and, in many ways, cooperating with his victory for the FIFA presidency. An interview with Havelange was featured on a two-page spread to mark the Independence Cup in 1972. The headline was “24 hours with Havelange.” Published in France and French-speaking Africa, the piece was part of a series about the Independence Cup. This set of stories was intended to present Brazil

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to the world: its stadiums, local food, fans and, finally, the day-to-day of the greatest local sports leader. The report showcases Havelange talking about his political views, his morning exercise routine, his life bouncing between Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, and his businesses in the chemical manufacturing and transport (bus) industries.⁶⁴ The narrative of the Brazilian political regime gradually clung onto Havelange’s image. As a result, he emerged as the natural symbol of a Brazilian elite on the rise, the natural representative of a country gaining prominence on the international stage. Havelange’s association with the Brazil of the corporate-military dictatorship came into focus when a reporter asked him about the country’s political situation. On this occasion Havelange defended a technocratic worldview, entirely aligned with the corporate-military regime. My ideas are clear. I am a supporter of an authoritarian democracy. We are at ease with the technocrats. The technocrat is king. He studies and solves problems […] The politician is a parrot who is all talk but no action. We are at ease with the technocrats, lost with the politicians. Brazil is becoming a gigantic nation in every field because it is inspired by the work of the technocrats. […] When the supreme leader, Médici, takes sports so seriously and is sensitive, the young generation can rest assured that their future is rosy.⁶⁵

Technique, Havelange adds, is the instrument by which the will of the people makes itself felt. Just as the economic triumph of Médici’s Brazil was the result of the symbiosis between workers and an enlightened elite, so too was Brazil’s World Cup victory in 1970 a reflection of this alliance. As in the reconciliation of class and race, Havelange and Pelé became analogous to the two harmonic poles of this relationship between the people and the elite. Not so coincidently, columnist Vargas Netto wrote a long ovation to Havelange under the title of “O Pelé Louro” (The Blond Pelé). Vargas Netto used the column to advocate that Havelange was to the national team off the field what Pelé was on it. Denying the conflict did not make it go away, though. In 2006, in a conversation with Ernesto Rodrigues, Havelange let a sentence full of ambiguity and hierarchy slip. With a stab of irritation, as if he believed in the narrative of his own celebrity, Havelange sneered: “Pelé? As if he were a genius; I did everything for him.” In Brazil’s so-called “racial democracy” such moments betray who leads and who is led.⁶⁶

 France Football, FIFA Archives, August 5th, 1972.  Max Urbine and Alain Fontain, France Football, March 28, 1972.  “Um Pelé Louro,” in João Havelange: determinação e coragem ed. Vivaldo Azevedo (Rio de Janeiro: Cia. Nacional, 1978).

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At this point, it is important to emphasize that we are not trying to minimize the impact of physical fitness as science of sport and exercise. The effects of addressing the Brazilian team’s physical fitness in 1970 are widely discussed in the literature. The point is that the appropriation of this discourse as the reason for the triumph aimed, above all, to uphold Havelange as a capable leader and organizer guided by science and technology. The explanation for the thrashing due to the collective disorganization in 1966 cast Havelange as the villain. This time, there was a concerted effort in emphasizing the discourse of physical fitness so that Havelange could this time be the hero behind any victory. In this sense, the outreach to journalists was a calculated move to enhance and disseminate his version of the success wherever possible. In Brazil, Havelange adopted similar practices to those described above. Carlos Alberto Pinheiro (from O Globo newspaper), for example, joined him on a trip to Australia, as attested by diplomatic documents at Itamaraty. Havelange used the trip to seek the Australian Football Federation’s vote. News reports attached to the Itamaraty documentation show that Havelange offered the Australians not only a visit by the Santos and Brazilian national teams, but also a spot in the Independence Cup. The Australians, however, remained loyal to Stanley Rous. This document is backed by testimonials from people connected to Havelange: they report that Ricardo Serran (Jornal do Brasil), Geraldo Romualdo dos Santos (O Cruzeiro and Jornal dos Sports), and Vivaldo de Azevedo (president of the Sports Writers’ Association of the State of Guanabara) would accompany him on campaign trips. In this sense, it is necessary to understand that these narratives do not come about spontaneously, but rather are closely connected to political disputes and personal relationships.⁶⁷ In addition to strengthening its relations with the press to disseminate its own narrative of the victory, the Boletim da CBD (the CBD bulletin) became the official playbook of Havelange’s campaign for the FIFA presidency. An uncommon primary source, the bulletin can be used to unravel the relationships between politicians, the military, business leaders, and sports managers in Brazil from 1968 to 1974. Just to provide an idea of how much was spent on the Bulletin, in June 1974 the publication even had a special edition in German (Frankfurt Congress) and English. Between 1968 and 1970, the bulletin was merely informative, with a list of results, information on trips and friendlies, elections in the amateur federations and information from the sport courts of justice. After Brazil’s victory in Mexico, the magazine got a new graphic design. Previously in black

 Brazilian Consulate at Sydney, Passagem por Sydney do Presidente João Havelange (February 17, 1972). One report, box Foot-boll, reference: 540.6341 (00), 1971-1980.

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and white, it became a color publication with an A4 cover. Moreover, it started producing journalistic content under the supervision of editor Vivaldo Azevedo, with articles featuring Havelange’s trips, relations with Itamaraty, campaign speeches, and even institutional and open support for him. On the eve of Brazil’s opening game in Mexico, Havelange made a long speech in which he anticipated possible criticism. Published in full in the CBD Bulletin, the speech underscores the appropriateness and importance of emphasizing Brazil’s preparation for Havelange’s projects: As soon as we returned from the last Championship, we got to work on a new project focused on the 1970 World Cup. […] Therefore, well in advance, we formed a Technical Commission with the purpose of studying all the problems in detail, we invited the most renowned doctors, specialists in sports medicine, including the magnificent work developed by the Health Office of the State of Guanabara. […] At CBD’s expense, we sent the physical trainer Admildo Chirol to attend, as an observer, the Coaches Congress, held in Yugoslavia; Captain Cláudio Coutinho, to France, where he attended the National Institute of Physical Education’s course at Joinville de le Pont, the largest specialized center in France, and to NASA, in the United States, at the Astronaut Preparation Center, where he could, as an observer, improve his knowledge regarding the issue of altitude; professor Carlos Alberto Parreira, was sent to take specialized courses in Europe; physician Lídio Toledo, head of the medical team, traveled twice to Mexico, and to Venezuela, to participate in Conferences where problems related to altitude were specifically examined and discussed; our former tactical coach João Saldanha went to Europe, traveling to various countries as an observer, with the special and high purpose of learning about the evolution of European soccer and studying the technique used by the our national team’s potential opponents; also Mr. João Saldanha, accompanied by the physician Lídio Toledo, who was also head of the medical team, went to Mexico and Venezuela twice, to participate in conferences where problems related to altitude were specifically examined and discussed. João Saldanha, together with physician Dr. Lídio Toledo, went to Mexico to scout out and choose the cities where the national team could be hosted, analyzing issues such as hotels, food, climate, etc. […] As we can see, the measures that a director and the person in charge of Brazilian soccer needed to take were taken. […] All the technical resources were provided by the CBD. To prove our claim, we have just received news that a medical commission from the human adaptation section of the Institute of Human Physiology in Milan, at the initiative of UNESCO, visited all the national teams. […] What we cannot do is to play for the players, nor be responsible for the numerical results of the games. Our mission has been accomplished. Let the others fulfill theirs and bring Brazil joy supreme. (emphasis added)⁶⁸

The speech makes it clear that for Havelange to raise his profile he needed to emphasize whenever possible the discourse of organization, planning followed  “Discurso de abertura da Assembleia Geral Extraordinária,” Boletim da CBD, June, 1970, 13 – 20.

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to a T, and his effective resource management. On the other hand, it was necessary to hedge against losses. In this speech, when he had not yet won the trophy, Havelange set up a buffer, even if minimally, so as not to be placed in the center of eventual failures. The triumph acted as a window of opportunity for Havelange – Brazilian and South American leaders suddenly were able to vault themselves up onto the international scene. The discourse of a soccer-based development guided by scientific methods resonated with Third World countries. This international undertaking would only happen, however, after the step of consolidating the national networks. Now that results were delivered and the partnership with the business leaders was cemented, the truce with the military took place through the mutual celebration.

The blast of gifts Brazil’s victory in the World Cup meant consecration for Havelange. Whereas he was presented as a symbol of loss in 1966, upon the victory in 1970 he was identified as being one of those directly responsible for the win. This time, there were so many awards that it was necessary to create a Commission for Tributes to João Havelange, chaired by Sylvio Pacheco. Havelange’s excessive concern with ceremony, honor, and etiquette did not go unnoticed by his rivals. In 1978, looking back at the 1974 election, Stanley Rous mocked, “there were so many decorations that together they could sink a ship.”⁶⁹ In fact, the CBD president loved honors: his personal file holds a collection of diplomas and certificates awarded by entities in civil society throughout his lifetime. The windows of his office on Avenida Rio Branco displayed his awards to passers-by. Hung side by side, framed awards lined the corridor. For the purposes of this discussion, an analysis of Havelange’s CV shows how a good share of all his awards were received between 1971 and 1974; in other words, they preceded his election to the FIFA presidency. These awards should not only be seen as Havelange’s curriculum vitae. In practice, they should be seen as the final act of a pact, an alliance, a partnership.⁷⁰ This compilation (Annex) of the diplomas found in Havelange’s files and the CV submitted for his candidacy for the FIFA presidency, as well as that found in the IOC archives in Lausanne. It goes without saying that this table ex-

 Stanley Rous, Football Words: a lifetime in Sport (Londres: Faber and Faber, 1978).  Check Annex to see those institutions that honored Havelange before the election in 1974.

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cludes awards and honors received prior to July 1970. This list sheds light on the extent of Havelange’s network and the ties he made after Brazil became a threetime World Champion; it includes civil society associations (such as the press, clubs, sports associations, business sectors), international associations (from Portugal, France and Argentina), city councils, state governments, the federal government itself, and even religious associations. What stands out, to get to the point, are the prizes directly linked to the expansion of the Brazilian championship starting in 1971. The championship prioritized the teams that built stadiums. In this sense, the award granted by the Aracaju City Council in 1972 was linked to the opening of the Batistão stadium, an event reported in the CBD Bulletin. A similar situation occurred in Mato Grosso (Campo Grande, then part of the State of Mato Grosso) – Havelange visited governor Pedro Pedrossian Porto during the stadium’s construction. Besides politicians, one can assume that Havelange cultivated relationships with businesspeople interested in the construction (contractors) and financing (banks) of these architectural projects. The advertising pieces in the CBD Bulletin may also be a sign of this close relationship – Light (Antônio Galloti), Banco do Estado da Guanabara (Antônio Carlos de Almeida Braga), Fundo de Investimento Ney Carvalho (Ney Carvalho). In this sense it is quite interesting to note how this laid the groundwork for creating ties at various levels of civil society and the Brazilian state itself.⁷¹ Represented on the list by the Association of Guanabara State Writers, Havelange’s alliance with the press was also fundamental. It enabled him to enjoy legitimacy in the public sphere and rub elbows with the country’s leading journalists without being in the crosshairs of any harsh criticism. Finally, the international awards from three key countries in his campaign for the FIFA presidency – France, Argentina and Portugal – should be highlighted as part of this alliance. Many entrepreneurial civil society activities were started and strengthened during the business-military regime. Historian Virginia Fontes has drawn attention to the dictatorial government’s project of fostering and encouraging business civil society organizations as a parallel process to the dismantling of trade unions, workers’ newspapers, and other forms of working-class associations. One of the ways they managed to foster and encourage these relations be-

 “Havelange visita Campo Grande,” Boletim da CBD, August.

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tween the dominant groups was through the distribution of awards and tributes, and by throwing parties.⁷² Understanding the logic behind the distribution of these awards benefits from dusting the jacket off one of the foundational texts of contemporary anthropology: Marcel Mauss’s essay, The Gift. In this work Mauss drew attention to the centrality of the “economy of giving” in so-called primitive societies. The specificity of this gift economy is that it is ambiguously located on the threshold between obligation and freedom. The paradox of the gift exchange is that it is simultaneously a voluntary act and an obligation. The granting of a gift, in this sense, obliges the recipient to reciprocate. This obligation, however, is not produced in a mechanical way as in the exchange and circulation of goods. In general, there is a ritualization to the exchange that creates the conditions for the circulation of gifts.⁷³ Considering this tradition, it is interesting to note how Havelange’s receipt of awards also meant an increased granting of awards by the CBD. In practice, the CBD as a political body and Havelange’s political persona were indistinguishable. In the public sphere, the institution could not be separated from him, the individual. In January 1971, the Brazilian Sports Confederation held a party to award several honors to individuals who helped to win Brazil’s third World Cup. That night, none of the players who were three-time champions showed up, a glaring omission that signals the rift between the CBD officials and the soccer players. The ceremony was hosted by Abílio de Almeida, then a member of FIFA’s Executive Committee and general vice-president of the CBD. Alfredo Curvello, secretary-general for sports at the time, got the ritual rolling with a long speech in which he hailed the two people most responsible for the feat: Brazil’s President, Emílio Garrastazu Médici, and the president of the CBD, João Havelange: A year ago, Brazil, not only sports Brazil, but the whole of Brazil, rediscovered itself, pinched itself to make sure that it was alive and would become greater through the victory consecrated in the definitive words of its supreme leader, President Médici. […] The phrase, no, the sentence “Nobody can hold this country back,” illustrated by events and achievements, is closely tied to June 21, 1970. The idea for the official celebrations planned by the CBD, and the great call made through the press, radio and television was a happy one. […]

 Virginia Fontes, Brasil e o capital-imperialismo: teoria e história (Rio de Janeiro, Editora UFRJ, 2010).  Marcel Mauss, “Ensaio sobre a dádiva: forma e razão de troca nas sociedades arcaicas,” in Sociologia & Antropologia ed. Marcel Mauss (São Paulo, Cosac & Naify, 2003).

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And everything was done thanks to the full sacrifice that he (Havelange) made of himself. (emphasis added)⁷⁴

Médici was unable to attend the party in Rio de Janeiro. Havelange, however, traveled to Brasília, and presented him with a special CBD diploma inscribed with Medici’s name as the honorary president of the institution. The photos of Médici and Havelange were published in the Bulletin. After Médici, Havelange was next in the line of honors: for the first time in history, the CBD now had a Grand Honorary Member. The party held at the CBD headquarters also included international awards. Stanley Rous, FIFA president, Teófilo Salinas, president of CONMEBOL, and Guillermo Cañedo, president of the Mexican Football Federation, were all honored and chosen as “Honorary Members” of the CBD. Havelange’s campaign for the FIFA presidency was taking off. Of the three international honorees, only Teófilo Salinas made it to the party. Cañedo, who came to Brazil the following year for the Independence Cup, sent a message of appreciation.⁷⁵ Besides this select group, the granting of “honorary memberships” is striking. In the case of the CBD, there are no minimum requirements in its bylaws regarding the granting of membership when they are honorary. This type of award is completely tied to the political disputes within the entity and is determined by the will of the so-called “General Assembly.” Granting honors thus became an exaggerated ritual. No less than 65 honorary memberships were granted in the year following Brazil’s third World Cup title. The illustrates how the years 1971 and 1972 were outliers in the CBD’s history: At first glance we capture the following snapshot. In 1943, there is an increase directly related to Brazil’s entry into World War II. The war effort drove engagement among clubs and various members of civil society, leading to an upswing in the awards granted. In 1950 – another outlier – the five awards granted are closely linked to Brazil’s status as the host of the 1950 World Cup. The bump in 1964 is not directly connected with the coup d’état in April, but rather with Chile’s second world championship. The CBD’s award ceremony took place in January 1964, therefore, long before the civil-military coup. The point is that even in the years considered to be exceptional, the standard was to limit such honors to five per year or at most seventeen per year (1943). Nothing comparable to the years that followed the third title victory. In 1971, 65 honorees were chosen; in 1972, 80. The public justification was Brazil’s victory, but Havelange used the awards to build an extensive political network. The complete list of awardees is

 “Discurso de Alfredo Curvello,” Boletim da CBD, January, 1971, 30.  Boletim da CBD, January, 1971.

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Graph 2: Annual number of honorary memberships granted by the CBD. Source: CBD Bulletin.

at the end of this work, but it is worth mentioning (in order) the first eleven: Air Marshal Márcio de Souza Mello, Minister General Siseno Sarmento, Lieutenant Brigadier Manoel Vinhaes, Division General Antônio Jorge Correa, Admiral Rubens Mattos, Minister Jarbas Passarinho, Air Brigadier Geraldo Labart Lebre, Ambassador Walther Moreira Salles, Ambassador João Pinheiro, Ambassador Francisco Negrão de Lima⁷⁶ and diplomat Gilberto Velloso. It is symptomatic that some of the honorees ended up tagging along with Havelange to the FIFA presidency in 1974, which goest to show how that moment was the basis for the building of a lasting political alliance. Gilberto Velloso serves as one of the best examples of this. In 1970, diplomat Gilberto Velloso accompanied the Brazilian team to Mexico, providing logistical support. His name was honored well before even key members in the Mexico campaign, such as Antônio Galloti, José Ermírio de Moraes, and head of delegation Antônio do Passo. Havelange handpicked diplomat Gilberto Velloso to attend the Frankfurt Con Negrão de Lima, former governor of Guanabara State, (1965 – 1971) “Verbete Francisco Negrão de Lima,” in Dicionário Histórico-Biográfico Brasileiro ed. Christiane Jalles de Paula and Fernando Lattman-Weltman (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2010), accessed May 20, 2019, http://www.fgv.br/ cpdoc/acervo/dicionarios/verbete-biografico/francisco-negrao-de-lima.

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gress in 1974. Velloso was in Brazil at the time and traveled only for the purpose of that event. Coincidentally, João Pinheiro (who had been Brazil’s Ambassador to Mexico in 1970) happened to be Brazil’s Ambassador to Bonn (West Germany) at the time of Velloso’s trip. This fate will be explored later on, but Velloso played a key role in softening Havelange’s pro-China speech at the 1974 Congress, and for dissipating the start of a crisis between the FIFA president-elect and Itamaraty.⁷⁷ As a matter of hierarchy, the military appeared at the head of the list of honorees. Except for three ambassadors and one diplomat, the other seven awardees listed were career military personnel. The biography of these military staff decorated by the CBD points to their technical rather than political background – all were directors and/or in charge of the research and teaching departments at the Naval Academy, the Army Physical Education School, and the Air Force. These institutions provided the technical-intellectual support for the team’s physical fitness. The victory to a certain extent symbolized Havelange’s reconciliation with the main sectors of the military government. After all, who would publicly question his position after winning the 1970 World Cup? General Siseno Sarmento had a close relationship with Havelange. Affiliated with the Army Physical Education School, Siseno Sarmento made it possible to structure the national team’s work plan. Sarmento was a regular presence both at the CBD and the dinners promoted by the business leaders working on behalf of the 1970 Brazil team. It is also worth stating that Sarmento was one of the intellectual architects of the regime’s repressive policies and set up much of the structure of the Center for Internal Defense Operations (CODI, in Portuguese). That night, Siseno was one of the CBD’s distinguished guests.⁷⁸ Havelange certainly made the most of the euphoric climate to tighten his relationship with the government and bury any hatchets brandished in the aftermath the 1966 loss. What is certain is that by 1970 the conflicts between the government and Havelange, which charged the atmosphere at the CBD between 1966 and 1969, quelled. Once viewed with suspicion by the military leadership, Havelange was now mistaken for an agent of the bureaucracy itself. Relations between Havelange and government agencies, particularly the Ministry of Educa-

 Embaixada do Brasil em Bonn, Ofício nº 285. Secreto/Urgente (Brasília – DF). Destinatary: Secretaria de Estado. Índice – Eleição do Senhor João Havelange para a presidência da FIFA. A questão RPC/República Popular da China. 1 ofício. Itamaraty Archives, Brasília – DF.  “Verbete Siseno Ramos Samento,” in Dicionário Histórico-Biográfico Brasileiro ed. Christiane Jalles de Paula and Fernando Lattman-Weltman (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2010), accessed May 19, 2019, http://www.fgv.br/Cpdoc/Acervo/dicionarios/verbete-biografico/siseno-ramos-sarmento.

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tion and Culture, under Jarbas Passarinho, and Itamaraty improved at this point.⁷⁹ In any case, the full list shows that it is mostly made up of members of civil society. It includes journalists (Isaac Amar, Carlos Alberto Pinheiro, Ricardo Serran), soccer club presidents (Francisco Laport, Fluminense; Wadih Helu, Corinthians; Laudo Natel, São Paulo), politicians, contractors (Gil Cezar, the engineer who oversaw the construction of the Mineirão stadium), business leaders and bankers (Galloti, Bellini Cunha, Ney Carvalho). A good number of those who would grant Havelange awards in the following years had been honored by the Brazilian Sports Confederation. It was these sectors and individuals who went on to lend ideological, material and practical support in his run for the FIFA presidency. The alliance between Havelange and business groups was critical. Once the awards were received, the bond of obligation between both parties was cemented for mutual reciprocation. The archives of the International Olympic Committee hold Havelange’s correspondence, which reveals that he asked for tickets, spaces and hotel reservations for business friends (such as Ney Carvalho and Antônio Carlos de Almeida Braga) who supported him throughout his campaign for the FIFA presidency. Although Walther Salles presented himself as a symbol of the business leaders championing the national team, he no longer involved himself with the CBD, much less with Havelange’s campaign for the FIFA presidency. The award from the CBD was, in a way, compensation for the time he and the business leaders had spent and for their engagement. It was also a way of sharing with the business groups the symbolic profits reaped from becoming three-time champions. This was a victory for the nation and the business leaders played a very important role in this accomplishment. For Havelange, it was also a networking opportunity. Other businesspeople, who were engaged in supporting the 1970 team, would continue to stand firmly by him, providing material and economic support to his campaign for the FIFA presidency. Besides personal friends such as Ney Carvalho or Antônio Carlos de Almeida Braga, the most well-known case is that of José Ermírio de Morais (connected to FIESP and Votorantim), who was invited by the CBD to represent Brazil at the Frankfurt Congress. Three years earlier, Morais was one of the CBD’s honorary members. The business leaders’ support is explained in part by their esprit de corps – Havelange’s victory at FIFA was seen as a symbol of this group’s technical capacity and economic organization. Havelange was “a Brazilian businessman at FIFA,” as stated in an

 Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).

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editorial published in Comércio & Mercados magazine in July 1974. When he was inaugurated as President of FIFA on June 11, 1974, he had company, anything but alone.⁸⁰

 “Um empresário brasileiro na FIFA,” Comércio e Mercados: um órgão da confederação nacional do comércio, do SESC e do SENAC, 1974, year eight, number 84.

Chapter 4 At the heart of the Brazilian miracle: casing and political propaganda in Havelange’s election as the president of FIFA (1971 – 1974) Sitting next to João Havelange in São Paulo, I felt the heart of the Brazilian miracle. Max Urbine, journalist of France Football ¹ The heart, the soul of this huge body [soccer in Brazil] is called João Havelange. Alfredo Curvello²

Tying the knots: connecting the global and the national There were two concurrent facts around 1970: FIFA was in an institutional crisis and Havelange was enjoying success as a leader in Brazilian and South American soccer. How and when did these two stories intersect? In other words, at what point did the crisis in the sports institutions meet the figure of João Havelange? How did João Havelange’s political ambitions appear as a solution to FIFA’s political crisis? In retrospect, it seems easy to connect the dots and see that the alliance between the Afro-Asian and South American countries was the natural way to challenge European dominance in FIFA. However, this alliance was only possible thanks to mediation by actors in Brazilian civil society and the international sports community. Ties and networks parallel to both Havelange’s success in Brazil and the FIFA crisis were key to his triumph to the FIFA presidency in 1974. This chapter aims to describe and untangle the political networks that supported Havelange’s ambitions at FIFA. Kicking off this discussion, let’s define when political plans started to emerge around Havelange. In this regard, 1968 was the key year for the unofficial launch of his candidacy. Havelange’s fortunes in Brazil were complicated by the political purges promoted by the corporate-military dictatorship. It would be wrong to exclude the hypothesis that Havelange suggested his candidacy to FIFA as a kind of voluntary political exile. With increased restrictions on civil

 Max Urbine, “Com Havelange para o ano 2000”, in João Havelange determinação e coragem, ed. Vivaldo Coaracy (Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1978), 239. This article was originally published at France Football magazine, and later reprinted in French and Portuguese at CBD Bulletin.  Alfredo Curvello, “O coração da CBD”, Boletim da CBD, August, 1973. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-009

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rights, the president of the Brazilian Sports Confederation (CBD) knew that his political survival depended directly on the outcome of the World Cup in Mexico, and he bet a lot to win. In this regard, it is noteworthy that his candidacy for the FIFA presidency was not officially launched until August 12, 1970, after Brazil’s victory in Mexico. Brazil did win that World Cup, paving the way domestically for him to seek the presidency of FIFA. In much the same measure 1968 represented a turning point and an improvement in conditions abroad. The political project of the GANEFO, which aimed to build an institutional alternative to the IOC, was thwarted, leading international sport delegates from the Third World to acknowledge that their demands would not be heard using the revolutionary tactics of trying to create a rival institution but rather through institutional reform. In the first half of the 1960s, the pressure came mainly from the Asian continent. From 1965 on, the African countries took on more of leadership role with a stronger voice. This is partly due to the African independence movements achieving their goals later than those of Asia. The struggle for independence in African countries dragged all the way into the first half of the 1970s in the case of Portuguese colonies. By 1968, however, the continent had practically thrown off the yoke of colonialism.³ The settling of the independence processes gave way to greater coordination amongst delegates at sports institutions. At the time their demands revolved around the expulsion of South Africa from sport institutions and more funding for development programs.⁴ The problem was that without a concrete alternative as a political horizon, delegates from the Third World once again found themselves in a tenuous situation within sports institutions. In a seeming attempt to gauge their strength, the International Olympic Committee decided to readmit South Africa to compete in the Mexico City Games. The Afro-Asian bloc countries reacted immediately by boycotting the 1968 Mexico Olympic Games. It is interesting to note that Havelange, also a member of the IOC, spoke out against the Executive Committee’s decision to readmit South Africa. On this occasion, he was the only member from Latin American to march alongside the Afro-Asian countries in opposition to the decision that allowed South Africa to return to the Olympic movement.⁵

 Eric Hobsbawm, A era dos extremos (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1998); Jurgen Osterhammell, Decolonization: a short history (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2017).  Paul Darby, “Africa, Third World Solidarity and the Fifa presidency”, in Africa, Football and FIFA: Politics, Colonialism and Resistance (Portland: Frank Cass, 1998), 57.  João Havelange, Letter João Havelange to IOC (Rio de Janeiro, March 13, 1968), 1, “Sujet affaire afrique sud somme opinion demande revision doit etre soumise commission executive. Cio sa-

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The following year, in November 1969, in a preparatory meeting to the World Cup in Mexico, the idea of launching a South American candidate for the presidency of FIFA begins to take shape. The oral sources collected by Havelange’s biographer Ernesto Rodrigues locate the unofficial launch of Havelange’s candidacy at a meeting in Guadalajara, Mexico.⁶ The printed sources corroborate Ernesto Rodrigues’ version. At a 1969 meeting of the World Cup Organizing Committee, Guillermo Cañedo, then president of the Mexican Football Federation and of the World Cup Organizing Committee, is said to have suggested the idea of holding a tournament in Brazil. At that point, Mexico was having trouble to finish building the stadiums for the World Cup. In Havelange’s answer he said Brazil had eight to ten stadiums fit for hosting a World Cup but bemoaned that host countries had already been set for World Cups through 1986. At that the Mexican leader is believed to have said, “so, why not hold a tournament in Brazil so that it can show the world what it’s got in terms of top sports facilities?”⁷ The idea of holding an international soccer tournament in Brazil sprang up alongside Havelange’s candidacy for the presidency of FIFA. A soccer tournament would be seen not only as a global showcase of Brazil’s sports facilities, but also of the very country and Havelange’s administration at the head of Brazilian soccer. In 1972, the Brazil Independence Cup celebrating the sesquicentennial of the Brazilian Declaration of Independence would be the perfect stage for this purpose.⁸ The race for the FIFA presidency was on. One of the main talking points in Havelange’s FIFA campaign was the promise to reproduce what he had done in Brazil at a global scale. Doing so required building up a certain idea of Brazil. It was necessary to bring FIFA delegates to Brazil to win them over and instill an up-close admiration for the Brazilian model. In this respect, the challenge was to sell the Brazilian case as a model of economic and sporting development, packaged for exportation. Thus, the years spanning 1970 to 1974 was a time when an intense flow of world soccer delegates made its way through Brazil. lutations. Havelange,” Reactions des CNO suíte a la decision de la Session, février-avril, 1968, DRMOL AFRIS/015 7775.  Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro – a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).  “Torneio da Independência”, Boletim Extra da CBD, June, 1972, 2.  That was not the first time that Latin American Elites hosted a tournament to celebrate the Independence. One can also remember the 1930 World Cup, hosted by Uruguay or the Sulamericano, hosted by Brazil. Lorenzo Jalabert D’Amado, “Montevideo 1930: reassessing the selection of the first World Cup host,” Soccer & Society 21 (2020): 848, doi: 10.1080/14660970.2020.1793621. João Manuel Casquinha Malaia Santos, Maurício Drumond and Victor Andrade de Melo “Celebrando a nação nos gramados: o Campeonato Sul-Americano de Futebol de 1922,” História: Questões & Debates 57 (2012) 57.

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From 1968 to 1974, Brazil had an annual growth rate of 10 %, and the longterm economic outlook was sunny. In the jargon of the time, later incorporated by historiography, this period is known as the “Brazilian Miracle.” In economic terms, the growing expectation was that Brazil’s economic development would be a repeat of the economic success Japan had enjoyed a decade earlier, the so-called “Japanese miracle.” Brazil’s steady growth led the world to believe that it would soon reach the level of developed nations in terms of both GDP and per capita income. More than mere economic growth, the atmosphere of the Miracle should be understood as a sui generis historical moment. In the words of Janaina Cordeiro, it is necessary “to understand the Miracle more broadly as a way of being in the world at that moment and that, beyond the possibilities of economic ascent, it offered a certain view of the past and hope for the future”.⁹ This historical environment was characterized by the rhetoric that a tropical modernity was taking shape in Brazil. As will be shown, Havelange’s FIFA presidency campaign materials were saturated with the political grammar of the Miracle. Havelange’s success relied on the circulation ideas of these ideas. The bureaucracy of the Brazilian government played a central role in making it happen. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs (Itamaraty, as it is known in Brazil) assisted him directly on his trips abroad. Before being elected FIFA president, Havelange met with Foreign Minister Azeredo da Silveira, as noted on the agenda held in the archives at the Getúlio Vargas Foundation (FGV, in Portuguese).¹⁰ Itamaraty documents show that Havelange visited eighty countries with orchestration by journalists, soccer businesspeople and individuals connected to financial capital.¹¹ It is also known that two Chancery Officers, Iuri Kler in Moscow and Peter Pullen in London, were assigned by the ministry to devote themselves full-time to Havelange’s candidacy. But what is even more interesting is that Havelange was even capable of creating a parallel diplomatic channel. In 1971, the Boletim da CBD alludes to the “Ambassadors of National Sports.”¹² Divided by regions, Paulo Costa (France),

 Janaína Cordeiro, “Lembrar o passado, festejar o presente: as comemorações do Sesquicentena´rio da Independê ncia entre consenso e consentimento”, (PhD diss., Universidade Federal Fluminense, 2015), 303.  Ministry of Foreign Relations, Meeting with Havelange (Rio de Janeiro, June 24, 1974). CPDOC Archive, Rio de Janeiro. “Agenda com os compromissos diários de Azeredo da Silveira durante sua gestão na pasta das Relações Exteriores”, box: AAS mre ag 1974.03.13.  Brazilian Consulate at Sydney, Passagem por Sydney do Presidente João Havelange (February 17, 1972). One report, box Foot-boll, reference: 540.6341 (00), 1971-1980.  Boletim da CBD, July, 1971, 41.

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João Tello (Mexico), M. de Freitas (Australia), Aurélio Pereira Martins (Portugal) and Werner Pisch (Germany) provided direct assistance to Havelange, besides, of course, Peter Pullen (England) and Iuri Kler (Russia). Except for the last two, these individuals had no direct relationship with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. They were diplomats of the CBD.¹³ Although not contained in the written sources, a published interview with Havelange featured on the Ludopédio website quotes him mentioning a representative in China.¹⁴ In any case, the “CBD representatives” based in Europe met periodically in Paris to define the political directions of the candidacy.¹⁵ It was up to them to provide Havelange with political briefings so that he could go into meetings with counterparts and leaders with the benefit of having an overview of the region and prior information on what to offer and how to act in negotiations with these parties. Along the same lines, as soon as Havelange consolidated his candidacy for the FIFA presidency, he tried to place a name on FIFA’s three main committees. Carlos Alberto Parreira was called on to join the Technical Development Committee¹⁶; Abílio de Almeida, the Executive Committee¹⁷; and Peter Pullen, the Press Committee.¹⁸ From 1970 on, Pullen wrote articles in English for FIFA’s newsletter, FIFA News, as a way to acquaint the world with Brazilian soccer. In addition to this parallel diplomacy, the campaign engaged a number of members of the business associations who did not work directly for Havelange. Businesspeople, especially those connected to finance, the stock exchange and the insurance industry, tagged along on his campaign trips. They financed the Boletim da CBD by inserting small ads. Light, General Electric, Coca-Cola, The Brazilian Coffee Institute (IBC), Atlântica Seguros, Ney Carvalho Brokerage are examples of the main advertisers in the Boletim. Atlântica Seguros, where Havelange was CEO, published a poster of him upon his election to the FIFA presiden-

 Other scholars have also observed the formation of a “soccer diplomacy” in other contexts. See ROFE, J. Simon. Sport and diplomacy: A global diplomacy framework. Diplomacy & statecraft, v. 27, n. 2, p. 212– 230, 2016. More recently, DICHTER, Heather L. The diplomatic turn: The new relationship between sport and politics. The International Journal of the History of Sport, v. 38, n. 2– 3, p. 247– 263, 2021, and Soccer diplomacy: international relations and football since 1914: edited by Heather L. Dichter, Lexington, University Press of Kentucky, 2020.  João Havelange, interview by Katia Rubio and Sergio Settani Giglio (Rio de Janeiro, January 2012) in Ludopédio, accessed July 15, 2019, https://www.ludopedio.com.br/entrevistas/joao-ha velange/.  Peter Pullen, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2003 – 2004).  João Havelange, Letter from Havelange to Helmut Kaser (Rio de Janeiro, September 30, 1970). FIFA Archives, box: Brazil, 1968 – 1971.  FIFA News, 1970.  FIFA News, 1970.

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cy and circulated it in Brazilian magazines in celebration. For these individuals, Havelange’s victory would represent the triumph of the Brazilian business class abroad. There is even suggestion that businessmen from the financial sector poined up their own money to finance his campaign for the FIFA presidency.¹⁹ Since it is impossible to describe the totality of the networks woven by Havelange, this chapter analyzes the trajectory and rise of Elias Zaccour. Zaccour was Havelange’s main electoral agent, his right-hand man during the campaign. Fluent in Arabic and French, Zaccour was the unofficial “representative” of the CBD in the “African region.” He came up with the initiative to introduce (also in 1969) the president of the Algerian Football Federation, Mohamed Maouche, to Havelange. Maouche died in a plane crash in 1971, but the meeting was crucial for Havelange to start building support amongst the African bloc for his candidacy. Unlike Havelange’s other allies, namely members of business associations or government bureaucrats, Zaccour worked directly with soccer, making the sport his profession. Zaccour looked at his partnership with Havelange as a way to significantly expand his gains. But he was also the cultural mediator who made the link between FIFA’s political crisis and Havelange’s career. After Zaccour introduced Havelange, the next step was to invite the African delegates to visit Brazil and convincing them that the country held the solutions to their problems and concerns. In this vein, the second part of the chapter will address the version of Brazil that was presented to the delegates from Africa and beyond. A journey to the heart of the Brazilian Miracle.

The role of the soccer agents in Havelange’s election to FIFA As a rule, the history of soccer has traditionally been laid out in a linear evolution.²⁰ Journalists often describe a shift from pure soccer to that managed by the market and capitalist relations. Broadly speaking, the bibliography sets this transition in the 1970s and the early 1980s. According to this narrative, Havelange’s election as FIFA president played a major role in the process of converting spectator soccer into a commodity. After Havelange allied himself with Coca-Cola and Adidas, there was no turning back. The problem here is that neither company took sides in Havelange’s election. On the contrary, the evidence shows how  Ernesto Rodrigues, Conversa com JH, directed and produced by Ernesto Rodrigues (2014), movie, 93:00, accessed March 07, 2022, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7rYD9hGukI.  Marcelo Weishaupt Proni, A metamorfose do futebol, (Campinas: UNICAMP, 2000);); Marcos Alvito, “A parte que te cabe neste latifúndio: o futebol brasileiro e a globalização”, Análise Social, 179 (2006): 451.

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these alliances were forged post-election, and that Adidas had campaigned directly for Stanley Rous.²¹ According to the literature, Havelange’s measures to transform the soccer market into a profitable business led to the sociogenesis of soccer entrepreneurs. The problem is that in as early as the 1950s soccer had become a relatively globalized sport and several agents saw it as a way to climb the social ladder. The prominent role businesspeople played in the process of globalizing sports did not go unnoticed by their contemporaries. Barring two exceptions, the bibliography in the field is nevertheless silent on the role soccer agents played in the globalization of the sport. This silence tends to be attributed to the scarcity of historical sources or, in the case of ethnographic fieldwork, to the difficulty of gaining access to these agents. In fact, the two authors who took the time to research these agents restricted themselves to considering the relationship between soccer agents and the contemporary globalization of soccer (1980 onwards).²² Unlike their approach, the hypothesis put forward here is that the existence of a dynamic international soccer market and the central role played in it by Brazilian clubs were some of the necessary conditions for Havelange’s victory in 1974. In a sense Havelange’s election marks the end of almost two decades of intense activity and the global circulation of agents working on behalf of Brazil. On the one hand, Havelange was surfing the wave of the networks built by Brazilian clubs and the business community abroad. Brazil’s World Cup victory in 1958 was a turning point in the standing of Brazilian soccer internationally. On this occasion, one of the world’s most influential journalists, Gabriel Hanot, from France Football, called the 1958 World Cup victory the “soccer world’s Hiroshima bomb moment.”²³ The effect of this representation is apparent: just like the final blow in World War II, the victory of Brazilian soccer reestablished the order of world soccer. From then on, Brazilian soccer begins to be an object of desire to be consumed by the European public. Brazilian clubs and players start enjoying high market value, and European teams are willing to pay a high price for this product. Through the promotion efforts of soccer agents between 1958 and 1974, Brazilian teams and players made their way in and out of most of the countries affiliated with FIFA. Just to illustrate the breadth of the soccer market and the role of businessmen in it at the time, the Rio de Janeiro newspapers addressed it in

 Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro – a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007).  Stanislas Frankiel, Une histoire des agents sportifs en France. Les imprésarios du football (1979 – 2004) (CIES : Neuchâtel, 2014). Arlei Damo, Do dom à profissão: formação de futebolistas no Brasil e na França, (São Paulo: Aderaldo & Rotschild, 2007).  “Le bomb Hiroshima du Foot,” France Football Collection, August, 1958, FIFA Library, Zürich.

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terms of a “war among entrepreneurs” over control of the clubs.²⁴ Even before Brazil won the World Cup in 1958, it is possible to identify at least a dozen businessmen who had already been circulating in Brazil. However, the market for Brazilian clubs changed by a significant order of magnitude after the World Cup Triumph. One of the structuring characteristics of this market was that it was dependent on the personal relations forged by agents, delegates, and their respective clubs. As a result, the market seems to be prone to the formation of clientelist networks. In an interview with Reinaldo da Gama, son of Zé da Gama, one of the main businessmen of the period, said that there was a division between the clubs of so-and-so and the clubs of another so-and-so.²⁵ Obviously, such a division can only be taken so far. This dichotomy did not imply the existence of a rigid or closed boundary, and there were certainly disputes between individuals over clubs. Even so, the day-to-day operations suggested that clubs and routes were controlled by businessmen. By way of illustrating how this market worked, the presence of the Swede Gunnar Goransson on Flamengo’s board of directors led the team to visit Sweden more than once, and to establish relations with businessman Borg Lantz. Zaccour, also a businessman, established himself in the Africa-Middle East market while Da Gama was known for his good relations in Eastern Europe and the Iberian Peninsula.²⁶ One of the ways of developing connections was by mastery of foreign languages, which generally demarcated an entrepreneur’s area of action.²⁷ In addition to French, English and Spanish, entrepreneur José da Gama learned Russian and Japanese.²⁸ Without language proficiency, there would not have been any business. Those who mastered certain languages competed for similar slices of territory. In an unstable market that depended on long-distance movement and circulation, personal relationships carried significant weight. Zaccour, for example, even stated that he would rather lose money than lose the relationships he had built.²⁹ The extreme example of a club controlled by a soccer entrepreneur was Madureira Esporte Clube, leased by Zé da Gama in 1959. At the time Da Gama was the main player in the business of Brazilian soccer and he turned Madureira into

 “A guerra dos empresários”, Jornal do Brasil, April 21, 1956.  Reinaldo da Gama, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016).  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2005). Reinaldo da Gama, interview by author, Rio de Janeiro, December, 2016. “A guerra dos empresários”, Jornal do Brasil, April 21, 1956.  Reinaldo da Gama, interview by author.  Zé da Gama, interview by Mundo Esportivo in Press cuttings, Personal files of José da Gama.  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2005).

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“his club,” by becoming a president-agent. On one of Madureira’s trips, Zé da Gama even said that the goal of the trip was “to bring back only the jerseys” and that Madureira’s players all be sold on the tours.³⁰ Thus, there was an intersection of the market for touring clubs and the embryonic and fledgling market for exporting soccer players, a point where FIFA controlled and supervised the latter much more than the former. From the perspective of those agents, the world looked like a village, bound by a single border – the “FIFA border.” Soon after assuming the presidency of Madureira, Da Gama wrote to FIFA Secretary General Helmut Käser to communicate his entire plan.³¹ FIFA’s role as an international organization was to watch over and control this flow of clubs, players, and businessmen. FIFA functioned as a regulator of this international market. At the time, the market for traveling clubs was more malleable than the labor market for players. In the former case, FIFA’s only requirement for scheduling international matches was that both applicant clubs belong to FIFA. In the case of buying and selling players, this market was primarily regulated by the National Federation itself. Authorization of the sale of a player required that the National Federation agree to such a deal and issue a “certificate of transfer.”³² Additionally, the main European National Federations had strict laws that limited the number of foreigners per team. The National Federations not only recognized each other but were also obliged to recognize the legal regime of each Federation, without interfering in it.³³ There were also closed and inaccessible markets such as the Eastern European clubs that did not accept players who were not amateurs or citizens of their countries. In this sense, it is important to keep in mind that these local features were only maintained for so long because there was an international regulatory body that legitimized and supported these regulations. In the case of club tours, the situation was different. At the height of the Cold War, clubs easily toured through both Western Europe and the countries of the Iron Curtain. Just to keep to the example of Rio de Janeiro, Flamengo, Botafogo, Madureira, Olaria, America and Vasco, “crossed the border”. This idea reinforces the image of the Iron Curtain as a semipermeable membrane, coined by American historian Michael David-Fox. During the same time, Spartak Moscow and Dinamo Moscow toured Rio de Janeiro and cities in Brazil’s more remote areas in

 “Que só voltem as camisas”, Jornal do Brasil, January 24, 1960.  Letter from José da Gama to Helmut Käser, (January 12, 1959), Fifa Archives, Box, CBD, 1953 – 1968.  FIFA Statutes, FIFA (Zurich: 1968).  Raffaele Poli, “L’Europe a` travers le prisme du football. Nouvelles frontie`res circulatoires et rede´finition de la nation,” Cyberge´o 294 (2004): 1, doi: 10.4000/cybergeo.2802.

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the second half of the 1950s. The socialist clubs were different from European clubs in that they didn’t charge a cash fee, instead they bargained by swapping. In theory, the socialist clubs were amateur and could not receive any cash. From a business perspective, this was a good opportunity.³⁴ The clubs’ relative freedom of movement contrasted with the control over the labor force of the players.

Figure 5: Zé da Gama, football entrepreneur, counting money at Galeao – Rio de Janeiro International Airport. Ultima Hora, APESP, 1964.

 Michael David-Fox, “The Iron Curtain as Semi-Permeable Membrane: The Origins and Demise of the Stalinist Superiority Complex”, in Cold War Crossings: International Travel and Exchange Across the Soviet Bloc, 1940s-1960s, ed. Patryk Babiracki, and Kenyon Zimmer (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2014). For a more detailed volume on Sport and Cold War crossing, please see: VONNARD, Philippe; SBETTI, Nicola; QUIN, Grégory (Ed.). Beyond Boycotts: Sport during the Cold War in Europe. Walter de Gruyter GmbH & Co KG, 2017.

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This situation began to change in the 1960s, when FIFA began increasing its controls over this market. From the bibliographical perspective, a number of books and articles have been written on the migration of players, but practically no work has focused on the movement of clubs.³⁵ The common link between the market for club tours and that of players were the soccer businessmen. In this respect, the FIFA statute reforms, discussed in Chapter I of this book, changed and restricted the businessmen’s activity. The purpose of the statute reform was to make room for new members in the association, especially those from African associations, who would join en masse at the 1964 FIFA Congress in Tokyo the following year and the institutional frameworks. In the context of the FIFA statute reform, FIFA’s leaders decided to establish and regulate the movement of football agents. In this regard, they empowered businesspeople both to buy and sell players and to schedule matches between clubs.³⁶ This situation continued until 1968, when, at the behest of South American associations, FIFA deemed that the sale of players by agents was a breach of its rules. These federations were most likely affected by the growing exodus of its local soccer players. In 1968, the Federations of Argentina, Chile and Colombia motioned the FIFA Congress to bring an end to the article that allowed agents to work on behalf of soccer players.³⁷ The motion was sustained, and FIFA prohibited the participation of intermediaries in the sale of athletes. The agency for athletes would be prohibited until the statute reforms in the late 1990s, carried out under the Joseph Blatter administration. For FIFA officials, the concern surrounding businessmen was twofold. First, there was the fear that empowering businessmen could eventually backfire on FIFA, as they could challenge the established institutional order. These fears were undoubtedly on the minds of FIFA officials contemplating the political horizon, and they even appeared in documents on the growth of women’s soccer and indoor soccer, for example. In this sense, the concern was that entrepreneurs would amass so many financial resources that they would be able to challenge the prevailing order. Not surprisingly, FIFA set regulation that limited how much football agents could profit on their work. Secondly, as complaints mounted about the businessmen’s activities, FIFA officials realized the need to regulate this market. FIFA documentation (especially correspondence with national associations) is full of disputes between football agents, national associations and  For instance, Pierre Lanfranchi and Matthew Taylor, Moving with the ball: The migration of professional footballers (Oxford: Berg, 2001).  FIFA Statutes, FIFA (Zurich: 1964)  “FIFA, 37th Ordinary Congress, 1968, Guadalajara,” Minutes […]. Fédération Internationale de Football Association, 1968.

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clubs. The most common frauds concerned managers who lied about the merits of their clubs: second division clubs were presented as national or state champions. Teams that promised to field first-choice teams showed up with backup players, a situation that even happened at the national team level. In 1963, the Egyptian Federation filed a motion against the Brazilian team for taking a reserve team to play in Cairo. The Egyptians complained that they had paid a large sum of money to see the senior team, not the B team.³⁸ Unpaid debts were also quite common on tours. On a trip to New Zealand, for example, José da Gama left his hotel without paying the delegation’s costs. The case dragged on for almost two years until the Brazilian Sports Confederation decided to foot the bill left by the businessman.³⁹ It was in this context of increased regulations on soccer entrepreneurs and in the lead-up to Brazil’s military coup that the Bonsucesso team left Rio de Janeiro for a tour of the Middle East and Africa. The A Última Luta newspaper detailed the itinerary: two games in Liberia, five games in Libya, two games in Ghana, two games in Senegal, three games in Austria, two in Germany, two in France, two in Turkey and, finally, two games in Iraq. A journalist from A Última Luta joined the trip, most likely funded by soccer entrepreneur Elias Zaccour, who was in charge of the tour.⁴⁰ It was Elias Zaccour’s first trip. According to the journalist, the trip was a success and Zaccour emerged as an extremely well-organized businessman, quite unlike those, particularly Da Gama, who left a trail of debts and problems wherever they went. Two years later, Zaccour would be introduced to João Havelange at the World Cup in England.⁴¹ Zaccour came to Brazil from Lebanon in the 1950s. He set himself up in São Miguel, a small town in the state of Espírito Santo. Like most Lebanese who arrived in Brazil, Zaccour got into the business of commerce. By 1964, the year he began his career as a football agent, the market for touring clubs was already well established: agents, such as Da Gama himself, were entrenched and there were no signs that they would give up their positions anytime soon. The nature of this market makes it very difficult for neophytes to get a foothold. Zaccour’s success depended directly on his ability to build social networks and new routes. Zaccour entered this environment after regulations on the profession of football agent had already been set. In fact, his entry practically coincides with the reg-

 FIFA, Divers. Proces verbal de la séance, number 3 (1962). Comité Executiv, London, Park Lane, October 22, 2963, page eleven, FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Box CBD-FIFA, 1958 – 1964. FIFA Archives (Zürich: FIFA, 1962).  “Bonsucesso vai à África”, A Última Luta, February 21, 1964.  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).

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ulations for soccer agents, inserted in the statutes in 1963.⁴² What the regulation on football agent did was increase their dependence on the managers of the national federations and continental confederations. Zaccour understood that in order to succeed, he would necessarily have to cooperate with these bodies and not just the clubs. This shift in focus led Zaccour to international competitions, where he would become acquainted with many of the African officials. It was at this point that his path crossed that of João Havelange. Faced with a relatively saturated and increasingly watched market, Zaccour’s solution was to seek new routes and paths that had not yet been properly explored by Brazilian clubs. In 1963, he embarked for West Africa, North of Africa, Europe, and the Middle East. In his own words, it was a trip to “probe the possibility of doing business with soccer, I had been wary of soccer.”⁴³ After the successful trip with Bonsucesso, Abílio de Almeida, the second in the chain of command at the CBD and future member of FIFA’s Executive Committee (from 1968 on), sought him out. He asked Zaccour to go on a tour in 1965 with to “his” team from São Cristóvão to North Africa and the Middle East. Zaccour had begun to build relations with the amateur officials, who dominated the CBD at the time. From then on, Zaccour continued rising. In 1966 he took the Vasco da Gama team to Africa. In 1967, he took the team of Santos, with Pelé, Coutinho, amongst others players to Africa.⁴⁴ In 1968, the Departamento Autônomo, a working-class team run by the Rio de Janeiro Football Federation, headed to Africa. In 1968, the same year, it was Flamengo’s turn. In 1969, Zaccour would again take Santos on a tour to West Africa, Lourenço Marques (Mozambique), and Europe. In 1973, it was ABC de Natal and Fluminense Football Club’s turns.⁴⁵ The African continent became the ace of Zaccour’s activities. Undoubtedly, the main market for Brazilian soccer was still Europe, but with the decolonization processes underway in Africa and Asia, new markets emerged. The national elites created by the colonization processes possessed most of the available resources in the post-Independence world, and they had enough for financing visits from Brazilian teams. In this sense, the newly independent local elites often established a relationship of state patronage with clubs and local teams. In this sense the two paradigmatic cases are Ghana, where Kwame Nkrumah sponsored the national team and the local team of Real Accra, and Congo, where Mobuto

 FIFA Statutes, article ten, FIFA (Zurich: 1963).  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).  At the time, Santos was considered the best squad in the World, once they had winning twice the Intercontinental Cup against Milan (1963) and Benfica (1962).  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).

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Sese Seko sponsored both the national team and the Leopardos club.⁴⁶ Not only would Brazilian teams play in Accra and Kinshasa, but also both teams would also come to tour Brazil for friendly matches. The Ghana team came to Brazil in 1968, and so did Leopardos the same year. Uganda, Kenya and other teams also signed technical cooperation agreements with the CBD.

Figure 6: National Olympic Committee, Kuwait (KUW), 1989 – João HAVELANGE (on the left), FIFA president and IOC member (BRA), and the Sheikh Ahmad Al-Fahad AL-SABAH, NOC Pdt and IOC member (KUW), during the friendship and peace Games championship. Elias Zaccour, Football businessmen, is also in the picture. Kuwait Olympic Committee. IOC Archives, 1989.

It is symptomatic that there were no cases or reports of complaints about Zaccour’s performance as a soccer entrepreneur in FIFA documentation. The only result that came up in a search on the FIFA system was that Zaccour visited the headquarter in late 1979.⁴⁷ In the second half of the 1970s, his name also appears

 Peter Alegi, African soccerscapes: How a continent changed the world’s game (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2010).  “List of visitors FIFA Building”, FIFA News, August, 1979.

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as one of the businessmen registered with UEFA.⁴⁸ From 1968 on, the term or “agent” or “businessman” had a pejorative connotation. Not infrequently, the businessmen were seen as people who wanted to take advantage, a middleman as they’d be common referred to by the Brazilian press. Zaccour presented himself as a “matchmaker,” and distanced himself from the stereotype of the soccer entrepreneur. Another factor to consider was that the FIFA Statute Reform Committee was discussing the strict banning of “player agents.” Zaccour’s intention was to present himself as nothing other than a connector, someone capable of making a tie between two distinct parts of the world. Interestingly enough, 1968 presents itself yet again as a key year. A tournament held in Ethiopia – the only country in Africa not to be colonized – acquired a particular significance in the context of protesting colonialism and FIFA’s interference in the continent. Moreover, 1968 marks the rise of Tessema, an Ethiopian, to the vice presidency of the African Confederation. The new African countries’ objections to FIFA’s status quo thus became an ever more present reality. Zaccour attended the debates led by African countries and presented the problem to Havelange in an attempt to build a candidacy for the FIFA presidency.⁴⁹ Thanks to Zaccour’s interactions and contact with soccer officials from the African continent he was abreast of the widespread dissatisfaction with FIFA’s status quo. The problem is rooted in the boycott of these countries in the 1966 World Cup, the South Africa problem, the issue of resources available at FIFA, and this only intensified in the 1970s. Zaccour presented the nature of the problem to João Havelange, and together they began to build Havelange’s candidacy for the presidency of FIFA. Around 1969, Zaccour introduced Havelange to Maouche, the president of soccer of the Algerian Federation. For a soccer businessman like Zaccour, the earning potential of having a relationship with the FIFA president himself was incalculable. In a market where personal relationships were key, Zaccour knew that a Havelange victory could leverage his business.⁵⁰ Zaccour was João Havelange’s main canvasser in Africa and the Middle East. Together, Zaccour and Havelange traveled to Australia and several countries in Central Asia and the Middle East. Fluent in Arabic, Zaccour helped to forge agreements in North Africa and the Middle East, as well as in markets he knew relatively well, such as Romania and Greece. Together with Peter Pullen, Gilberto Velloso, a diplomat, Ricardo Serran and Hélio Rodrigues, journalists, Captain Fernando, a military man, João Lyra Filho, a politician and sociologist,

 “List of agents”, FIFA News, August, 1976.  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).

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Antônio Carlos de Almeida Braga, a banker, and José Ermírio de Moraes, an industrialist and president of the São Paulo Soccer Federation, Zaccour was part of Havelange’s entourage at the 1974 Congress in Frankfurt. Unlike the others just listed, it is noteworthy that Zaccour does not appear in the CBD’s official publications and in Havelange’s tribute books.⁵¹ Zaccour’s work was behind-thescenes. At João Havelange’s behest, Zaccour went on an almost 100-day foreign tour. For a little over three months, Zaccour traveled with the ABC de Natal team on a relatively atypical tour. ABC de Natal was out of the National Championship for listing an irregular player and thus had nothing to do in the second half of the year. Since Havelange was a former classmate of the president of ABC de Natal, he suggested the international tour as a way to honor commitments and keep the payroll active during the downtime. Havelange and Zaccour met on the tour’s stop in Greece, as illustrated by the photos in the Havelange archive at Brazilian Olympic Committee.⁵² Unlike Zaccour’s traditional itineraries, ABC de Natal did not go to West Africa, but rather to East Africa (Somalia, Uganda, and Tanzania). The team also traveled to Romania, Yugoslavia, and Turkey. It is worth mentioning that Havelange met up with ABC de Natal in Bucharest, during one of his campaign stops for the FIFA presidency. The atypical route was not random. The trip was an essential part of Havelange’s campaign for the FIFA presidency. In East Africa, the team’s trip seemed to be a courtesy paid to the local elites, since their leaders certainly supported Havelange in his FIFA candidacy. Zaccour’s decisive participation occurred in the lead-up to Havelange’s election. At this point, we can reproduce an excerpt from the interview Zaccour granted to Ernesto Rodrigues: I will tell you something. You know that the Africans, their federations are poor. Even more so back then. They had no money. So, in order to vote, one had to pay a membership fee. I was the secretary. He gave me a list. There were 14 Africans who had not paid. These 14 were with us. […] Then I went to the secretariat and asked: how much for each one? And I paid. […]⁵³

 João Havelange determinação e coragem, comp. Vivaldo Coaracy (Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1978)  José Mário Pereira and Silvia Marta Vieira, João Havelange, o dirigente esportivo do século XX, (Rio de Janeiro: Casa da Palavra, 2010). Alexandre Filho and Klênyo Galvão, “Excursão internacional de 1973: ABC vive epopeia ao redor do mundo”, globoesporte.com, June 22, 2015, accessed June 20, 2019, http://globoesporte.globo.com/rn/abc-100-anos/noticia/2015/06/excursaointernacional-de-1973-abc-vive-epopeia-ao-redor-do-mundo.html.  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).

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One of the most common complaints the smaller associations had was the annual fees they had to pay to FIFA. There were two types of fees: fix (150 USD) and variable (depending on match revenue). The amount probably was not very high, since most of the National Associations were able to keep up with their FIFA membership fees without any major problems. But for a small number of associations, the amount seemed to be significant. Paying the fee was a condition for exercising a National Federation’s political rights (voting rights, participation in the meetings etc). Any federation in arrears would see their right to participation in congresses revoked. There was also a symbolic issue that bothered the smaller federations: the privileged fee exemption granted to the four UK federations under an agreement signed by FIFA in 1928.⁵⁴ In this respect, while the Asian and African federations struggled to keep up with their obligations, the UK federations did not have to pay dues. FIFA officials nevertheless have always been lenient when it comes to applying sanctions for unpaid fees. That said, the statutes did have provisions for enforcing them. Controls on the payment of annual fees got tighter as African and Asian countries joined the international body, as can be seen in FIFA’s documentation.⁵⁵ As more national federations joined FIFA, the overall fees collected went up, however, FIFA’s other streams were also growing, and at a much faster clip at that. As a result, the revenue from fees represented an ever smaller proportion of the organization’s income. In February 1974, FIFA News published a piece listing the associations in default along with a threat to retaliate against them. The bulletin included a total of 28 associations that had to either pay their annual fee or forfeit their participation in the Frankfurt Congress in June of that year.⁵⁶ It was a roster of not only African, but also Asian, Caribbean, and even South American federations. One of the central problems Havelange faced in the election had to do with the country participation number: if the number was high, Havelange would win, if it were low, Havelange would lose. Mobilizing national federations to vote and securing their political rights was therefore crucial. Armed with this information, Zaccour claims that he went to Zurich and settled the accounts of 14 allied National Federations. Zaccour’s story is plausible, even though some of his figures

 Pierre Lanfranchi, Christiane Eisenberg, Tony Mason and Alfred Wahl, 100 years of Football. The FIFA Centennial Book (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2004).  For instance FIFA correspondence with AFC, Levies dues of receipt of matches, Fédération Internationale de Football Association (Cairo: May 21, 1969), box AFC, 1968-1973. Letter from FIFA to AFC, Suspension of Mauritania, Tchad, Cameroon, Gambia, Libya, Somalia, Sierra Leone (Cairo: April 19, 1969). One letter, box AFC, 1968-1973, FIFA Archives: Zurich.  FIFA News, February edition, 1974.

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Graph 3: FIFA Development – Growth of annual fix fees (in CHF). Source: Report on Economic Activity. FIFA Ordinary Congress.

do not match the official data. Zaccour settles the bills for the problem month (February), but there is no FIFA documentation that actually backs up his story having been in the building to make the payments. Elias Zaccour’s involvement shows how Havelange’s election drew on preexisting networks built during the 1960s and the first half of the 1970s. These were long-standing networks, as the images of Zaccour from the International Olympic Committee archives show. In 1998, Zaccour became one of Blatter’s main electoral agents, as he himself said.⁵⁷ In Havelange’s papers, Zaccour appears as a regular figure on the FIFA president’s world trips. They visited Oman, Kuwait and Iraq together.⁵⁸ What Zaccour’s career illustrates is that Havelange’s election was not the result of inertia, but rather by favorable international political conditions related to FIFA itself and to the strength of Brazilian soccer. Early on his election implied the participation of non-state actors, partners and agents who were acting in the background of FIFA’s political crisis in the 1960s. Focusing on how other agents participated in Havelange’s election to the FIFA presidency reveals how it was the product of organized and cohesive groups, and not exclusively an individual project. Without these networks, Have-

 Joseph Blatter, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2004– 2005).  “João Havelange, Meeting at Oman,” João Havelange papers. BOC Archives, 1983.

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lange would not have been elected President of FIFA in 1974. In addition to these private networks, the support of the Brazilian state was equally fundamental, a topic addressed below.

Development, Brazilian style Havelange’s campaign for the presidency of FIFA included a pitch for a sportseconomic development model, based on the Brazilian case. In practice, it is argued that Havelange wanted to show foreign delegates Brazilian-style development rather than showcasing Brazil’s development, per se. The distinction between Brazilian-style development and that of Brazil is that he wanted to show a development model that could be replicated in other countries. Brazilian civilization would be able to provide international delegates with the key to solving their own problems and the issues they were experiencing with FIFA in their own countries. In examining the symbols, its history, and the character of the Brazilian people, the delegates would discover the path to development. What did Brazilian-style development consist of? How had Brazil blazed the path to its own success? The main debate was over who main characters of national development were. In the building of a history by the elites themselves, a narrative was insisted upon in which the ruling groups placed themselves as protagonists of their social processes. In this context, talking about and celebrating Brazilian development meant to highlight the action of a technical-scientific elite leading the making of a modern nation.⁵⁹ Havelange was part of this group and, for this reason, presented himself as an intellectual on the cusp of nation building. This characterization is emphasized in the campaign brochure for the FIFA presidency distributed at the Frankfurt Congress: Why João Havelange? If someone even had to ask this question, the answer, besides the obvious, would contain other questions such as: Who led Brazil to win the Jules Rimet Cup? Who was the driving force of further integration in Brazil through soccer, encouraging the construction of stadiums from Rio Grande to Amazonas? Who created the Independence Cup, bringing representatives to Brazil from all over the world, including Central America, Africa and Asia, who are almost always overlooked in the great tournaments? Who put the prestige of Brazilian soccer at the service of the greatest causes of humanity

 Carlos A Giannasi, “A Doutrina de Segurança Nacional e o ‘Milagre Econômico’ (1969 – 1973)”, (PhD diss., Universidade de São Paulo, 2011), 43.

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without seeking profits or advantages like the Brazil team’s recent visit to Dublin, to benefit children with cancer?⁶⁰

Ever since the victory in Mexico, there is accentuated political identification between Havelange and the CBD and figures from the military political bureaucracy. For France Football, Brazilian soccer – miracle soccer, in the journalist’s terms – was the living and visible expression of the country’s political and economic growth.⁶¹ Brazilian style development was seen as the product of the efforts of a political elite who, ever since “the 1964 revolution” had ensured order and the peaceful environment necessary for the country’s growth. The actions of the CBD and of Havelange himself begin to get muddled up in the a broad set of “national efforts” made by a “country whose sole thought was working and producing.”⁶² In the pages of the CBD Bulletim, Havelange appears as a defender of “Brazil’s image abroad” given the allegations of human rights violations.⁶³ The Brazil that was presented to FIFA delegates in 1972 brandished the socio-cultural signs of the economic miracle. The role of a technical and technocratic elite was central in presenting Brazil to African delegates. In the period immediately following the war, the concept of economic development acquired prominence, and not just in the Brazilian case. In the 1960s, the problem of development and how to achieve it became the political grammar shared among newly decolonized countries. In the words of Jurgen Osterhammel: [Since the postwar period] economic development has been an overriding concern, not only for the new states. The ambiguous and protean concept of “development” be- came a powerful intellectual template that helped organize the postcolonial world into several groups or “worlds” […] the two superpowers […] and international agencies turned toward international development as a new field of activity. […] The ideal of the interventionist state […] was fortified from India to West Africa, by socialist models of varying strictness and design. Well into the 1970s, development under state guidance and technocratic-scientific planning remained a program on which nationalists of almost all shades could agree. While there was a great variety of strategies among the new states, quite a few among them saw state-run industrialization policy as the high road to development.⁶⁴

 Sylvio Pacheco, Por que João Havelange? Brochura de João Havelange à presidência da FIFA, 1974, Brochure, BOC Library.  “Le football du miracle sous la terrible menace européenne”, France Football, July, 1972.  “O Torneio Uniu os Povos”, Boletim da CBD, October, 1973, 5.  “Havelange, medalha do mérito”, Boletim da CBD, April, 1970, 4.  Jurgen Osterhammel, Decolonization: a short history (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2017), 133 – 135.

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Unsurprisingly, the dispute between socialism and capitalism turned to which model would serve economic development faster. In the 1970s, when an increasing number of countries turned to state-guided development and scientific planning, attention focused on Brazil, the very success story of this economic mix. It seems obvious to point out that the Brazilian model of development differed from that of the Soviets in its rejection of socialism. But unlike the US model, which emphasized civil liberties and the role of civil society in the expansion of capitalism, Brazil’s economic development observed the importance of the state as a key factor in development. The belief in the state as the catalyst in the economy and the use of planning language and technique as the path to prosperity certainly fit in with the illusions of the delegates from the newly decolonized countries.⁶⁵ The Brazilian case was, by definition, the symbol of a rising capitalist, planned, technocratic economy. At the height of the economic miracle, it was as if knowledge of Brazil and its people was tantamount to discovering the route to modernity. The language of development permeated the actions of sports institutions, particularly FIFA, with the creation of the Technical Development Committee in 1963. Havelange’s program for the FIFA presidency was steeped in the language of development and reproduced it. Of the eight campaign promises, four of them foresaw direct assistance to the less developed and developing federations, in the form of either training, supplying sport material or even technical assistance for the building of stadiums.⁶⁶ Even before being elected, Havelange, through the CBD, offered technical cooperation through his two representatives: Carlos Alberto Parreira⁶⁷, who later would became the trainer of the 1994 Brazil World Champion team, and Claudio Coutinho. Coutinho, the 1970 national team supervisor who would become the coach of Brazil’s 1978 World Cup team, visited the African continent in 1972, and, after taking stock of the sport across the continent, stated

 Margarida Fajardo, The World That Latin America Created: The United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America in the Development Era (Boston: Harvard University Press, 2021).  “To Help the less and developing National Federations with sports equipment 5) The same, in relation to the construction of new stadiums; 6) Intensify courses in refereeing, doctors, technicians and physical trainers; 7) hire doctors, coaches, to teach studies in the least advanced and developing countries to better and further enhance their knowledge of football in the language of English, German, French and Spanish” In Sylvio Pacheco, Por que João Havelange? Brochura de João Havelange à presidência da FIFA, 1974, Brochure, BOC Library.  João Havelange, Correspondence addressed to Helmut Käser (Rio de Janeiro: September 30, 1970). Brazil Box, 1968-1974, FIFA Archives.

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In African people, I discovered an almost natural technique, an extraordinary spirit, and unique skill. What is missing is a certain understanding of the game, experience and maturity. Acquiring this kind of knowledge requires work. […] In Brazil, we start with physical fitness. A player needs stamina. You shouldn’t forget sports medicine, which has become fundamental and indispensable in modern soccer. But all this is useless if you do not have adequate facilities, if you do not have dynamic leaders and a staff of technical advisors with capacity and training. Brazil is willing to provide any and all technical assistance to any African country that requests it. Personally, I am ready to go anywhere, to give conferences, to discuss soccer with African officials. Mr. Havelange has already expressed, this agreement on other occasions.⁶⁸

Claudio Coutinho’s speech reproduced the official propaganda of the military regime, and its deep-seated belief “in its specialists’ capacity in technical planning and bureaucracy.”⁶⁹ In Claudio Coutinho’s view, the key to soccer development required the training of leaders, the construction of adequate sports facilities and building the capacity of specialized technical staff. This discourse, where the technical commission and its managers (and not the players and their natural talent, etc.) are front and center in the Brazilian team’s success, was being revived, this time as an instrument of technical cooperation. What the Brazilian case showed was that the solution in this case was based on direct cooperation with the State. By 1970, many Third World countries were far from constituting themselves as traditional liberal democracies, with a multifaceted and diverse civil society. In the case of sports development, it is safe to say that the national sports federations and their leaders depended on the state. It was common to see leaders – like Gamal Abdel Nasser or Mobuto Sese Seko – directly transferring funds to build stadiums, or to finance development programs. The minutes of the Confederation of African Football show that the meetings were almost always kicked off by political leaders making a generous and significant donation. As a rule, the State was the only one capable of making large investments (building stadiums, financing athletes abroad, holding international events, etc.), a practice not always welcomed by the European delegates, who preached the separation of government and sport, frequently overestimating the autonomy of their national sports federations. It is worth quoting the Egyptian member of the International Olympic Committee, Ahmed Touny, in his response to European criticism of the relationship between politics and sports in organizing the GANEFO games:

 Tshimpumpu wa Tshimpumpu, “After Munich – where is African Football today?”, FIFA News, October, 1972, 3  Carlos Fico, Reinventando o otimismo: Ditadura, Propaganda e Imaginário Social no Brasil (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 1997), 41.

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Mr. Brundage, president of the IOC, contacted me last year on a very similar issue. I contacted officials and realized that there was no basis for these rumors. […] But after the session in Innsbruck, and the very heavy-handed coverage by the press of the countries that decided to participate in GANEFO, I decided to write. You know that emerging countries finance their sports activities through contributions by their governments. […] A decision like this will be useless, and any attempt to block and isolate these countries will fail. I assure you that a significant number of the 150 National Olympic Committees share this opinion.⁷⁰

In 1963, after a visit to Asia, Stanley Rous wrote a report in which he criticized the political influence on the sports federations. Faced with the new reality in African and Asian countries, FIFA had to take a stand, and only two alternatives remained: adapt the rules to be more flexible on state interference or become increasingly rigid by heightening the sanctions imposed on national federations.⁷¹ FIFA’s creation of development programs should also be seen a way for it to combat the power and influence that governments wielded over national federations. FIFA aimed to make the national federations more autonomous by directly funding them, thereby providing them with an economic lifeline for survival. From the perspective of the CBD’s, states’ influence was not a political problem. Brazilian soccer had developed in the shadow of state contributions, a reality that was apparent to the delegates from the Third World delegates on visits to Brazil. Brazilian-style development was presented as being underpinned by the trifecta of a technocratic political elite, a state as the vector of development of large-scale works, and a people devoid of racial prejudice.

The age of the stadiums – promoting the Brazilian miracle A few months before the 1970 World Cup, Stanley Rous landed in Brazil as president of FIFA. In Rio de Janeiro, Rous spoke about the rules of the game, accompanied by Ken Aston, head of FIFA’s Referee’s Committee. He then embarked on a three-day tour of Brazil. In his written report on the trip, Stanley Rous noting the following route: The president of the CBD, Mr. João Havelange, invited me to visit Brazil and I asked Ken Aston to join me. The reason for the trip was to visit the new stadiums in Belo Horizonte and Manaus, in the Amazon Basin, as well as a course on refereeing in Rio de Janeiro.

 Ahmed Touny, Litteral Translation on letter from Touny to Otto Mayer (March 21, 1964). One letter, Ahmed Touny Files, IOC Archives, Lausanne.  Stanley Rous, Report on the visit from Rous to Thailand (August. 1967). One report, FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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In the planning I had included visits to Recife and Porto Allegro (sic), but these were cut because we were short on time on the trip. […] Mr. Cañedo, president of the World Cup Organizing Committee and of the Mexican Football Federation, and Mr. Salinas, president of the South American Football Confederation, were also on this trip, which gave us the opportunity to discuss World Cup issues. The visit to the new stadium in Belo Horizonte got special attention from officials, print press, radio and television. A plaque was placed on the stadium wall to memorialize my trip. […] When the Manaus stadium is completed, 3,000 miles from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil will have six modern stadiums. Even unfinished, 40 thousand people watched the Brazil team train in Manaus. […] In Belo Horizonte as well as in Manaus we were guided by the governor and the president of the state soccer association. It comes as no surprise that the CBD is eager for matches between national teams to be staged in these splendid stadiums. FIFA’s role is to support these efforts.⁷²

In Brazil, the presence of Salinas, president of the South American Football Confederation, and Cañedo, president of the Mexican Football Federation, even before the 1970 World Cup, indicated that Havelange’s campaign was in full swing. Between 1971 and 1974, Brazil became a must on the tours of international sports delegations and politicians. Little by little the country became the very epicenter of international sports politics. These guests, for the most part, had their expenses paid by the CBD, they would stay at luxury hotels and travel on a the Líder airline’s private jet, made available to them fulltime. In 1971, at the invitation of the CBD, Helmut Käser, FIFA’s Secretary General, led a FIFA delegation. Y. Tessema (Ethiopia) and General Mustafa (Egypt), the two African delegates on the trip, along with Stanley Rous, himself, represented the Executive Committee.⁷³ The purpose of the trip was to ensure that the Brazilian stadiums to be used for the Independence Tournament in 1972 were up to FIFA standards. After visiting the stadiums, Havelange suggested using the opportunity to take the group on a tour of Brasilia, as well as the Furnas and Três Marias power plants.⁷⁴ The visit to the hydroelectric plants was beyond the scope of the trip. When Käser returned to Zurich he wrote to Havelange with an account of his impressions of Brazil:

 Stanley Rous, Report to the Executive Committee on the trip to Brazil (1970). One report, CBDFIFA, Brazil Box, 1968-1971, FIFA Archives, Zürich.  The entourage of the trip also counted with two journalists: Abílio Dias (Sport Press) and Wilson Lima (Manchete). For the purposes of this book, I contacted (by email) Rose Marie to interview her in London. Breitenstein claimed to be a distant episode in time and denied the interview. She is the single living participant in this journey.  João Havelange, Correspondence addressed to Helmut Käser (Rio de Janeiro, August 6, 1970). Box CBD 1968-1971, FIFA Archives, Zurich.

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Mr. President and dear friend, We have just spent an extremely interesting and instructive week in Brazil. On behalf of FIFA, the members who took part in the inspection tour, and on my own behalf, I would like to thank you for the invitation extended to FIFA. The 14,000 km that we traveled aboard the ultra-fast planes that you made available to us allowed for sound and interesting experiences. The whole program proceeded without the slightest incident, and, thanks to you and your collaborators, everything went smoothly. We visited the stadiums in Porto Alegre, Campo Grande, Manaus, Recife, Natal, Maceió, Aracaju, Salvador, Belo Horizonte, and São Paulo. We found that the completed stadiums are excellent. The turf in the stadiums is in excellent condition. The stadiums under construction are also of the same quality, all in accordance with the fundamental standards set by the CBD. I share the view that, at the present time, Brazil has the largest set of stadiums in the world, which are also the most modern set of stadiums in the world. The matches of the Independence Cup next year will therefore be played in ultra-modern stadiums. You took us to Brasilia, Brazil’s capital, and to Furnas, to see the largest hydroelectric plant. Flying over your huge country and touring its great cities we came to understand Brazil’s development and the immense possibilities that your country offers. We also appreciate the generous hospitality and kindness with which you welcomed us on this unique occasion.⁷⁵

Designed by Havelange, the travel route was a narrative about Brazil. He omitted Brazil’s so-called natural beauties from his profile of the country to make room for a world transformed by human action. The message was clear: Brazil is no longer a country with a vast territory and abundant natural resources, but rather a land untapped and virgin in terms of human work. Journalists from France Football underscored this image: “Brazil is no longer known for its golden beaches, alone.”⁷⁶ In the full sense of the term, Brazil was a national and modern civilization, with values, institutions, civilized elites and a strong economy. Now, Brazilian civilization presented itself to the world by examining its symbols. Furnas, Brasília and the Brazilian stadiums represented this country under construction. Understanding the ideology surrounding the campaign requires, for now, a detailed examination of the symbols presented to the international delegates. The city of Brasilia played a central role in the construction of the image of Brazilian civilization. Two years after Käser’s visit, the IOC president Lord Killianin visited Brazil in 1973. Once again, Havelange made a point of inviting him to

 Helmut Käser, Correspondence addressed to João Havelange (Zürich, August 13, 1971). CBD Box, 1968 – 1971. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  “Jean Havelange – Je compte sur 3 million des spectateurs”, France Football, January 23, 1972.

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Brasilia: “On the 24th, I give you the option to visit Brazil’s capital, where we will be received by the minister of education and, in the evening, we will witness six gymnastic styles that were performed at the Munich Olympic Games. In the evening, a six-seater airplane will be at your disposal to return to Rio.” ⁷⁷ On the one hand, Brasília’s centrality in the delegates’ trips was due to the political connections built by Havelange. Many of those who visited the capital took the opportunity to meet with the main leaders of the military government.⁷⁸ However, Brasília was the symbol, perhaps the main symbol, of this emerging Brazilian civilization to which Havelange felt a sense of belonging and stardom. Reporting on Käser’s trip in 1971, the CBD Bulletin carried a photo of Brasilia’s cathedral, drawing attention to the aesthetic element: “Brasilia captivated FIFA’s members through the beauty of its lines.”⁷⁹ Moving Brazil’s capital from Rio to Brasilia also represented a transformation in aesthetics. Whereas the artistic-literary representations of Rio de Janeiro were about Brazil’s natural beauty, Brasilia emphasized that which is made “by the distinctly national human being, such as the urban floorplan in the shape of an airplane for the new capital, the Itamaraty Palace, the National Theater and the Supreme Court. […] Brasília boasted that it was unlike anything the world had ever seen.”⁸⁰ Brasilia was the Brazilian’s contribution to the world. What is not left unnoticed in this theory is Havelange’s belonging to a generation that rose in the public sphere in the 1950s. He and the politicians and intellectuals of his age saw the construction of Brasilia as the epitome of a nationalist project. In the book Por Que Construí Brasília? (Why Did I Build Brasilia?), written and first published in 1972, Juscelino Kubischek compares the construction of the new capital to a revolution “not of blood, but of administrative methods.”⁸¹ Havelange’s image of himself as an “administrator” certainly meshed with the Juscelinist representation of a new Brazil built on a revolution of administrative methods. Havelange’s intellectual contemporaries, who organized around the Higher Institute of Brazilian Studies (ISEB, per the Portuguese ab-

 João Havelange, Correspondence addressed to Lord Killanin (Rio de Janeiro, 14 maio 1973). One letter, IOC Archives, Lausanne.  The case of the Minister of Culture – Jarbas Passarinho – cited as a character in the trip of Lord Killianin.  “O Brasil possui o melhor conjunto de estádios do mundo”, Boletim da CBD, August, 1971, 14.  Sophie Beal, Brasil em construção – as obras públicas na literatura do século XX (Porto Alegre: Zouk, 2017), 117. (grifos nossos)  Juscelino Kubitschek. Por que construí Brasília? Coleção Brasil Colonial (Brasília: Senado Federal, Conselho Editorial, 1972), 12.

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breviation) saw Brasília as the first step on the road to Brazil’s development.⁸² Their assessment was that until then Brazil had never been an independent and sovereign nation. Brasilia was the antithesis of the splintered, dispersed and underdeveloped country, and represented ground zero for the construction of an autonomous, prosperous and sovereign nation. Roland Corbisier, one of the exponents of this group, boils it down in his book, Brasília e o Desenvolvimento Nacional (Brasilia and National Development): All the great cultures and civilizations known to us have, so to speak, found their culmination in the construction of the Metropolis, the great capital. […] In the morning hour where we witness the birth of the Nation, in this inaugural moment where we desire the physiognomy of the new country to be free and sovereign, let us celebrate the privilege of being contemporaries of the epic of Brasília, flower of the desert, Capital of the future and of hope.⁸³

Even in the post-1964 political regime, Brasília maintained its status as a founding symbol.⁸⁴ According to political scientist Christian Lynch, “it was no coincidence that the first president to govern from Brasilia was Emílio Garrastazu Médici.”⁸⁵ Far from becoming a disavowal of the regime, the city was the setting for the main public demonstrations of popular support for the dictatorship, such as the hosting of the 1970 World Cup and the celebrations for the sesquicentennial of Brazil’s Independence. Brasília was, in this sense, celebrated by those who believed in making Brazil a new country based on the economic miracle.⁸⁶ Like Brasília, the Furnas plant, the second symbol Havelange introduced to foreign delegates, also dated back the 1950s. By 1971, when the FIFA delegation visited Brazil, the dictatorship’s main engineering projects – the Rio-Niterói

 Márcio de Oliveira, “O ISEB e a construção de Brasília: correspondências míticas”, Sociedade e Estado 21, (May/August 2006): 487, accessed July 20, 2018, http://www.scielo.br/pdf/se/v21n2/ a08v21n2.pdf.  Roland Corbisier, Brasília e o desenvolvimento nacional (Rio de Janeiro: MEC/ISEB, 1960), 173 – 179  Carlos Fico, Reinventando o otimismo: ditadura, propaganda e imaginário social no Brasil (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 1997).  Rodrigo de Almeida, “Uma 2ª capital atenuaria crise de representação que Brasília cristaliza”, Poder 360, October 12, 2017, accessed July 20, 2019, https://www.poder360.com.br/opiniao/ brasil/uma-2a-capital-atenuaria-crise-de-representacao-que-brasilia-cristaliza/.  Christian Edward Cyril Lynch, “‘A multidão é louca, a multidão é mulher’: a demofobia oligárquico-federativa da Primeira República e o tema da mudança da capital”, História, Ciência, Saúde-Manguinhos 20, (2013): 1491, accessed March 9, 2022, doi:10.1590/S0104-59702013000 500004.

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Bridge, Itaipu and Angra dos Reis Nuclear Power Plant⁸⁷ – had not been completed. Nevertheless, the discourse that these pharaonic works would represent gross-state development was gaining traction in civil society. From the military regime’s vantage point, the country’s sense of greatness was expressed by the size of its projects. In this sense, the Rio-Niteroi Bridge was described as “the largest beam bridge in the world.”⁸⁸ This optimistic view was not exclusive to governmental and propaganda agencies, as it was also embraced and publicized by the main sectors of the economic elite. The Comércio e Mercados magazine, a mouthpiece of the National Trade Confederation, which had awarded Havelange as the “entrepreneur of the year” in 1970, would often celebrate the urban works in its own variant of nationalist discourse.⁸⁹ For this reason, it is significant that Havelange himself kept a postcard of the Itaipu hydroelectric power plant among his personal correspondence.⁹⁰ At any rate, Havelange’s original and direct contribution to the Brazil Great Power project were the new soccer stadiums that opened during his tenure at the helm of the CBD. Stanley Rous used the metaphor of cathedrals to praise them on his visit, “Brazil has the best set of stadiums in the world. In my country, when people wanted to build something, they would always mobilize and build a cathedral. People don’t go to cathedrals anymore, they prefer the stadiums.”⁹¹ To paraphrase historian Georges Duby, it was as if Brazil was in a true age of the stadiums.⁹² Between 1968 and 1973, eight stadiums with capacity for more than 50,000 people were opened in the country’s capitals.⁹³ At the time, six of the fourteen largest stadiums in the world were Brazilian.⁹⁴ Erected as symbols of urban expansion and of the “economic miracle,” the soccer stadi At that point, the Transamazon Road was the only one Project that was completed. The others were still being constructed.  Sophie Beal, Brasil em construção – as obras públicas na literatura do século XX (Porto Alegre: Zouk, 2017), 145.  “Brasil: todos os caminhos levam ao desenvolvimento”. Revista Comércio e Mercado: um órgão da Confederação Nacional do Comércio, 1973.  Cartão Postal Itaipu. One postcard, Arquivo Havelange, Biblioteca do Comitê Olímpico Brasileiro.  “O Brasil possui o melhor conjunto de estádios do mundo”, Boletim da CBD, August, 1971, 14.  Georges Duby, O tempo das catedrais: a arte e a sociedade: 980 – 1420 (Lisboa: Estampa, 1993).  Estádio Vivaldão, Manaus, 1970; Estádio Machadão, Natal, 1972; Estádio Arruda, Recife, 1972; Estádio Pedro Pedrossian Porto, Campo Grande, 1971; Estádio Batistão, Maceió, 1969; Estádio Rei Pelé, Aracaju, 1970; Estádio Beira Rio, Porto Alegre, 1969; Estádio Pinheirão, Curitiba, 1972.  Hilário Franco Jr, A dança dos deuses: futebol, sociedade e cultura (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2007).

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ums dramatized the new era ushered in by the 1964 “revolution.” It was, in the words of the French journalist, it was soccer of the miracle. It may be difficult to transport the contemporary reader to that past where Brazilian soccer played a major role in world soccer beyond the lines of the pitch. For this reason, one should stress the fact that the architecture of Brazilian stadiums was far more advanced than that of Europe in terms of comfort, infrastructure and capacity.⁹⁵ In this regard, it is worth cross-referencing this information with Havelange’s plan to be candidate for president of FIFA. In this plan he promised (point 5) “to help underdeveloped and developing countries to build new stadiums and improve existing ones.”⁹⁶ The initial plan was for Brazilian stadiums to act as models, and the engineers would provide the technical know-how to build new sports facilities in both Africa and Asia. The stadiums, live works, were presented as an instrument of domestic and foreign policy. Starting in September 1969, CBD delegates begin requesting that FIFA publish photos of the new Brazilian stadiums in its bulletin.⁹⁷ This practice was institutionalized in August 1970 onward, with the promotion of Peter Pullen, a London-based Brazilian Embassy staffer, to South American representative on FIFA’s Press Committee.⁹⁸ Pullen started writing articles about Brazilian soccer, giving an international flavor to Havelange’s administration. Published in FIFA News, the first text in Pullen’s series is an overview of national soccer. In a way, this article anticipates and encapsulates the ones that followed as the themes they explored would be deepened in later on.⁹⁹ Pullen published the following chart, stressing the capacity of Brazilian stadiums:

 Christopher Thomas Gaffney, Temples of the earthbound gods: Stadiums in the cultural landscapes of Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2010).  Os oito pontos da candidatura de Havelange à presidência da FIFA: brochura de João Havelange à presidência da FIFA (Rio de Janeiro: c. 1974). One brochure (manuscript), BOC Library, Rio de Janeiro.  René Courté, Correspondence addressed to Confederação Brasileira de Desportos (Zürich: September 12, 1969). One letter, box CBD, 1968-1971. FIFA Archive.  FIFA News, August, 1970.  “A brazilian panorama”, FIFA News, November, 1970, 376 – 380.

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Table 1: Large Brazilian stadiums and their capacity, according to a table published in FIFA News in 1970. Location

Stadium

Capacity

Rio de Janeiro Curitiba São Paulo Belém Porto Alegre Belo Horizonte Salvador Recife Aracaju Campo Grande

Maracanã Pinheirão Morumbi Alcid Nunes Beira Rio Magalhães Pinto Fonte Nova José Rego Maciel Lourival Batista Morenão

, , , , , , , , , ,

Source: FIFA News, n. 90, November, 1970.

Along with the Jules Rimet Cup, won by Brazil, the new stadiums represented the legacy of the João Havelange administration at the CBD. Pullen, then, starts writing special articles about each one of them: Mineirão¹⁰⁰, Beira-Rio¹⁰¹, Morumbi¹⁰², and the Rei Pelé stadium¹⁰³. In his articles, Pullen provides a detailed description of the stadiums, including the press facilities, locker rooms, total attendance capacity, and always accompanied by photos. In June 1972, Maracanã was on the cover of the FIFA Bulletin. ¹⁰⁴ Like Furnas and Brasília, Maracanã dated back to the 1950s. With its elliptical shape, Maracanã acted an architectural inspiration for the stadiums built in later years. In the plan for national integration, carried out in partnership between the CBD and the Brazilian state governments, it was as if each city were capable of building its own Maracanã. Scattered throughout Brazil, the stadiums celebrated the rhetoric of Brazil Great Power. The case of Maracanã, which bore the epithet of “the largest stadium in the world,” also figured as the leader. In the other stadiums it was common practice to add the Portuguese superlative suffix “ão” to the end of each sta-

 Peter Pullen, “O mineiro – Venue for the Copa Independencia”, FIFA News, November, 1971.  Peter Pullen, “Beira-Rio Stadium, Porto Alegre, Brazil”, FIFA News, July, 1971.  Peter Pullen, “Morumbi Stadium – Sao Paulo, Venue for the finals of the Copa Independencia”, FIFA News, February, 1972.  Peter Pullen, “King Pelé Stadium – one of the venues for the Copa Independencia”, FIFA News, October, 1971.  Peter Pullen, “Twenty years of Maracanã – the venue for the little World Cup”, FIFA News, June, 1972.

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dium’s name – Tartarugão, Mineirão, Batistão, Arrudão, Castelão, etc. – but when this was not possible, the fans used a monumental expression to refer to the stadium – the Giant of Beira-Rio, the Colossus of the North, etc.¹⁰⁵ As part of the landscape of the Brazilian Miracle, the stadiums needed to be as grandiose as the future of the country would be: Lourival Batista Stadium, or rather, the BATISTÃO, is not only an achievement for the Sergipe government. […] Above all it is proof that the North and Northeast of Brazil is no longer some forsaken land that arouses feelings of pity among Brazilians, and has become the most glorious reality, a source of pride for all our people in built pace with the GREAT POWER BRAZIL.¹⁰⁶

From the point of view of Havelange’s personal project, the stadiums played a dual role. The construction of these sports venues went hand in hand with the plan for the national integration of soccer and the creation of the Brazilian championship in 1971. Without precise technical criteria, the CBD required the clubs vying for a spot in the tournament to have their own stadium.¹⁰⁷ Havelange cozied up to local political networks (politicians, engineers, governors, legislators). Such proximity gave him the aegis of greater legitimacy within the Brazilian State. As for governors, the inclusion of local teams in the Brazilian championship could, theoretically at least, help to increase their popularity.¹⁰⁸ However, the local networks connected to the global ones the minute Havelange started using these sports facilities as a mirror of his administration. Along these lines, the most ambitious political project during Havelange’s candidacy was the Independence Cup, also known as the Minicopa, or mini– World Cup, in Brazil. In 1972, the Independence Cup was the first International competition with global audience ever hosted in Brazil. Unlike the 1950 World Cup, which was attended by teams from the Americas and Europe, the Minicopa brought together participants from four continents: Asia, Africa, Europe and the

 Bernardo Borges Buarque de Hollanda, “O fim do estádio nação? Notas sobre a construção e a remodelagem do Maracanã para a Copa do Mundo de 2014” in Futebol, objeto das ciências humanas, comp. Flávio de Campos (São Paulo: Leya, 2014).  Boletim da CBD, November, 1969, 5. “Os estádios brasileiros”, Boletim da CBD (Special edition).  Sandro Francischini, “A difícil nacionalização do futebol – a era Havelange”, in Visão de Jogo: antropologia das práticas, comp. Luiz Henrique de Toledo and Carlos E. Costa (São Paulo, Terceiro Nome, 2009).  “Campo Grande no Tri. A construção do Morenão”, Boletim da CBD, May-June, 1970, “O Colosso do Norte”, Boletim da CBD, February, 1970, 17. “O progresso esportivo no Norte e no Nordeste do Brasil”, Boletim da CBD, April, 1970. “Ceará mostra estádio”, Boletim da CBD, May, 1972. “Paraíba constrói estádios para o nacional”, Boletim da CBD, August, 1973.

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Americas.¹⁰⁹ This enhanced level of participation bolstered two of the main points of Havelange’s candidacy for the FIFA presidency: the plan to increase the number of spots for national teams in the World Cup (up from 16 to 20) and the creation of a world club championship, with participation of clubs from five continents.¹¹⁰ By granting greater representation to Asia and Africa, the tournament sought to be a trial balloon for what the World Cup would be like under Havelange’s management. More global, more inclusive, the tournament would incorporate countries not only from South America and Europe, but from all over the globe. Nevertheless, the tournament was sold to Brazilian public opinion as part of the celebrations of the sesquicentennial of Brazil’s Independence. Both domestically and internationally, this point was important, since the order established by the Executive Committee was not to authorize any inter-nation competition, except under exceptional circumstances. FIFA had no interest in authorizing tournaments that could rival the World Cup. The justification for the celebrations was deemed fair by the Executive Committee. Had Havelange presented his tournament only as the Minicopa, it is likely that his request would have been denied.¹¹¹ On the other hand, by inserting the celebrations within the framework of the independence celebrations, Havelange was able to obtain the internal political support to carry the tournament forward.¹¹² In practice, the tournament was an international showcase of Havelange’s work as the chief of the CBD, the opportunity for an in loco appreciation of Brazil’s stadiums.¹¹³ Havelange decentralized the tournament venues, holding the games in twelve different capitals (Manaus, Natal, Recife, Maceió, Aracaju, Salvador, Campo Grande, Belo Horizonte, Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo, Curitiba, Porto Alegre). Most of the stadiums had been recently inaugurated. In addition to the FIFA and CBD bulletins, France Football magazine covered the tournament in a

 Oceania did not send any representatives.  Os oito pontos do programa de Havelange à presidência da FIFA. Brochura de João Havelange à presidência da FIFA (Rio de Janeiro: 1974). One brochure (manuscript), BOC Library Rio de Janeiro.  “FIFA, Emergency Meeting Committee” (México: January 11, 1970), Agenda […]. FIFA Archvives.  Janaína Cordeiro, “Lembrar o passado, festejar o presente: as comemorações do Sesquicentena´rio da Independê ncia entre consenso e consentimento”, (PhD diss., Universidade Federal Fluminense, 2015).  “CINQ milliones de déficit et des projets plein a la tete”, France Football, July 11, 1972.

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selection of special articles on Brazil’s culture, history and cities.¹¹⁴ Havelange himself was the subject of a two-page spread in a magazine. Max Urbine covered his routine as of president of the CBD to describe “24 Hours in the Life of the President of the CBD.” The Independence Cup was crucial in consolidating the alliance between South America and Africa. In this context it is important to point out that the magazine was published not only in France, but also in Francophone Africa.¹¹⁵ For the first time, the CAF decided to organize a continental team to compete in a soccer tournament, which drew the attention of the entire continent to the tournament. Some of the main Brazilian companies of the time, such as Varig Arilines and cigarette company Renitas Brasil, advertised in the African edition of France Football. ¹¹⁶ The European soccer associations, which supported Rous’ administration, however, immediately discerned the political purposes of the tournament and its role in Havelange’s candidacy for the FIFA presidency. Therefore, Germany, Italy, and England, the main European soccer powers, decided to abstain from participating in the competition. The refusal of these soccer federations was a blow to Havelange and the CBD. In organizing the tournament Havelange hoped to count on these federations, and anticipated revenues, hoping they would be covered by ticket sales from the games. In current values, the total costs of the tournament can be roughly estimated at 300 million reals.¹¹⁷ Unable to count with England, Germany and Italy, Brazil invited teams from France, Scotland, Yugoslavia, the Soviet Union and Portugal, besides the (ten) teams from South America, Iran, representing Asia, a CONCACAF team (basically a version of Haiti National Team), and the aforementioned team representing Africa. Without the traditional teams, the tournament’s income was lower than expected. The confederation came out of the tournament deep in debt, not knowing exactly how to cover the advance costs. The solution this time, according to the CBD report, was to turn to the government. The graph below shows the increase in government appropriations to the CBD in 1973 and 1974. In the report’s analysis, which includes the details of the expenses, it is apparent that the bulk

 “Bahia de todos os santos”, France Football, April 11, 1972. “20 selections pour un super tournoi”, France Football, June 6, 1972. “100 mil spectateurs pour la sélection africaine”, France Football, June 13, 1972.  The texts were published both in France Football African and European edition.  France Football (African edition), April 19, 1972.  For the total costs of Independence Cup, I based on CBD, Relatório da CBD de 1974 (Rio de Janeiro, 1974). One report, BOC Library. For transforming it on BRL, I based on FIEE website: www.dados.fee.tche.br.

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of the funds received by the government from the CBD in 1973 and 1974 were used to cover the loans taken out for the Independence Cup.

Graph 4: Accounting for budget allocations received from the Ministry of Education and Culture, from 1968 to 1974¹¹⁸. Source: CBD Reports.

Unlike in 1970, when Havelange chose to skip the government and look for businessmen to help cover the costs of the Mexico Planning, the political context of 1973 was radically different. With his prestige on the rise, and with free travel with President Médici, Havelange was able to resort to the Ministry of Education and Culture’s budget allocations to fund the Independence Cup. This bolsters the argument that there was no longer any distinction between the CBD’s political project and that of its leaders. The close ties between the CBD bureaucracy and the corporate-military government from 1972 onwards was an ongoing affair that climaxed with João Havelange’s victory as the president of FIFA. Therefore, despite the fiscal crisis generated in the CBD by the Independence Cup, it can be said that the tournament was successful. In the three weeks, Brazil became the world stage for debate on global sports policy with the presence of some 77 sports delegates visiting the country. For Havelange, it was the opportunity to strengthen relations with individuals who, in two years, tipped the scales in his favor in the election for the FIFA presidency.

 Reports of CBD between 1968 e 1974 can be find at different libraries, but I never found a complete collection of those. See FIFA Library, BOC Library and Federação Paulista de Futebol Library. The graph was based on those reports.

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The Brazilian national team and the myth of racial democracy No symbol embodied the rhetoric of the so-called Brazilian racial democracy as well as the national soccer team. At a time when European teams were homogeneous in their ethnic composition, the Brazilian soccer team fascinated the public by being both multiracial and victorious. In Havelange’s view, the Brazilian national team was one of the advertising tools in his race for the FIFA presidency. Besides preparing the team for the 1974 World Cup, a friendly tour aimed at strengthening bonds with countries allied to Havelange was set up in 1973, in the run-up to the election. Called Selebrás by official sources (an explicit allusion to the main state-owned companies of the time, Petrobrás, Eletrobrás, etc.), the national soccer team would tour Europe (Italy, Sweden, Austria, West Germany, the Soviet Union, Scotland and Ireland) and North Africa (Tunisia and Algeria) in 1973.¹¹⁹ It was the second time for the Brazilian team to visit the African continent. Parallel to the success of the Brazil men’s soccer team, the problem in South Africa was a political knot in the sporting institutions. With the establishment of the apartheid regime, sports became one of the ways African leaders and politicians engaged international public opinion against the South African regime. In the broader context of African struggles for independence the fight against apartheid in sports institutions was publicly justified in that the exclusion of blacks from South African sports teams ran counter to the principles of sporting universalism.¹²⁰ Starting in 1958, the pressure in sporting institutions intensified.¹²¹ Until about 1974, relations between Brazil and South Africa were generally guided by a kind of pragmatism focused on trade. The condemnation of the apartheid regime by Brazilian diplomats was timid until the mid-1970s.¹²² However, in sports policy, Brazilian leaders took an immediate stance against the apartheid regime. As early as 1959, the CBD barred Portuguesa Santista from playing a friendly match in Cape Town. On that occasion, four black footballers  Antonio Carlos Napoleão and Roberto Assaf, Seleção brasileira: 90 anos: 1914 – 2004 (Rio de Janeiro: Mauad, 2004).  Article II, FIFA Statutes (Zürich, 1973).  Douglas Booth, The race game: Sport and politics in South Africa (London: Routledge, 2012). Chris Bolsmann, “White football in South Africa: Empire, apartheid and change, 1892–1977”, Soccer & Society 11, (2010): 29. Paul Darby, “Stanley Rous’s ‘own goal’: football politics, South Africa and the contest for the FIFA presidency in 1974”, Soccer & Society 9 (2008): 259. Peter Alegi, African soccerscapes: How a continent changed the world’s game (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2010).  Pio Penna Filho, “África do Sul e Brasil: diplomacia e comércio (1918 – 2000)”, Revista Brasileira de Política Internacional (2001): 69.

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were kept from even leaving the ship on which they were staying. Foreign Minister Francisco Negrão de Lima and President Juscelino Kubitschek went public and ordered the match not to be held. From Egypt to Kenya, the news of the rejection by a Brazilian team was carried by the continent’s main newspapers.¹²³ In 1968, perhaps in anticipation of his campaign for the presidency of FIFA, Havelange was the lone voice among the Latin American representatives to march with the countries of the Afro-Asian bloc against South Africa’s readmission into the Olympic movement.¹²⁴ In 1973, when the Englishman Lord Killanin arrived in Brazil, he noticed a difference in how the South African problem was perceived in Brazil versus the rest of South America: I arrived in Brazil on May 21 and met at the airport by Mr. Juan (sic) Havelange, IOC Member and President of the Confederation of all sports […] In Brazil, which is a multiracial country, in comparison with Latin America, the view on the South Africa issue is different from the others, which, for the most part, are less multiracial and predominantly European countries without significant Black or Indigenous populations.¹²⁵

Brazil’s critical and combative stance in sporting institutions contrasted not only with that of the other Latin American representatives, but, above all, with that of the European delegates who refused to see apartheid as a legal problem. The British, who at that time dominated the sporting institutions, were particularly reluctant to impose strict measures against South Africa. They were even circumspect about the removal of SANOC (South African National Olympic Committee) from the Olympic movement in 1963, seeing it as a temporary measure, a concession to the African bloc in the face of a strengthening GANEFO.¹²⁶ At FIFA, the 1964 suspension of FASA (Football Association of South Africa), an exclusively white soccer association, was viewed in the same way.¹²⁷ In the re-

 José Paulo Florenzano, “Brasil e África do Sul: O futebol-arte no campo do Apartheid”, in Futebol objeto das ciências humanas, ed. Flávio de Campos (São Paulo: Leya, 2014).  “Sujet affaire afrique sud somme opinion demande revision doit etre soumise commission executive. Cio salutations. Havelange”. João Havelange, Correspondence (Rio de Janeiro: March 13, 1968). One telegram, Reactions des CNO suite a la decision de la Session, fevriravril, 1968 DRMOL AFRIS/015 7775. Lausanne, IOC Archives.  Draft Report by the president of the IOC on his visit to South America for the meeting of ODEPA (May, 1973), one report, Havelange Files IOC Archives, Lausanne  Terry Vaios Gitersos, “The sporting scramble for Africa: GANEFO, the IOC and the 1965 African Games”, Sport in Society, number 14.5 (2011): 645.  A FASA (Football South African Association) rivaled the SASF (South African Soccer Federation), the association of blacks, and the SAIFA (South African Indian Football Association), the association of Indians.

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port written by the FIFA delegation, chaired by Stanley Rous and James McGuire (USA), the delegates concluded that there was no discrimination on the part of the soccer association. Rous and McGuire’s argument was that FASA did not practice racism, since the separation of black and white was a governmental determination and the federation could do little about it.¹²⁸ Stanley Rous’s correspondence with FASA representatives lets slip a frank and friendly tone. Friendships, most likely built before Rous assumed the presidency of FIFA, weighed heavily in FIFA’s institutional decisions. It is worth mentioning that most of the countries that were part of Stanley Rous’ base of allies, such as, for example, Australia and McGuire’s own United States, did not see racism as a structural problem, and reproduced practices analogous to apartheid in their own lands. In the public arena, the Brazilian position appeared as the very antithesis to that of the British. The purpose here is not to stress the discourse of racial democracy, but to observe how, in a context where the separation between whites and blacks in sports was naturalized, the strength of a symbol such as the Brazilian team, multi-ethnic, champion and plural, certainly exerted institutional weight. In terms of political action, Havelange knew how to make use of this symbol in his own way, presenting Brazil as a mixed-race nation, democratic and open to racial differences. Paradoxically, this discourse was strengthened at a time when criticism of human rights violations by the Brazilian state was gaining international attention.¹²⁹ Even so, the version of Brazil as the paradise of race relations figures prominently as early as Havelange’s first speech as FIFA president: I was born in Brazil, a country that knows no racial or religious prejudice, a tremendous melting pot where everyone on the continent comes together to build a young country that works steadily toward development and wants to live in peace with all nations. In my blood flows with the egalitarian trends of my people, and their enthusiasm for work and production. I hope that these personal characteristics will allow me, with the warm collaboration of everyone involved, to make FIFA an institution without borders, that works for the development of the sport.¹³⁰

This time, the metaphor of blood acts as the link between the individual and the national, as if the character of a people were manifested by its outstanding individuals. In his individual action, Havelange embodies and mimics the charac FIFA, Addendum au Procés-Verbal du XXXIVéme Congress Ordinaire de la FIFA tenu le jeudi 8 octobre 1964 à Tokyo, Metropolitan Festival Hall, item XII – Expulsion d’une Association Nationale, 1964. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Clément Astruc, “Une victoire opportune”, Monde(s), 2019, 193.  “A Word From The President”, FIFA News, July, 1970, (grifos nossos).

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ter and fundamental characteristics of his people. In 1975, this time speaking to a Brazilian audience, Havelange gave a speech at the Gávea Country Club, where he again used the metaphor of blood to justify the need for a South American president at the head of FIFA: The new blood of Americans ought to be injected into FIFA’s body. Their blood and thinking. Believe me, I threw myself into the fight for the honor of Brazil, and you can be sure that, for Brazil, I will not neglect my duties. For the last decade, ever since the patriotism of the Armed Forces provided us with an atmosphere of peace and order, progress, for ardent and fruitful work, Brazil has shown the world unprecedented proof of its judgment and maturity. Only with wisdom do nations overcome thorns and find development. There are so many achievements with which this Brazilian world of ours, mixed-race, hopeful and tropical, has surprised humanity. Before the end of this century, if order, progress, and peace endure, all peoples will understand our national anthem and notice what the colors of our flag are.¹³¹

The adjectives – mixed-race, hopeful, tropical – used by Havelange to define Brazil and its people are clearly lifted from Gilberto Freire’s world.¹³² The examination of the modern Brazilian experience brought Freire an answer to the problems created in Europe and the United States. Thus, Brazil had managed to find ways and solved problems that remained deadlocks in the Anglo-Saxon world, particularly on the issue of race. The solutions to racism in the AngloSaxon world ought to be sought in studying Brazilian history.¹³³ Freyre’s main theories were popularized and gained traction in the post-1964 regime. On the one hand, research has shown how the agencies of repression and censorship worked to prohibit expressions such as racism, race, and black power, among

 João Havelange, “Discurso no Country Clube do Rio de Janeiro, 04 de março de 1975”, in João Havelange – determinação e coragem, ed. Vivaldo Coaracy (Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1978), 69, (grifos nossos).  Gilberto Freire was a Brazilian Sociologist, who went to United States to study with Franz Boas. By examining American Society Freire created the idea that Brazil was the opposite mirror of segregationist in America a “racial democracy”. For a general approach on his work, check: Peter Burke, and Maria Lúcia G. Pallares-Burke, Gilberto Freyre: social theory in the tropics, v. 11 (Peter Lang, 2008). Freire idea was also importante on the development of a Brazilian Football Style idea. Tiago Maranhão, “Apolíneos e dionisíacos : o papel do futebol no pensamento de Gilberto Freyre a respeito do povo brasileiro,” Análise Social, number 179 (2006): 435.  Sergio Tavolaro, “Gilberto Freyre e nossa “Modernidade Tropical”: entre a originalidade e o desvio”, Sociologias 15 (2013): 282. Gilberto Freyre, Interpretação do Brasil (São Paulo: Global, 2016).

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others from appearing in cultural activities and literary texts.¹³⁴ While censorship made it impossible to use these expressions, official publications celebrated the image of the three races.¹³⁵ In foreign policy aimed at Africa, especially post-1974, the rhetoric of racial democracy (not unchallenged) came to be used as a political tool. In the words of Jerry Davila: […] Geisel’s initiatives to establish autonomy from the United States and develop relations with the Third World were fraught with the rhetoric of racial democracy. But he was not the only one to have this perception. The idea of Brazil as a new model of economic development in the world and the very idea of racial democracy were shared among conservative Brazilians. Gilberto Freyre was a proponent of this image […] the character that political leaders gave to the idea of Brazilian autonomy and grandeur in the 1970s was shaped by beliefs about race and its role in Brazilian identity.¹³⁶

The difference here is that in the case of João Havelange’s campaign for the FIFA presidency, the other was not the United States, but South Africa and even more specifically England and its leaders, who refused to condemn apartheid. Almost fifty years later, Havelange recounted his confrontation with Stanley Rous as the dispute between Brazilian flexibility and British stiffness. “We [Brazilians] have always had an open heart. And forty years ago, England and the English were rigid.”¹³⁷ In 1973, CAF president Tessema seemed to be convinced of these positive representations about Brazil. Writing a text in which he criticized the idea of transferring the Israeli soccer federation from the Middle East to Europe,¹³⁸ an idea that was gaining more support in view of the political tension in the region, Tessema argued that there was no sporting justification for such a move. He concluded: “If their suggestion is to join countries that profess the same political ideology into the same Confederation and, based on this fact, are able to play soccer among themselves without any obstacles, then it goes without saying that there ought to be two European confederations, one for the NATO countries,

 Thula Rafaela de Oliveira Pires, Colorindo memórias e redefinindo olhares: Ditadura Militar e Racismo no Rio de Janeiro. Comissão da Verdade do Rio. Relatório (Rio de Janeiro: CEV-Rio, 2015).  Carlos Fico, Reinventando o otimismo: ditadura, propaganda e imaginário social no Brasil (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 1997).  Jerry Dávila, Hotel Trópico: o Brasil e o desafio da descolonização africana, 1950-1980 (São Paulo: Paz e Terra, 2011), 274.  João Havelange, interview by author (Rio de Janeiro, 2012).  Stanley Rous, “Problemas a nível continental y sus posibles soluciones”, FIFA News, March, 1972.

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and another for the Warsaw Pact countries, with the risk of one day seeing Cuba in the European Confederation and Brazil in the Confederation of African Football.”¹³⁹ In the early 1970s, Havelange’s candidacy boasted the strength of Brazil’s image as a modern civilization. At FIFA, the Brazil of 1972 was able to exert a sui generis leadership over the Third World bloc through a motley alliance made up of Africa, South America, and the Arab bloc. In a piece published in France Football, “With Havelange, until 2000,” editor Max Urbine seems to condense the representations of Brazil evoked in this chapter: In a matter of months, I knew that Brazil was becoming an industrial power, a cutting-edge nation in Latin America, with record growth. I also knew that in soccer, a three-time world champion, it was a phenomenon. But the reality of the Brazil of 1972 is even more brilliant. Next to João Havelange I felt the heart of the Brazilian miracle beating in São Paulo. I discovered the Bahia of yesterday, today and forever with Mr. Alfredo Curvello. I was tremendously knocked out in Brasilia, a symbol of the will of all the people, a prodigious city. Soccer is the soul of Brazil. Yes, 8,000 kilometers, the Maracanã, the Morumbi, the Fonte Nova in Salvador, grandiose theaters, arenas of wonders for the joy of soccer lovers. João Havelange knew how to create the conditions for a true explosion, which goes even beyond the soccer field. He serves an exciting country, a youth whose joy of life is expressed day in and day out. It is an example not just for Latin America, but for the whole world, and especially for Europe, which sometimes has trouble freeing itself from the prejudices of another era. […] The soccer world will rally around João Havelange’s panache, entrusting him with the presidency of FIFA. […] With Havelange at the head, the ball will quickly reach the year 2000.¹⁴⁰

As much as the campaign’s discourse stressed the polarization between a rising Third World and a decaying Europe, the reality of the electoral dispute was far from the propagandistic representations. Regional rivalries and local power struggles within the confederations played a key role in this reality. With the exception of the African bloc, which remained united and steady around the issue of South Africa, the other continents were divided. In a close election, exploiting dissent was crucial. Along these lines, the last chapter of this book the electoral map and the final events that led to Havelange’s victory in 1974.

 Y. Tessema, “Carta al señor Presidente de la FIFA, Sir Stanley Rous, por el Señor Y. Tessema, Presidente de CAF”, FIFA News, July, 1972.  Max Urbine, “Com Havelange, para o ano 2000!”, Boletim da CBD, September, 1973.

Chapter 5 The world that we had lost. FIFA political crisis and the making of a new international football order, 1971 – 1974 Voting maps On June 11, 1974, at FIFA’s Thirty-Ninth Congress, João Havelange was elected President, becoming the first (and so far only) non-European to head the institution. The initial chapters of this book examined the context of the 1960s, Havelange’s rise in Brazilian civil society, and the canvassing that made the internationalization of the Brazilian leader’s national project possible. Now it is time to examine the critical situation of the early 1970s to understand the factors that led Havelange to victory. In this regard, the chapter will map out the national associations allied to Havelange within FIFA itself. After all, which countries supported Havelange’s candidacy? How was the so-called FIFA crisis devised? The official memory surrounding the events usually portrays the electoral dispute as a battle between a newly decolonized South (with the majority of the Afro-Asian bloc, under the leadership of South America) and a North, hegemonized by Europe. When asked which countries supported him throughout his presidency of FIFA, Havelange did not usually exclude any continent, with the exception of the European bloc.¹ According to the official history, Havelange’s election represented the rise of the Third-World block and FIFA’s definitive globalization through greater participation of peripheral countries. Examining the history of Havelange’s election as FIFA president under a microscope removes it from stereotypes and official representations, though. The electoral map depicts a relatively more complex scenario, in which regional disputes played a major role in the election’s outcome. With such a framework in mind, this chapter explores three decisive political situations to better understand the election: the Soviet Union’s neutrality problem, the division on the Asian continent over the two-Chinas issue, and, finally, the split on the European continent between those radically opposed to peripheral countries’ participation in FIFA, and a more moderate group that defended the tutelary pact.

 Vivaldo Azevedo, João Havelange: determinação e coragem (Rio de Janeiro: Cia. Nacional, 1978). https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-010

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Graph 5: Growth in FIFA membership by country. Source: FIFA Handbook, 1929 – 1974.

Indeed, the decolonization processes in Africa and Asia led to a change in the make-up of FIFA’s membership. In 1904, when FIFA was founded, its nine members were from Europe. This remained the case until the 1920s when South American countries joined FIFA. In practice, the globalization process gained momentum after World War II, with the African independence processes. John Kelly and Martha Kaplan have suggested that decolonization was less an exit than an entry into a global order that shared much more with the previous moment than is assumed.² In this sense, an important part of the independence processes was to be accepted into the international public sphere, thus making membership in international sports bodies key to the quest for this legitimacy. As a result, FIFA membership was part of this broader process of gaining recognition. Internally, the creation of national soccer teams helped to lay the foundation for and build an embryonic national awareness.³ This process was practically over by the early 1970s. The sports bodies, which managed to fold their fiercest rivals into their monopoly, triumphed concurrently with the decolonization processes. By 1974, FIFA had 134 members. In this sense, virtually every independent country in the world was affiliated with FIFA, except

 John Kelly and Martha Kaplan, Represented communities: Fiji and world decolonization (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001).  Paul Dietschy, African and the football world (Paris: EPA; Hachette Livre, 2008), p. 103.

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for a few islands in Oceania and the Caribbean, Mongolia, and the People’s Republic of China. FIFA’s institutional design shifted from exclusively European world to global representation. The first time that any continent (Africa) had more members at the FIFA Congress than Europe was in 1974. However, just because the new nations were FIFA members did not automatically grant them corresponding political strength. Before any new nation member could enjoy equal political representation, it had to build a sound plan, with political, symbolic and economic legitimacy, capable of challenging the institutional order and the FIFA status quo, where the Europeans had most sway. The key to Havelange and his entourage’s efforts to form a bloc was the politicallegal legitimacy that Brazilian soccer’s success story lent to his candidacy. Furthermore, Europe and South America were responsible for the lion’s share of FIFA’s funding.⁴ Despite the Europeans’ opposition to the South American bid, they recognized it as legitimate.⁵ In an exercise of counterfactual history, the situation would have been different had the majority been mounted and led by an African or Asian leader. The alliance between the South American bloc and part of the Afro-Asian one can be described, by and large, in terms of a political exchange: the South American representatives lent their political prestige to the emerging countries and got their votes in return. Havelange’s success depended on transforming the will of this politically constructed majority into votes on election day. The delegates of the national associations, who pledged their support to Havelange, had to show up to the FIFA Congress to vote, be up to date with their legal and financial obligations to FIFA and strike a name on the ballot. Although these observations seem trivial, it is worth mentioning that the economic capacity of the newly decolonized countries was limited. The problem with paying the fees has already been described in the previous chapter. Unlike today, though, FIFA did not pay for delegate travel expenses to attend the Congresses, leading to a generally high number of abstentions. One of the fundamental problems for Havelange’s entourage was precisely the quorum needed at the FIFA Congress. In the interviews granted to Ernesto Rodrigues, Elias Zaccour and Peter Pullen estimated that Havelange’s success

 Heidrun Homburg, “Financing World Football,” Zeitschrift für Unternehmensgeschichte, 53 (2008): 33, accessed June 6, 2022, doi: 10.1515/zug-2008-0104.  Walter Winterbottom, “Sir Stanley Rous Exit From FIFA,” History Of Football Interview, accessed August 23, 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ESddqVeOdk. O pesquisador consultou a entrevista em áudio na íntegra no Museu do Futebol Inglês, em Preston.

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Figure 7: Ballot from the 1974 election with a catch: you had to cross out the name of the unwanted candidate. Source: Annex to the Minutes of the FIFA Congress, Frankfurt, 1974.

Graph 6: Attendance at the 1974 Congress by continent. Source: Minutes of the FIFA Congress, Frankfurt, 1974.

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hinged the presence of at least 120 at the Congress.⁶ If there were fewer, the chance of defeat would be greater. As it happened, 124 countries showed up, and there was only a 4-vote difference in the outcome. On the losing side, coach Walter Winterbottom, who was present in Frankfurt as a representative of the Football Association made a statement to the National Football Museum complaining about the fact that Havelange’s associates covered the travel costs of countries without resources to do so.⁷ The theme of corruption suddenly permeated the imaginations of those who were defeated, almost immediately after the election. In a revealing letter, and already quoted in this book, Stanley Rous wrote to Henry Banks: “I am afraid we will not speak to each other for a long time. As you may have seen in the news, Black Power, corruption and bribery have taken over our congress.”⁸ This mixing of categories – our Congress, Black Power, corruption and bribery – signaled that what had been corrupted in the 1974 election was actually a political-legal order that had been taken for granted. In this naturalized political order, the Europeans were casted as the tutors of Third World peoples and tasked with teaching good politics to the colonized. The reversal of this balance of power upended hierarchies that were thought to be immutable. The new institutional world, born of the chasm between the European bloc and the Afro-Asian bloc, was inevitably corrupted by an ingrained flaw: vote buying. Notwithstanding the Eurocentric discourse, the objective problem of possible bribery in the 1974 election persists. It is a thorny issue, and, of course, conclusions cannot be drawn from press reports or statements by the losing party. One would need hard evidence that shows the use of illicit means to obtain the victory in 1974, which is difficult to come by in corruption cases. The problem is that even Havelange’s critics, such as Andrew Jennings and Juca Kfouri, did not manage to find the first signs of corruption until 1980, with the partnership forged with the International Sports Leisure (ISL) soccer company.⁹ This partnership led Havelange’s conviction by the Swiss courts for receiving commissions on the signing of broadcast rights between FIFA and the broadcast companies. Havelange had to resign from the International Olympic Committee over the charges, but FIFA’s legal status (a private, non-profit institution) prevented him from

 Peter Pullen, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2003 – 2004). Acervo pessoal: Ernesto Rodrigues.  Walter Winterbottom, “Sir Stanley Rous Exit From FIFA.”  Stanley Rous, letter to Harry Banks (July 16, 1974) IOC Archives Lausanne, FIFA/COI. DRM02/ FOOTB/005, May, 1968 – 1978.  Andrew Jennings, Um jogo sujo: o mundo secreto da FIFA (Rio de Janeiro: Panda Books, 2012).

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suffering any penalty beyond a simple reprimand.¹⁰ Under Swiss law, the practice of commissioning was not considered unlawful at the time because FIFA was a private institution. Nevertheless, allegations of Havelange’s corruption have a long history. Havelange’s opponents in the Brazilian Congress and members of the press accused him of illegal acts related to expenses for the Independence Cup and the management of the CBD’s resources, and there was even an attempt to open a Congressional Inquiry (CPI, in Portuguese) to investigate possible wrongdoing. Nothing was proven, yet very little was actually investigated.¹¹ At any rate, what the historian can say in retrospect is that the political conditions that led to for his triumph began to coalesce in 1968 and were solidified by the first half of the 1970s. In other words, it seems relatively difficult to imagine that Havelange won the election exclusively by buying votes. From a broader perspective, it would be hard to imagine that the political atmosphere at FIFA was not favorable to the rise of a candidacy such as his. Many of the issues that plagued FIFA were also boiling to the surface in other analogous international institutions, such as the UN, during the same period.¹² In the early 1970s, Havelange’s election to the FIFA presidency was connected to three events – China’s return to the UN in 1971, Augusto Pinochet’s coup in September 1973, and the Carnation Revolution in Portugal. At FIFA, voting was secret, and one can only speculate – based on interviews, printed sources, secondary literature, correspondence – on the voting map in the 1974 election. Taking a close look at the documentary corpus, the historian can relatively easily decipher how each country voted. However, there are specific situations where sources of a different nature conflict with the analysis. The best such example is precisely the vote cast by Portugal’s representatives, when, in Brazil, sources state that the country supported Rous. In Portugal, on the other hand, journalists categorically stated that the Portuguese Football Fed-

 Check: “COI confirma renúncia de Havelange,” Globoesporte.com, December 05, 2011, accessed August 25, 2019, http://globoesporte.globo.com/olimpiadas/noticia/2011/12/coi-con firma-renuncia-de-havelange.html.  Maurício Toledo, “Maurício Toledo’ speech,” in Diário do Congresso Nacional (Brasília-DF, 1973), p. 342, “Havelange destrói intriga,” Boletim da CBD 9 (1973). On corruption and the military regime, see: Pedro Henrique Pedreira Campos, Estranhas catedrais: as empreiteiras brasileiras e a ditadura civil-militar, 1964 – 1988, (Niterói: EdUFF, 2014). See to: Heloísa Starling and Leonardo Avritzer, Corrupção: ensaios e críticas (Belo Horizonte: Editora UFMG, 2008).  Glenda Sluga, “The transformation of international institutions: global shock as cultural shock,” in The Shock of the Global: the 1970s in Perspective, ed. Niall Ferguson et al. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2010), p. 223 – 236. Mark Mazower, Governing the world: the history of an idea, 1815 to the present (New York: Penguin USA, 2013).

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eration (FPF) backed the CBD. A similar process occurred in Spain, where leaders declared they had voted for Havelange after the fact. Anyway, it is possible to deduce the framework of representation based on the documents collected over four years of research, some of which are discussed below. In this regard, the following maps provide illustration. The first represents voting in the first round whereas the second presents the second and decisive round election:

Figure 8: Voting map of João Havelange’s election against Stanley Rous for the FIFA presidency. First round, June 11, 1974. Source: Minutes of the FIFA Congress, Frankfurt, 1974.

In contrast to the official line that conjures up the image of a world divided between North and South, it is easy to note that many continents were divided by regional issues. Roughly speaking, Europe remained practically united around Rous, just as South America closed ranks around Havelange. However, these were not monolithic blocs. In South America, there were dissenters, such as Paraguay. The Paraguayan Football Federation apparently voted for Rous, with the clear goal of weakening the president of the South American Football Confederation (CSF, per its initials in Spanish), the Peruvian Teófilo Salinas, in favor of bolstering Nicolás Leoz’s candidacy for the top job at that institution. In Europe, the most accurate sources suggest that France, Spain, and perhaps Portugal, as

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well as Romania and Yugoslavia, supported Havelange. The African continent, in turn, appears to have been united around Havelange due to the apartheid issue and the China problem. However, Tomlinson and Sugden even stated that part of English-speaking Africa supported Stanley Rous because of the language issue, let alone that a possible rivalry was brewing between a French Africa (supporting Havelange) and an English Africa (supporting Rous).¹³ This debate is anything but closed, but Elias Zaccour’s opinion that 30 African countries supported Havelange in the 1974 election seems to be accurate.¹⁴ Undoubtedly, the Asian continent was the most divided. Marked by the Cold War, the Asian continent formed two blocs: the communist and Arab bloc, allied with Havelange; and the capitalist block, more in line with Israel and the USA, which supported Stanley Rous.

Figure 9: Second-round election. Source: Minutes of the FIFA Congress, Frankfurt, 1974.

 John Sugden and Alan Tomlinson, FIFA and the contest for world football: who rules the people’s game? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1998).  Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2003 – 2004). Acervo pessoal: Ernesto Rodrigues.

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The two most significant changes from the first to the second round were the votes cast by the Soviet Union and England, which shifted to support Havelange. According to Peter Pullen’s statement, the Football Association of England changed its vote as a pragmatic and diplomatic way of recognizing the victory of the rival candidate.¹⁵ Likewise, the Soviet Union decided to support Havelange in the second round. The reasons for this choice and how they tie into the broader context will also be the subject of discussion below. By way of conclusion, the chapter unravels and lays out the different regional contexts that led to varying voting patterns across regions, and how, consequently, these connect to the broader context of the early 1970s. In this respect, deviations at the regional level should not be seen as trivial. Broadly speaking, several Cold War historians have noted the impact of regional disputes on the shaping of a global order.¹⁶ This was no different in the case of Havelange’s election: regional and continental disputes had a decisive impact on his election as FIFA president.

“We will not tolerate women’s soccer developing outside the normal organization” Often neglected by FIFA history, the rise of women’s soccer ought to be included in the so-called FIFA crisis of the 1970s as a relevant development. Flexing its monopoly muscle, FIFA took on political and economic rivals that challenged its grip with two distinct approaches. They can be classified in the internal/external dichotomy. First, internal adversaries who could eventually break FIFA up from within. In this case the threat to the monopoly would be seen in a struggle over resources and would not necessarily imply the scrapping of FIFA’s more general political principles. Such threats have almost always come from “within” the “FIFA system.” In the 1990s, Marcelo Proni refers to European clubs and the various attempts to create a “European Super League” outside FIFA. In the case of such a split, there was no guarantee that the gains would be greater than the losses, and it was necessary to tread this terrain cautiously.¹⁷ The external adversaries, on the other hand, wanted to exist in parallel to FIFA. In other words, these were institutions that to a certain extent turned FIFA’s fundamental principles “upside down.” Such criticism almost always  Peter Pullen, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2003 – 2004). Acervo pessoal: Ernesto Rodrigues.  Odd Arne Westad, The global Cold War: third world interventions and the making of our times (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).  Marcelo Proni, A metamorfose do futebol (São Paulo: Editora da UNICAMP, 2002).

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came “from outside” FIFA. Certainly, the most important alternative entity that emerged in relation to both FIFA and the IOC was the Games of the New Emerging Forces (GANEFO), with its scathing criticism of the Eurocentrism of both institutions. GANEFO also criticized the idea of the “universalism of sport,” which was based on the “strict” separation of sports and politics, another of the underpinning principles of FIFA and the IOC. The Confederation of Independent Football Associations (CONIFA) was established in 2010, an organization that criticizes the idea that there can only be one national association per nation-state, as such an arrangement disenfranchises ethnic minorities and marginal groups within a single state. The CONIFA Football World Cup is played in packed stadiums by “countries” such as Kurdistan, Catalonia, Greenland or the current champions Abkhazia (a breakaway region of Georgia). The Gay Olympics (or Gay Games), studied by Wagner Xavier de Camargo, can be included in this category of external entities as it criticizes the ideology of national representation as being tantamount to heteronormativity.¹⁸ During the establishment of FIFA and throughout most of the twentieth century, soccer managed by the FIFA system was exclusively male. Women were kept “out of the FIFA family” for a long time. Although the rise of women’s soccer had its roots in contesting the FIFA order, it was quickly embraced by the entity. Even in countries where women’s soccer was legalized, FIFA explicitly discouraged its practice in men’s clubs. Some FIFA recommendations said that women’s soccer should not be played on the same fields that men’s soccer was played. In 1966, the FIFA Executive Committee stressed: Football for ladies. The committee was informed that from time to time the General secretary is asked by National Associations to give the views of FIFA about ladies’ football. The committee decided that FIFA should ask its members not to encourage football for ladies and to refuse the use of football grounds of recognized clubs for such matches.¹⁹

FIFA obviously did not have the power to legally ban soccer played by women, but by limiting its practice – by preventing it from being played in the same space as men’s soccer – FIFA effectively made women’s soccer completely im-

 On Confederation of Independent Football – CONIFA, accessed August 2, 2019, http://www. conifa.org. On GANEFO, ver: “Regulations of Ganefo Games (Indonesia, 1959 – 1968)”. FIFA Archives, Zürich. On Gay Games: Wagner Xavier de Camargo, “Esporte, cultura e política: a trajetória e a prática dos gay games,” Revista USP 108 (2016): 97, accessed July 8, 2022, doi: 10.11606/ issn.2316-9036.v0i108p97-114.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Executive Committee Meeting Minutes,” Minutes […] (London, April, 1966). FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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practicable. In some countries like Brazil the repressive apparatus of the State upheld the International Federation’s prohibitions. From 1942 to 1981, women’s soccer was considered illegal and its practice, although common, could be grounds for imprisonment. The main strategy of control was by medicalizing the female body. This process, by the way, was not so different from that seen in the Olympic Games. The socalled Femininity Certificates – the exercise of masculine power par excellence in its controlling of women’s sexuality – emerged at the 1968 Olympic Games. The tests entailed subjecting women to “sex” inspection to confirm that they were in fact women. As Georgia Cervin shows, women were perceived as passive, fragile, and naturally submissive. The sporting ideology – associated with virility, strength, and aggressiveness – was incompatible with the practice of certain sports by women, such as soccer. FIFA’s bulletin, FIFA News, often published recommendations to the contrary, based on supposedly medical determinations about the practice of the game. On both sides of the Iron Curtain, doctors banned women from practicing soccer.²⁰ Nevertheless, FIFA’s attitude towards women changed in the 1970s after women mobilized themselves. At the Women’s World Championship in Mexico in 1971 – an event not organized and nor recognized by FIFA – FIFA officials started to fear that women would start organizing themselves. “Even if women’s soccer represents a small part of soccer today, no one knows what share it will represent in the future.”²¹ In a letter addressed to the president of the Mexican National Federation, the Secretary General of FIFA noted the problem and its cause: Dear Mr. Ortiz, FIFA has not issued any instructions so far on women’s soccer, but the Committees are of the opinion that the national associations in countries where women’s soccer has not reached a certain importance would be well advised to take up this matter, especially in order to prevent women’s soccer from developing outside the normal soccer organization, and thus prevent business people from taking over this field of soccer. We know that, for example, the conservative FA and the DFB [German Football Association] have decided to be stewards of women’s soccer in their respective associations. Therefore, the competent national associations must affiliate women’s teams and establish special regulations for women’s soccer […]. The national federations must organize women’s soccer just as they do youth soccer. Having addressed this matter, I salute you. Käser.²²

 “Poco saludable el Futbol Feminino – URSS,” FIFA News, August, 1968.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Ordinary ,” Minutas […] (Cidade do México, 1970). FIFA Archives.  Helmut Käser, Correspondance with Mexican Football Association (Zürich, July 21, 1970). One letter. FIFA Archives. “Football for ladies. Mr Maduro emphasized the growing popularity of foot-

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The letter clearly infantilizes women as they are placed on the same soccer level as that of “youth.” Young people and women must always be tutored, directed and controlled. Here, the directors fear that these groups would acquire political autonomy and free themselves from the institution’s grip by organizing their own competitions and establishing their own rules. It is very interesting to see the quick about-face in the Executive Committee’s stance. That the women’s mobilization led to the disappearance of references to medical discourse in FIFA’s public documents is noteworthy. It is as if the 1971 championship marked the beginning of soccer being safe for women. According to the letter, FIFA’s role should be to prevent agents and representatives from taking over this branch of soccer for themselves.²³ The solution, therefore, was to bring women’s soccer into FIFA’s structure, and for FIFA to be able to protect it. After the “unofficial” championship organized in Mexico, the sole concern was that women’s soccer take place within the “normal footballing order,” to quote the FIFA Secretary-General. And yet, starting in 1971, women’s soccer was already a reality for FIFA officials. As much as women did not participate directly in FIFA politics – with the right to have a voice and vote – it seems clear that the holding of the women’s championship in 1971 helped to deepen the rift in FIFA’s political crisis, which was beginning to unfold. It was further proof that the normal soccer organization was taking on a new shape.

China: the last act In the “long sixties,” the South African issue appeared to be the nub of international sporting institutions. However, the early 1970s came with a twist. With China’s return to the United Nations in 1971, pressure from third-world bloc countries mounted for the reincorporation of the All-China Football Association, the Chinese national soccer association, into FIFA. During the Cultural Revolution, China remained relatively isolated from international institutions. Beginning in 1969, the scenario changed, marking China’s definitive estrangement from the Soviet bloc. In 1974, Maoism went back to the Three Worlds Theory. In the

ball for women and advised that this be taken over by the National Associations before it falls into the hands of promoters. […]. It was added that FIFA can only control a World Cup for Women if this type of football is controlled by National Associations, which should affiliated womens clubs”. Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Executive Commitee,” Minutes […] (London, August, 1971). FIFA Archives.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Ordinary Congress,” Minutes […] (Frankfurt, 1974). FIFA Archives.

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view of Chinese foreign policy, the division between socialism and capitalism was no longer relevant. The division that should prevail was between the most developed countries (the Soviet Union and the United States), the developed countries (Japan, Australia, Canada, and Europe), and the undeveloped countries (Asia, Latin America, and Africa). China belonged to this Third World, and the purpose of Chinese foreign policy was to draw closer to and lead this bloc of countries.²⁴ By the end of the Cultural Revolution, the success of China’s economic growth depended directly on the expansion of its relations with the rest of the world.²⁵ With its return to the United Nations, China also wanted to get back into sporting institutions, with the goal of participating in the Olympic Games. Additionally, sports came to be seen as a way of mending bridges that had deteriorated between China and Third World countries during the Cultural Revolution years. The international conditions in the early 1970s no longer favored a revolutionary project such as the Games of the New Emerging Forces capable of breaking with the existing sporting institutions. A good number of African and Asian countries had already joined the Olympic movement, and at the time, at least, the best strategy was to join forces and fight the institutions from within.²⁶ China’s Ping-Pong Diplomacy²⁷ – the sports backdrop for the reopening of U.S.-China relations – provided the framework for similar initiatives carried out by the Chinese government.²⁸ Africa, where soccer was the most popular sport, was especially targeted by the Chinese government’s efforts to organize friendly matches to celebrate the start or end of engineering projects in countries of the region.²⁹ Between 1970 and 1972, the Chinese government organized matches between the Chinese soccer team and local teams in Zambia and Tanzania to celebrate the signing of an international cooperation agreement (the construction of a bridge, a railroad, a road, etc.). In 1972, Rous wrote to Käser, reporting on the matches played by China.

 Chen Jian, “China, the Third World and the Cold War,” in The Cold War and the Third World, ed. Robert Mcmahon. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013).  Letícia Pinheiro, “Restabelecimento de relações diplomáticas com a República Popular da China: uma análise de processo de tomada de decisão,” Estudos Históricos 6 (1993): 247.  Fan Hong and Xiong Xiaozheng, “Communist China: Sport, politics and diplomacy,” The International Journal of the History of Sport 19 (2002): 319, doi: 10.1080/714001751.  Robert Frank, Pour l’histoire des relations internationals (Paris: PUF, 2015).  Hong and Xiaozheng, “Communist China: Sport, politics and diplomacy”.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Friendly matches with China,” Destinatary Helmut Käser (July 6, 1972). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich (Malaysia Football Association Box).

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According to the British consul in Beijing, China has been continuously playing friendly matches, even though they are unaffiliated with FIFA: Before 1967 – China played Yugoslavia, the Soviet Union, Hungary, Brazil and Romania. Between 1967 and 1970 – there was no soccer during the Cultural Revolution. Between 1970 and 1972 – the Chinese team played away games against: Syria, Iraq, Pakistan, Kuwait, Egypt, the Soviet Union, Algeria, Guinea, Mali, Tanzania, Zambia, Somalia, Albania. And home games against: Chile, Albania and Cuba.³⁰

The FIFA bureaucracy was anything but pleased about the Chinese government’s custom. The FIFA Statutes prevented national associations or clubs from establishing relationship with unaffiliated members, as was the case of China. In a letter written to Dr. Nozu, the Japanese representative to the FIFA Executive Committee, Rous described the situation as “embarrassing for FIFA.”³¹ The Chinese Football Association showed no interest in FIFA membership, and the (growing) number of matches it was holding was seen as a challenge to FIFA’s authority.³² The member associations argued that the matches between sending military teams (as in the case of North African countries) or student teams (as in the case of Chile) with no direct relation to institutional soccer bodies were intergovernmental initiatives. General Secretary Helmut Käser himself was generally adamant, and described the situation as “not very healthy,” and wondered whether it would not be better to lift the ban on matches, as FIFA had done in the 1930s regarding Great Britain.³³ In contrast, Stanley Rous took a radical and firm stance, banning any FIFA member team from playing friendly matches with China, threatening them with tougher sanctions.³⁴ In 1972, the delegates of the Chinese Football Association set the definitive expulsion of Taiwan, which upheld its sectarian position prior to the Cultural Revolution, as a condition for China’s return to FIFA. Repaying the favor, FIFA refused to accept Taiwan’s expulsion, an echo of the great interactions between national associations in similar situations (the two Germanies, the two Koreas, etc.). In practice, although there was a certain level of consensus about Communist China’s return to FIFA, there was none on how to approach the Taiwan question. Another problem was pride: FIFA officials expected the Chinese to take the

 Stanley Rous, Correspondance, Destinatary Helmut Käser (Zürich, January 11, 1973) One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Stanley Rous, Corrrespondance from Sr. Nozu, Executive Committee Member(January 11, 1972). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Ordinary Congress, 1972. FIFA Archives.  Helmut Käser, Correspondance addressed to Stanley Rous. (Zürich, January 15, 1973). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Stanley Rous, Football Words – a lifetime in sport (London: Faber and Faber, 1978).

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first step and recognize FIFA’s authority as legitimate. From May to October 1974, several international sports federations replaced Taiwan with China as affiliated members, accepting the condition imposed by Chinese sports policy.³⁵ The most influential sports federations, those connected to the Olympic movement, however, held to their stance of not expelling Taiwan, and allowed the Chinese to compete in tournaments as guests, at most, but without political power.³⁶ The situation in China had a direct impact on the 1974 election, splitting the Asian continent in two. Unlike the African continent, united around the issue of apartheid, the defining theme on the Asian continent was the Cold War division. The Asian Football Confederation was dealing with – to use Helmut Käser’s own words – a special situation. In his letter to the FIFA secretary, the secretary of the Asian Football Confederation explains the Asian perspective: Dear Helmut Käser, Most members of the Asian soccer confederation have no relations with the People’s Republic of China, and even if they were to become members of FIFA, the confederation would be treated just like North Korea and North Vietnam so long as the war persists in Vietnam and the peace treaty between the two Koreas is not signed. In other words, it is unlikely that the People’s Republic of China will be admitted as a member of the Asian Football Confederation.³⁷

This situation was not unique, and a large number of the continent’s countries, despite the statutory rules, had affiliated with FIFA directly, bypassing affiliation with the Confederation. In a continent divided by the Cold War, the communist bloc, composed of countries such as North Korea, North Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos, among others, were directly affiliated with FIFA, but not with the continental confederation. Even the Arab countries delayed joining the AFC until the early 1970s.I n this sense, although they could play qualifying matches like those of the World Cup – and it is worth recalling that North Korea even qualified for the 1966 World Cup – these countries were unable to take part in regional tournaments, such as the Asian Football Championship. Obviously, FIFA was none too thrilled with the status quo taking root in Asia. On several occasions the FIFA President himself, along with the General Secretary beseeched Koe-Wai Teik, Secretary of the Asian Football Confederation

 See: Fan Hong and Lu Zhouxing, “Politics First, Competition Second – Sports and Chinas Foreign diplomacy in the 1960s and 1970s,” in Diplomatic games: Sport, statecraft, and international relations since 1945, ed. Heather Dichter and Andrew Johns (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2014).  Hong and Zhouxing, “Politics First, Competition Second”.  Koe-Wai Teik, Correspondance to Helmut Käser. One letter. FIFA Archives.

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(AFC), to act so that those countries not affiliated to the Confederation become so immediately.³⁸ It would not be imprecise to say that this situation lasted as long as it did because Stanley Rous milked it for an indirect benefit – control over the majority of the seats on the Executive Committee. The representatives of Capitalist Asia – Malaysia, Japan, Israel, Thailand, Hong Kong, Singapore, etc. – were among the most devoted allies of Rous’ tenure at the head of FIFA. These alliances, which dated back to the time of English colonization, survived in FIFA. Just to illustrate the close ties between Rous and Asian leaders, on more than one occasion, the representatives of the AFC wanted upstage the English Football Association and advance his name as a candidate for the FIFA presidency.³⁹ This helps to explain why, as FIFA president, Rous had allocated a substantial amount of the Technical Development Committee’s resources to the countries of Southeast Asia.⁴⁰ An Asian Confederation without Communist countries meant that the seats on the AFC Executive Committee, defined according to the confederation system, were naturally dominated by the national associations that controlled the confederation and that made up Stanley Rous’ field of alliances. With this in mind, having a majority on the Executive Committee was crucial for good governance of FIFA. By the middle of 1972, when China had already returned to the United Nations, even the British, through the Foreign Office, started to pressure FIFA to reincorporate China. In February 1972, Harrold Thompson, chairman of the Football Association and founder of the Great Britain-China Committee, had the idea of sending an English team to mainland China.⁴¹ Likely inspired by PingPong Diplomacy, the UK’s Foreign Office wanted to reach out to China again through sport, with the visit of a Division I team – Arsenal even wrote to the Foreign Office to show interest – or a national U-23 team to China. In meetings with English diplomats, Rous said that this would not be possible precisely because of China’s non-membership in FIFA. If any English team were to play matches in China, they would be punished immediately. Even though the FIFA president was English, FIFA would not make any exceptions.

 Stanley Rous, “Report from trip to Thailand” (August, 1967). One report. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Federation Internationale de Football Association, “Friendly matches with China,” DestinarayL Helmut Käser (July 6, 1972). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich (Malaysia Football Association Box).  Iran Football Association, Destinatary: Helmut Kaser, One box, 27 May, 1969. FIFA Archives, Zurich.  H. L. Davies, “English Football teams visit to China,” (London, June 1, 1972). One letter. Far Eastern Department. Exchanges of Sport between China and United Kingdom (part A) FCO 34– 154. National Archives, Londres.

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Even under pressure from the British government and allies within the Football Association itself, Rous balked and refused to join the advocates for reincorporating China and raised the special authorization for matches played by English teams. What is interesting to note is that not even the English diplomats seemed to understand “why Taiwan’s affiliation with FIFA made it so difficult for a British team to go to China.”⁴² An English diplomat then came up with the idea of sending a team of players not affiliated with FIFA. In this case, sending a team of lesser technical quality to China could potentially weaken the UK’s image as a soccer country, so they ended up preferring not to send a team at all.⁴³ Rous insisted that the Chinese ought to take the first step by expressing their interest in returning to FIFA.⁴⁴ The possible explanation for this stance, beyond the ideological aspect, is that Rous’s political ties at FIFA forced him to consult with his support base before moving forward on reincorporating China into FIFA. In this sense, loyalty to his political base trumped his loyalty to the British government. Havelange took the opposite path. It is worth noting that the election took place in June 1974, and Brazil did not recognize the government of Communist China until mid-August of that year. In June 1974, Brazil’s official position was not to recognize the government of the People’s Republic of China, but rather the government of Taiwan. Undoubtedly, Brazil’s process for recognizing the People’s Republic of China was underway. Eyeing China’s large consumer market, several sectors of Brazil’s business community were putting pressure on the Brazilian government to resume relations with the country. On April 10, 1974, a group of Brazilian coffee traders led by Giulite Coutinho, future president of CBF and then president of the America Football Club in Rio de Janeiro and president of the Brazilian Exporters Association set out on an expedition to China.⁴⁵ According to political scientist Letícia Pinheiro, negotiations for reestablishing Brazil-China relations began as early as November 1973 and dragged on until August 1974. Ernesto Geisel and Azeredo da Silveira had been discussing

 Far Eastern Department Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Foreign and Commonwealth Office (July 21, 1972). One letter. Exchanges of Sport between China and United Kingdom (part B) FCO 34– 155. National Archives, Londres.  HarroldThompson, “China – Football,” (December 22, 1972). One report. Exchanges of Sport between China and United Kingdom (part A) FCO 34– 154. National Archives, Londres.  Stanley Rous, “Correspondance to: Mr. Ian Petri (Hong Kong, September 14, 1972). One letter. Exchanges of Sport between China and United Kingdom (part A) FCO 34– 154. National Archives, Londres.  João Paulo dos Reis Velloso et al., Tempos Modernos – Memórias do Desenvolvimento (Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2004), p. 132.

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the problem since January. One of the key concerns raised by the military government’s bureaucracy, however, was to emphasize the economic and pragmatic aspects surrounding the restart of Brazil-China relations, setting politics aside wherever possible. Without a doubt, this was a way to minimize the impacts the resumption would have on public opinion.⁴⁶ João Havelange’s election to FIFA took place in the middle of the renegotiation process. In the run-up to the election, the Brazilian government pressured Havelange directly to avoid the China issue at the FIFA Congress. According to Peter Pullen, Chancellor Azeredo da Silveira himself called Havelange directly, and instructed him not to mention the issue.⁴⁷ This was a predicament for Havelange because if he wanted to secure victory in the election, he needed to side with People’s China, and against Taiwan. At the Congress, a sports delegate from Kuwait proposed to vote on a motion for the expulsion of Taiwan, and admission of China. In the end, the number of countries in favor of China was quite similar to the final number of those voting for Havelange. The countries that sided with Kuwait’s motion to expel Taiwan supported his candidacy. Havelange needed to speak out or else jeopardize his campaign efforts.⁴⁸ Disobeying direct orders from Itamaraty, Havelange spoke out in favor of readmitting China, and was elected. Taken together, the acts of political disobedience performed by Havelange and Rous paint a pretty clear picture of the ambiguous stances of the sports institution’s delegates regarding state interference. Despite having used the state bureaucracy to secure funding for his campaign for the FIFA presidency, Havelange’s individual project was relatively autonomous in relation to these spheres. In this sense, Havelange’s own project outweighed upholding a Brazilian government instruction. Rous to a certain extent adopted a very similar stance to that of Havelange. Standing firm, Rous ignored the British government’s orders in favor of defending his own convictions, his allies, and the status quo at FIFA. In this aspect, sports delegates are quite different from career diplomats, seen exclusively as practical instruments of state action.⁴⁹ In Brazil, Havelange’s play was not well received by the upper echelons of the military government. Institutions such as Itamaraty and the Army are hier-

 Letícia Pinheiro, “Restabelecimento de relações diplomáticas com a República Popular da China: uma análise de processo de tomada de decisão,” Estudos Históricos 6 (1993): 247.  Embaixada do Brasil em Bonn, “Ofício nº 285. Secreto/Urgente,” destinatário: Secretaria de Estado. Índice – Eleição do Senhor João Havelange para a presidência da FIFA. A questão RPC/ República Popular da China. 1 ofício. Arquivo Itamaraty, Brasília – DF.  On Kuwait Proposal, 59 countries were in favour against 47, and 16 abstentions.  Pierre Bourdieu, Sobre o Estado (São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2012).

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archical by definition and disobeying a direct order is considered an act of insubordination. It begs the question, though, was Havelange subject to the orders of Itamaraty and the government? It was up to him to maneuver through a crisis. Havelange was aided in doing so by Gilberto Coutinho Paranhos Velloso, then First Secretary, and the one who joined the Frankfurt mission in 1974. Documents collected at Itamaraty show how Velloso had accompanied the Brazilian team in Mexico in 1970. On this occasion, Velloso became closer to Havelange, and it is likely that they became close friends. In 1971, together with the Mexican ambassador, Havelange named him a CBD benefactor for the services rendered in the campaign for Brazil to become a three-time champion. Velloso reappeared in 1974, this time as Itamaraty’s delegate at the Frankfurt Congress. Velloso’s presence at the Frankfurt Congress seems to have been at the request of João Havelange himself. Velloso was living in Brasilia at the time and traveled to Frankfurt to attend the Congress. Velloso ended up writing a six-page telegram describing the political situation at FIFA. In it, Velloso placed Havelange’s actions in the context of a “critical electoral situation” and, in a way, justified his decision: The electoral scenario is indicative of the concern with which the CBD Delegates to the FIFA Congress (Mr. João Havelange himself, Minister João Lyra Filho and Mr. Sylvio Correa Pacheco, Vice-President of CBD) viewed the problem of the Chinese initiative, given the decisive ramifications it had on the support from the Afro-Arab-Asian bloc for Mr. Havelange’s candidacy for the FIFA presidency. It should be noted that Mr. Havelange’s participation as a delegate in the Congress was a last-minute decision due to the electoral situation, while at the request of the same delegates, Secretary Gilberto Coutinho Paranhos Velloso himself kept in touch with the Head of the DAO [Division of Asia nd Oceania, a division at Itamaraty] by telephone, as the CBD representatives wanted to have ample freedom to maneuver, which was granted to them by Itamaraty. They were told, in response, that the only recommendation that Itamaraty could make had already been made and could not be changed, and that it was up to Mr. Havelange to judge freely, in light of what he himself considered to be the greater or lesser, official or unofficial degree of relations between the CBD and the government, in this case Itamaraty.⁵⁰

Although Havelange pressed to get authorization, Itamaraty remains firm in its position of not taking sides regarding the People’s Republic of China. In this critical electoral scenario, it was up to Havelange himself to decide against following the government’s instructions. Velloso’s telegram continues, expressly defending Havelange. Below, the diplomat stresses that Havelange’s participation was not voluntary, but at the demand of the Afro-Arab-Asian block.

 Embaixada do Brasil em Bonn, “Ofício nº 285. Secreto/Urgente”.

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It should be noted here that Mr. João Havelange intervened in the debates just before China (Taiwan). By all accounts, his participation was due to the insistence of the Afro-Arab-Asian delegates who supported his candidacy for the presidency that he speak publicly. Mr. Havelange was quite skillful and his remarks contained only two points: on one hand, he declared that he supported readmitting the PRC (but did not touch on the problem of excluding Taiwan) and, on the other hand, he asked the chairman of the Congress to settle, as usual, The European countries, it should be noted, were opposed to excluding Taiwan because they have always defended the premise that FIFA is apolitical and that, therefore, the Federations of the two Chinas fit perfectly in the organization.⁵¹

In the context of the military dictatorship, Havelange’s bold gesture had repercussions on Itamaraty itself. Like lightning, the Brazilian diplomat at the embassy in Managua, Nicaragua, did not understand what was going on, and asked headquarters, had the Brazilian government changed its position? BRASEMB-MANAGUA. Entry of Communist China into FIFA. João Havelange’s statements. “The last formal instruction to the head of the post dates from August 5, 1969. Notices at times signal the positions that will be followed by the Brazilian government and we can follow Itamaraty’s thinking about the recent leadership your Excellency assumed, I have read statements in Brazilian newspapers and magazines sent to me by […] we live in Managua with no access to Brazilian radio reception. […] Recently Mr. João Havelange declared abroad and it was published here with emphasis that he proposed [sic] China’s entry into FIFA and the exclusion of Nationalist China, however I only knew about a private commercial mission sent to Beijing, followed by members of Itamaraty”. (Itamaraty – sports).⁵²

The Managua telegram is yet another document that exemplifies the liminal and ambiguous status (linked to the state, but with a certain degree of autonomy from it) of Havelange’s position and that of sports diplomacy in relation to the government. Although seen as a member of the government, Havelange had certain leeway, which in the spur of the moment needed to be engaged. Like to Rous, Havelange stood firm in his convictions, much to the disbelief of the Brazilian diplomat. Against this background it is worth recalling that English diplomats did not understand Stanley Rous’ positions, either. Making sense of this required thinking beyond the scope of the state to capture the bigger picture of FIFA politics. Both were inexorably tied to their political bases.

 Embaixada do Brasil em Bonn, “Ofício nº 285. Secreto/Urgente”.  Embaixada do Brasil na Nicarágua, Correspondance (Managua, July 14, 1974). One letter. Sports’ folder. Arquivo Itamaraty. Brasília – DF.

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A telegram from Santiago In June 1974, dictator Augusto Pinochet wrote to acting FIFA president Stanley Rous, thanking him for the chance for Chile to play in the World Cup that year. In a short and yet unpublished telegram, Pinochet emphasizes the FIFA bureaucrats’ supposed impartiality, autonomy, independence from politics and immunity to international pressures: Accept the acknowledgement of the people and government of Chile for your institution’s decision to ratify our team’s classification. This reflects that the International Football Federation and its board put sports first and act independently of political interests in wishing our team a successful World Cup […]. Augusto Pinochet Ugarte, president of the government council of Chile.⁵³

Why would a head of state thank the president of FIFA for his national team’s qualification to the World Cup? What impact could this telegram have had on João Havelange’s election? The telegram from the Chilean dictator is actually the end of a story that began the previous year before, when Chile and the Soviet Union competed in a two-legged playoff for the 1974 World Cup. On September 26, 1973, the first match was played at the Lenin Stadium in Moscow in the Soviet Union and ended in a no-score draw. The second match was supposed to take place in Chile in November. However, the Soviets, who had broken off relations with Chile after the September 11, 1973 coup, decided to boycott the match, and asked FIFA to hold the game on neutral territory. The reasons for the boycott are laid out in Russia’s official statement below: Official Statement of the Soviet Football Federation to FIFA – We recommend that the match between the teams of the Soviet Union and Chile not be played in November 1973. We know that due to a fascist uprising, which ousted Chile’s legitimate Popular Unity government, the prevailing atmosphere of bloody terrorism, repression, the abolition of constitutional guarantees coupled with a campaign against socialist countries and democratic forces is forcefully anti-Soviet and permissive of violence against Soviet citizens. In Chile, the National Stadium, supposedly the field for the match between our teams, was transformed by the military junta into a concentration camp, a place where Chilean patriots were tortured and executed. The stands imprison thousands of innocent people, including Cuban coaches living in Chile, invited by Chile’s sports federations. The Football Federation of the Soviet Union addresses FIFA to propose that the match be hosted in a third country because Soviet athletes, under these conditions, cannot play in the stadium bathed in the blood of Chilean patriots. FIFA, meanwhile, neglects the abominable crimes of the military junta and takes the words of the Chilean Minister of Defense into consideration. […] The

 Augusto Pinochet, Correspondence to Stanley Rous (Santiago, June 7, 1974). One telegram. Pasta Avulsa. FIFA Archives. Zürich.

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Soviet federation declares its protest on behalf of Soviet athletes and declares the situation untenable […] Due to the above, the Soviet Union refuses to participate in a match on Chilean territory and holds the leaders of FIFA responsible for this. […] Finally, the USSR wants to play the match on neutral territory, and reaffirms its willingness to do so.⁵⁴

After the Soviet’s biting statement, the matter was taken up by the World Cup Organization Committee, when three delegates – an Ethiopian, the Soviet and the Yugoslavian – endorsed the Soviet Union’s proposal. Additionally, FIFA received diplomatic cables from the national soccer associations of the Netherlands, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Algeria, Hungary, Cuba, Romania, and the Confederation of African Football (CAF) itself.⁵⁵ Whereas UEFA sought a compromise, CONMEBOL took Chile’s side. Their defense of Chile was based its good result away from home and that a match on neutral territory would go against the sporting spirit of the confrontation and create an imbalance between the rivals. Underscoring this argument, the South Americans claimed there had been no such demonstration on September 21, at a meeting between FIFA and the two national federations to lay the groundwork for the match. In the same document, the Chileans also emphasize the fact that the meeting took place after the coup d’état, and therefore after the breakdown of diplomatic relations between the two countries. In short, the thesis defended by the South Americans was that the Soviets, in essence, were mobilizing international public opinion to obtain sporting gains.⁵⁶ In October 1973, FIFA News summarized the events, and reported that a committee of FIFA members had traveled to Santiago, concluding that there was no problem in holding the match: Host country for the match between Chile and the Soviet Union – After a request from the Soviet Union that the match between the Soviet Union and Chile not be played in light of the situation in Chile, the FIFA World Cup Organizing Committee decided to send a delegation to examine whether the conditions in Santiago de Chile guaranteed normal and sporting conditions for the match. The FIFA delegates, Mr. Abilio de Almeida, Vice President, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and the Secretary General Dr. Helmut Käser, Zurich, Switzerland, were in Santiago from October 23rd to 25th to carry out the necessary probe. On October 26, the delegates informed President Stanley Rous that after the consultations and investigations there is no reason not to keep Santiago as the venue of the second match.

 Federacija Futbola SSSR to Fédération Internationale de Football Association (Moskva, November 3, 1973) apudNEWS 126 (1973).  Fédération Internationale de Football Association. “Agenda of the Meeting n. 9,” of the World Cup Organizing Committee to be held at the Hotel Airport, Frankfurt, January 5, 1974, at 9:30.”. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association. “Agenda of the Meeting”.

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Therefore, the match between Chile and the Soviet Union will be played on November 21, 1973.⁵⁷

How does this story intertwine with the dispute between João Havelange and Stanley Rous? Contrary to what the literature assumed, the episode ended up distancing the CBD’s leader from the Russians, leading the Soviets to abstain from the election in the first round and to let the Iron Curtain countries vote freely.⁵⁸ Against a common enemy, Rous and Havelange appeared to be on the same page, positioning themselves against the Soviet Union for both pragmatic and ideological reasons. The event itself is proof of how politics in the strict sense intertwines with the sporting sphere. What facilitates the linkages between the field of sports and the political sphere is a pure and simple soccer match. Under normal circumstances, Pinochet’s 1973 coup in Chile would have had no influence on FIFA’s 1974 election. But in a match that pitted the socialist bloc against the Latin American dictatorships, the problem emerged as a concrete issue. And the delegates and candidates for the FIFA presidency had to deliberate on the political problem. In practice, the history of the confrontation between Chile and the Soviet Union began long before the match was played. First of all, it is necessary to understand how the two teams came to face each other. Upon closer inspection, it comes as no surprise that this was the only time a playoff for a World Cup berth involved a direct confrontation between a European and a South American team. At least since 1966, FIFA had been under pressure to increase the minimum number of countries allowed to play in the World Cup. At the 1966 World Cup in England, the African bloc countries staged a boycott demanding greater participation in the next tournament.⁵⁹ At the time, the African continent had an indirect berth: the winner of the African qualifiers played a playoff against the winner of the Asian continent to decide who would ultimately play in the final stages of the World Cup. In FIFA’s technical language, it was as if each continent had half a place in the tournament. After the boycott FIFA decided that each continent would have a direct berth in the final stages of the tournament and eliminated the playoffs. In 1970, with a European team that had won the world championship and qualified directly for the tournament, there was no dispute over what to do with the remaining spot. But with Brazil’s victory in 1970, the pressures on the South American continent intensified. Thus, South America  FIFA News, October, 1973, 4.  John Sugden and Alan Tomlinson, FIFA and the contest for world football: who rules the people’s game? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1998).  Paul Dietschy, African and the football world (Paris: EPA; Hachette Livre, 2008)

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did not want to give up its three spots for the 1974 World Cup, in addition to the one already secured by Brazil. Without reaching a consensus on who would give up the spot, the committee decided that Europe and South America would each give up 0.5 spot, respectively, and compete on the field for the remaining spot in the World Cup. After the knockout matches, Chile and the Soviet Union qualified for the repechage playoffs.⁶⁰ Representatives of the Soviet Union have held strategic posts at FIFA since 1946. In the negotiations for the Soviet Football Association’s return to FIFA, the Russians secured a vice-presidency, as well as the inclusion of the Russian language as an official language of FIFA.⁶¹ Bolstered by the Allied victory in World War II, the Russians were able to bargain for a legal status like that of the British. In the 1960s, the Soviets adopted a sports policy that increasingly focused on the countries emerging from decolonization.⁶² In this sense, the Russians and British established a pragmatic alliance, even if in 1961 the Soviets supported the election of Yugoslav Andrejevic as president of FIFA. Nevertheless, the countries’ agendas converged in their defense of an exclusive vice-presidency for the soccer federations of the Soviet Union and the United Kingdom respectively, a legal situation that as the years went by glaringly became a relic. At FIFA, vicepresidencies were assigned to the continents through the confederation system, and it made no sense for two countries (the UK and the Soviet Union) to have permanent vice-presidents. Moreover, as Rous became keener on the former colonies, Granatkin, the Russian vice-president, saw an opportunity to strengthen Soviet ties with the so-called Third World countries. Rous appointed Granatkin as the first chairman of the FIFA Development Committee as a way of institutionalizing the alliance. From a Brazilian vantage point, Havelange often praised his cordial relations with the Russians and would characterize the Soviet leaders as “loyal” and people who “kept their word.”⁶³ It comes as no surprise that a devotee of hierarchy like Havelange expressed some nostalgia for the Cold War: “An orderly world. There was no terrorism because you had a world with two columns, and they

 Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Agenda of the meeting No. 3. World Cup Organizing Committee. Meeting No. 3 in Dusseldorf on 16/17 July 1971.” FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Fédération Internationale de Football Association, “Minutas do 25º Congresso da FIFA” (Luxemburgo, 1946). FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Jenifer Parks, The Olympic Games, the Soviet Sports Bureaucracy, and the Cold War: Red Sport, Red Tape (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2016).  Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro: a história de João Havelange (Rio de Janeiro: Record, 2007), 285.

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kept the world in balance.”⁶⁴ Moreover, Havelange knew that winning the 1974 election hinged on the support of the Soviet Union. In this line, Havelange contacted Iuri Kler, an embassy official, to advise him. Son of Russian immigrants, Kler was the first employee of the Brazilian Embassy in Moscow to speak Russian. In an isolated country, where few people mastered foreign languages, having an official like Kler by his side was a basic condition to open negotiations. At first the Soviets were interested gaining in Havelange’s support for electing Moscow to host the 1980 Olympic Games, and promised support in the FIFA election in exchange for the Brazilian’s vote in the IOC.⁶⁵ The host of the 1980 Olympic Games would be decided at the end of 1974, a few months after the clash at FIFA, and Havelange’s star was rising as an influential member of the International Olympic Committee. At the IOC, Havelange’s power over South America could turn key votes for the Soviets. Moreover, the Soviets were watching Havelange’s affinity with decolonized countries carefully and cautiously, noting the shift in the political axis within FIFA itself. The intertwining of IOC and FIFA politics explains why Havelange had an advantage in winning the Russian’s support in the 1974 election.⁶⁶ Even so, a good indication of just what was at stake for the Soviets can be gleaned from the interview with Iuri Kler, Havelange’s representative in the Soviet Union. According to Iuri Kler himself, the Soviets asked Havelange for a vicepresidency at FIFA. In that interview Kler mixed up the facts, as if this vice presidency had been newly created during Havelange’s term. Kler’s mix-up reveals how, in practice, the most important thing for the Soviets was precisely to ensure their privileged status, guaranteeing that Havelange’s election would not mean a radical rupture in FIFA. In other words, even more important than guaranteeing new privileges, the important thing was to keep things as they were at FIFA.⁶⁷ In 1972, the Soviet Union was invited to Brazil for the Independence Cup and played its matches in Brazil. Along with Yugoslavia, Scotland, and France, the Soviets were part of the group of European countries that agreed to play in the tournament. In 1973, the Brazilian team would reciprocate the gesture, playing a friendly match in the Vladimir Lenin National Stadium against the Soviet team. From the CBD, the courteousness continued at a reception held at the Brazilian Embassy in Moscow, when Havelange congratulated Yashin, the “Black

 Ernesto Rodrigues, Jogo duro, 281.  Iuri Kler, interview by Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui Soares Porto Rocha (Rio de Janeiro, December, 2015). Acervo pessoal do autor.  See Jenifer Parks, The Olympic Games, the Soviet Sports Bureaucracy, and the Cold War: Red Sport, Red Tape (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2016).  Iuri Kler, interview by Luiz Guilherme Burlamaqui Soares Porto Rocha.

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Spider,” with a medal from the CBD.⁶⁸ The alliance seemed to be going well when the Chile episode erupted. When Alan Tomlinson and John Sugden analyzed the episode of the match between Chile and the Soviet Union, they understood it to be one of the reasons for the political weakening of Rous, who would then have lost the support of the Soviet Union to Havelange.⁶⁹ In practice, however, the episode served to make the Soviet Union neutral. This is because, like Rous, Havelange was firmly committed to attacking the Russians. In this line, the Brazilian military dictatorship had real political weight in the September 11, 1973 coup, and in the stabilization of Pinochet’s government. Today it is well known that the countries’ cooperation provided the know-how for structuring Chile’s apparatus of repression. The Brazilian government, through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, took steps to undermine and weaken the government of Salvador Allende, and very quickly recognized the legitimacy of the government of Augusto Pinochet. In the words of Tanya Harmer, it was the inter-American Cold War, in which regional relations were as important as the relations between the superpowers.⁷⁰ By the same token, Gianfranco Caterina’s study on Brazil-Soviet Union relations sees through the stereotypes. Although the Brazilian elites feared the spread of communism in South America, especially after the Cuban Revolution, the Soviet Union was far from the source of their fear, according to agents and bureaucrats with different perspectives on the matter. Caterina reveals a certain fascination the Brazilian elites had with Soviet communism, be it for its technological development, the taste for technocracy, the demonstration of culture, and even for the state’s role as an inducer of the economy.⁷¹ This broader picture makes Havelange’s appreciation and admiration for Russian political ethics understandable. From this perspective the natural course would have been for Havelange to manage to win the votes of the Iron Curtain and the Soviet Union, yet it was the regional disputes produced and fueled by the Cold War that prevented him from securing this agreement at first. In other words, the situation at the re-

 “O Itamaraty e a CBD,” Boletim da CBD, 1972.  John Sugden and Alan Tomlinson, FIFA and the contest for world football: who rules the people’s game? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1998).  Tanya Harmer, Allende’s Chile and the Inter-American Cold War (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2011). Tanya Harmer, “Brazil’s Cold War in the Southern Cone, 1970 – 1975,” Cold War History 12 (2012): 659.  Gianfranco Caterina, “Um grande oceano: Brasil e União Soviética atravessando a Guerra Fria, 1947– 1985” (PhD diss., Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação de História Contemporânea do Brasil, Fundação Getúlio Vargas, 2019).

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gional level made it imperative for Havelange to position himself in favor of the Chilean government and the Chilean Football Federation. Abilio de Almeida, a member of FIFA’s executive committee and Havelange’s group, together with FIFA’s secretary-general Helmut Käser, were part of the FIFA delegation that traveled to Chile to inspect the national stadium and the conditions in the country. Itamaraty documents disclose how closely the Ministry of Foreign Relations watched Abílio’s trip, given the sensitivity of the subject. In the report delivered to the Executive Committee, Käser and Abílio de Almeida communicated that security was not an issue for the match. The report was a statement of support: Havelange and Abílio needed to stand by the South American federation. The candidacy for the FIFA presidency, as pointed out throughout this thesis, was a plan hatched in South America. The following month, at the 1973 CONMEBOL Congress, it was Havelange’s turn to read a note of repudiation against the Soviet Union in defense of Chile’s interests and of the non-politicization of soccer.⁷² In the 1970s, human rights were regaining ground in mobilizing the international public sphere. FIFA then began to receive several letters from the sporting community about the event. A minority of the letters applauded FIFA’s decision on the basis that it upheld the principle of separation between sport and politics.⁷³ However, the narrative contained in most of the letters – many from Czechoslovakia, Poland, Yugoslavia, Romania, the Netherlands, and an absolute majority from France and Germany – were critical of FIFA’s decisions. Trade unions, social movements and student associations demanded solidarity with the deposed Chilean government and disputed the FIFA leaders’ decision. The tone of the messages in some of the letters was indeed harsh: “The Santiago stadium is not a soccer field but rather the symbol of a massacre. FIFA disgraces soccer lovers.”⁷⁴ Most of those who wrote tended to draw an analogy with the Nazi-fascist regime of the 1930s. In one letter, a French citizen made a point of reminding FIFA that the world of 1973 did not tolerate events like those of 1933 (the year of the rise of Nazism) and compared the Santiago stadium to the concentration camps of Treblinka and Auschwitz. With his Swiss patience, Secretary General Helmut Käser painstakingly replied to most of those who wrote to FIFA demanding further explanations. In one of his replies, Käser let

 “Encontro da América do Sul,” Boletim da CBD August, 1973.  Letters Addressed to Helmut Kaser on the game between Chile and Soviet Union. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Student movement from France letter addressed to Kaser. FIFA (November 12, 1973). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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his opinion about the events shine through, a feeling most likely shared by the FIFA President and his ally and friend, Stanley Rous: FIFA based itself on technical and purely sporting criteria based on the tournament regulations to make a decision on the case. […] As for your comparison, the judgments of public opinion are based, not on verifiable facts, but on the opinion that certain journalists – those who have never set foot on Chilean soil – have published. These facts are refuted by the detainees themselves, as I had the opportunity to see for myself in Santiago. We condemn all acts of violence that can be committed by either the military or the opposition. Only history will judge them – we are too close to the events to do so.⁷⁵

This was the first time that the International Football Federation was faced with a human rights issue. The usual reaction of the bureaucrats was to deny the problem, emphasizing the separation between sport and politics, even though between the lines they would take a political position. In hindsight, it could be said that Rous missed the opportunity re-establish closer relations with the allies of the Soviet Union and the socialist bloc. However, Rous preferred to side with Chile, marching right alongside his rival. Understanding the reasons for his political stance requires an examination of his political ideology, molded by conservativism and credulous in the strict separation of sport and politics, shared by Rous and FIFA secretary-general Helmut Käser. In the words of Quin and Vonnard, the ideology of the separation of sport and politics was not just some fiction, but rather a concrete force that played a major role in organizing the field of sports and sports institutions during the Cold War and led to complex scenarios.⁷⁶ Considering the looming 1974 election and taking the logic of electoral calculation to the extreme, whether Rous could have opted pragmatically remains an open question. Even when looking at the electoral calculation separately, this did not prove to be a simple decision, though. Once again, the regional specificities of the Cold War were responsible for conditioning the decisions and actions of Stanley Rous. Asia – particularly its capitalist entente – was the continent where Rous found his political support base. There, the Asian Football Confederation faced similar problems with North Korea, which often claimed political reasons for not playing matches in foreign countries (refereeing, security, lobbying, etc.).⁷⁷ Israel, Stanley Rous’s major ally, was also a constant target of

 Helmut Käser, Correspondence. (Zürich, January 18, 1974). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Philippe Vonnard and Grégory Quin, “Studying international sports organisations during the Cold War,” Sport in History 37 (2017): 265, doi: 10.1080/17460263.2017.1369149.  Correspondance North Korea with FIFA (1966 – 1973)”. FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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attacks from Arab countries.⁷⁸ Coincidentally, the communist bloc was pushing hard for the expulsion of Taiwan from FIFA, something that most Asian countries refused to accept.⁷⁹ Siding with the Soviet Union would mean setting a legal precedent and would have a direct impact on the ties and alliances with the regional blocs. By all accounts the episode could have had an unexpected and unforeseen consequence for both Rous and Havelange: the creation of a third candidacy, a left-leaning Third Worldist influenced by the Soviet bloc and that would try to unite the African bloc around a socialist candidate. Such a candidacy had been attempted in 1961, however, the political conditions necessary for the rise of a leader organically linked to the Third World within FIFA did not exist then. The landscape in 1974 was radically different, and, had the Soviets understood this correctly, they could have fielded Yugoslavian Executive Committee member Andrejevic again for the FIFA presidency. There was even speculation by the magazine Miroir du Football, linked to the French Communist Party, of Andrejevic as a candidate in February 1974.⁸⁰ Top of mind for the Soviets at the time, however, was ensuring that things remained as they were by keeping their vice presidency of FIFA. Andrejevic would not be able to capture the vote of the Arab and African countries as this had already been negotiated by the Brazilian leader over the previous three years. Faced with this stalemate, the best thing to do was to be pragmatic and abstain in the first round. In the second round, when Havelange’s election seemed to be on the right track, the Russians changed their vote and supported the Brazilian for the FIFA presidency.

Europe in the mirror A continent traditionally divided by centuries-old rivalries, Europe has never acted as a unified and coherent bloc within FIFA, as political, national and linguistic divisions are the distinguishing features of its political action. During the decolonization processes of the 1960s, two European trends can be detected, each of which expressed different views on how FIFA ought to be managed. There was a bit of a learning curve, however, the this set of new countries had to go through to handle with the challenges of politics. In this learning process,  Asian Football Confederation, Minutes (…) Kuwait proposal to expel Israel. 1971. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Chinese Football Association (Taiwan), Correspondance to Stanley Rous (December 10, 1973). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  “Havelange and Rous”, Miroir du Football, May, 1974.

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the role of the Europeans would be precisely to teach them about the new international order, to tutor and protect them and progressively insert them into FIFA. Recognizing this demand, however, implied some degree of economic redistribution to these national associations, in the form of money from economic development programs. On the other hand, there was a radical wing that was against the emergence of the Afro-Asian bloc and did not recognize these political demands as legitimate. This group, on more than one occasion, spoke out against the incorporation of full political rights by the Afro-Asian countries. Weakened by the victory of Stanley Rous, this wing never completely disappeared within FIFA, and resurfaced in the early 1970s with the radicalization of the decolonization processes. In September 1972, the most acerbic expression of this wing came from the president of the Belgian national soccer federation, Louis Wouters. In an interview with the Belgian newspaper Voetball, Wouters did not mince words against the FIFA president, which were later consolidated in a handwritten letter to Stanley Rous. Wouters compared Stanley Rous to Hitler: “Just like Hitler, Stanley Rous holds up a mirror to Europe.” Rous’s stewardship of FIFA would bring about, as had Hitler, an attack on fundamentally European institutions, dividing the continent. The annoyance that Wouters expressed was mainly due to the political and economic power differential within FIFA. While UEFA money bankrolled most of FIFA’s economic costs, political power was equally divided. “It is not possible,” Wouters said: […] for FIFA to accommodate a political system in which both West Germany and Bahrain have the same political weight. How can FIFA pay for the coach of the national team of Côte d’Ivoire, who lives at FIFA’s expense, on a salary paid entirely by FIFA, with a free apartment, without any expenses? FIFA money is invested in the most ridiculous things […].⁸¹

From Wouters’s perspective, this scenario of crisis had only one solution: that UEFA (unable to form a majority) should withdraw from FIFA, break with the entity, and create a new one in 1973. While rejecting the language attributed to the magazine, Wouters did not deny the thrust of his ideas in his personal letter to Stanley Rous. The interview with Wouters was all the more serious because he had a seat on UEFA’s Executive Committee and was an influential member of the continental confederation. Gustav Wiedekher, Swiss, secretary-general of UEFA, hastened to write to Stanley Rous to state that Wouters expressed the minority view within  “Will UEFA leave FIFA? Just like Hitler Sir Rous holds a mirror up to Europe.” Addressed to Executive Committee Members, September 19, 1972.

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UEFA, and that the interview was limited to the Belgian’s personal opinion.⁸² Wiedekher adopted a cautious tone, but Wouters was certainly not the only UEFA member to feel that Rous was working too hard for developing countries. Expressed in his interview, Wouters’ fear was that the more they gave in, the greater the demands of Third World countries would be, and the idea of a tutored pact would lead not to continued stability, but to a revolt on one side (Europe) or the other (the Afro-Asian bloc). Wouters seemed to foresee Havelange’s election, which occurred two years after the interview. Wouters was of the view that the Europeans had nothing to gain by remaining in FIFA, and that the best thing to do was to give FIFA up and build a different, exclusively European path.⁸³ Obviously, Rous did not share Wouters’s worldview when it came to managing FIFA. In contrast to this radical and separatist vision, Rous stressed the strength of the tutored pact. In the public response to Wouters, published in the very Voetball magazine, Rous expressed a different vision, a conception of power that imagined FIFA as a pact between the neediest and the richest associations: Mr. Wouters accuses FIFA of spending the money collected by UEFA on development aid. Now, this is true, not an accusation. However, this is something normal in various fields of our society. In many Western countries, the professionals support the amateurs. It is basically the same thing that happens at FIFA. The rich should help the needy.⁸⁴

In the reply written directly to Wouters, Rous was sharper, and reinforced FIFA’s image as a contract between national associations. Unlike Wouters, who imagined that the Afro-Asian bloc should submit to FIFA’s structure, Rous pointed out that this was a work of continuous persuasion and seduction, emphasizing that monopolization was a historical process. Rather than forcing countries to participate in FIFA, it was necessary to constantly convince them that it was worth participating in the associative game created by the entity.

 Gustav Wiedecker, Correspondance addressed to Stanley Rous. (September 25, 1972). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Louis Wouters, Correspondance addressed to: Stanley Rous (Mechelen, November 16, 1972) One letter. Box: Executive Committee, 1960 – 1972. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Stanley Rous, Correspondence to Gustav Wiedecker. One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.

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FIFA is a contract between associations. How long do you think these associations can be forced to take part in the contract if this contract offers nothing (from a moral, economic or other point of view) to these associations? Is all we have to offer, then, fees and more fees?⁸⁵

Now, the truth is that Stanley Rous’s contractual vision fails to satisfy both terms of the relationship: not only part of the Afro-Asian bloc, but the Europeans, as well. It seems obvious to point out that the radicalized wing of the European continent found it impossible to even conceive of supporting Havelange’s candidacy. Wouters himself admits that: If I oppose FIFA today, it is because I can no longer collaborate with an entity, a power over which the Europeans no longer have any control, and which today dominates us. You (Stanley Rous) are the only guarantee for Europe to have any connection with FIFA.⁸⁶

Given this observation, Wouters most certainly voted for Stanley Rous in the 1974 election. But the non-identification of this radical European group with the Stanley Rous administration made it more difficult to organize a conservative bloc to reject Havelange’s candidacy as a whole and organize a European front against the Third World. Why should anyone defend a government with which they do not completely identify? Moreover, this European vision weakened the authority and political legitimacy of Rous in the public arena, adding to the mounting dissatisfaction with him as president. What this perception makes even more patently clear is that Rous’ most enthusiastic voters were precisely the national associations in Southeast Asia, and no longer those located on the European continent. Adding fuel to the fire, in the early 1970s other European countries – for various reasons – began to support Havelange’s candidacy. The French soccer federation, with its centuries-old rivalry with the English federation, was critical of Stanley Rous’ management and quickly drew closer to Havelange. Besides the fascination of the French for Brazilian soccer, journalists related to him over his perfect command of French and, more objectively, the possibility of using the Brazilian to rekindle friendly ties with the French colonies through a new sports policy that was beginning to take shape in the late 1960s.⁸⁷ Other coun-

 Stanley Rous, Correspondence to Louis Wouters. (Novemver 20, 1972). One letter. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Louis Woters, Correspondence to Stanley Rous. (Mechelen, November 16, 1972) One letter Box: Comitê Executivo. Arquivos da FIFA, 1960 – 1972. FIFA Archives, Zürich.  Pascal Charitas, “Imperialisms in the Olympics of the Colonization in the Postcolonization: Africa into the International Olympic Committee, 1910 – 1965,” The International Journal of the History of Sport 32 (2015): 909, doi: 10.1080/09523367.2015.1027153.

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tries – such as Yugoslavia and Romania – with an eye on a Third World policy, also befriended Havelange.⁸⁸ Compounding the matter, the Republic of Ireland, given its rivalry with England, also supported the Brazilian leader.⁸⁹ The most iconic case, however, is that of the Iberian Peninsula, Portugal and Spain, which at the time were emerging from the Salazar and Franco dictatorships, respectively, seem to have supported the Brazilian leader in the 1974 election. The vote of either country, however, is not conclusive. The ambiguity of their votes most likely illustrates internal tensions from the transformations both countries were undergoing in the early 70s, precisely when they were starting to emerge from long dictatorial regimes. On April 25, 1974, the Carnation Revolution swept over Portugal, ousting the dictatorial regime of Marcello Caetano and triggering the return of democracy. One phot shot in June of that year, shows Havelange surrounded by Portuguese delegates; one can speculate that he received the carnation as a gift. In the political mythology surrounding the Portuguese revolution, the carnation was the symbol offered by the people to the Portuguese soldiers. It is likely that the officials from the Portuguese Football Federation (FPF) repeated the gesture, now iconic since that April in Portugal, handing him a carnation to celebrate his victory. Havelange accepted the gift gladly and quickly made use of the symbol. According to an unidentified newspaper clipping located in his personal archive, the carnation was the very image of the revolution he intended to bring about at FIFA.⁹⁰ The Brazilian military dictatorship provided early support for the Portuguese revolution out of interest in strengthening ties with the Portuguese colonies in Africa.⁹¹ The Carnation Revolution also came with the promise of freedom for the African colonies. The Portuguese state had insisted on being

 Elias Zaccour, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2003 – 2004). Acervo pessoal: Ernesto Rodrigues.  Peter Pullen, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues (Rio de Janeiro, 2003 – 2004). Acervo pessoal: Ernesto Rodrigues.  “Fotografia de João Havelange em meio a delegados portugueses”. Acervo iconográfico de João Havelange, year 1974. One photograph. BOC Archives, Rio de Janeiro.  Jerry Dávila, Hotel Trópico: o Brasil e o desafio da descolonização africana, 1950 – 1980 (São Paulo: Paz e Terra, 2011), especialmente, capítulo 7, “O Brasil e a revolução portuguesa”. Thiago Carvalho “Transição e descolonização. As relações entre Portugal e o Brasil (1974– 1976),” Ler História 63 (2012): 127. Francisco Carlos Palomanes Martinho, “Léguas a nos separar: o que levou o regime militar brasileiro a apoiar um movimento de esquerda como a Revolução dos Cravos em Portugal,” Revista de História da Biblioteca Nacional 42 (2007): 63. Camila Garcia Kieling, “Como se escreve liberdade? Narrativas sobre a revolução de 25 de Abril de 1974 na imprensa brasileira,” Comunicação e Sociedade 34 (2018): 343.

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the last European colonial empire and maintained its African colonies until the first half of the 1970s, when practically all of Africa was independent. Havelange’s symbolic gesture should be read in this context: holding the carnation expressed not only support for democracy in Portugal, but also the strength of the anti-colonial struggle that his administration claimed to represent. In Brazil, verbal accounts, as well as the newspapers available for consultation, reaffirm Portugal’s support for Stanley Rous.⁹² Portugal and England had a long history of good relations, and it is likely that within UEFA the FPF worked in support of Stanley Rous’s candidacy. Nevertheless, Portuguese journalistic sources, especially the sports daily A Bola, seem to have been enthusiastic about Havelange’s candidacy since long before the Carnation Revolution. As soon as Havelange was elected, the newspaper celebrated his victory, emphasizing his Lusophone attributes: “FIFA’s president speaks Portuguese.”⁹³ It is important to point out that in 1972, Portugal accepted Havelange’s invitation and played in the Independence Cup. In the end, however, no conclusions can be drawn about how the FPF voted in 1974. It is very likely that it supported Havelange’s candidacy, but in Brazil, the printed sources reaffirm the Portuguese loyalty to Stanley Rous.⁹⁴ A similar situation occurred in the case of Spain. The printed sources stated that the Spanish federation would vote for Stanley Rous. However, in the interview Pedro Porta, the Spanish representative in Frankfurt, granted to Ernesto Rodrigues, he stressed that he made a point of voting for Havelange and, more than that, of showing his vote to those present at the election. Pedro Porta, who would become one of Havelange’s main European allies at FIFA, said that he refused to follow the express orders sent by the Spanish federation, mainly because he knew that Havelange would win the election and, in this matter, the importance of supporting the winner.⁹⁵ Porta’s calculation proved to be right in the coming years, as he went on to occupy a seat on the Executive Committee, supporting Havelange’s main decisions. One hypothesis is that Pedro Porta’s action represents less a gesture of personal calculation, and reflects the Spanish Football Federation’s internal political disputes, reflecting the imminent fall of Francoism.

 “Por que Havelange quer ser presidente? – A FIFA desinteressada da Taça Independência,” A Bola May 6, 1972.  “O presidente que fala português,” A Bola, July 14, 1974.  Vivaldo Coracy, João Havelange: determinação e coragem (Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1978).  Pedro Porta, interview by Ernesto Rodrigues. Acervo pessoal Ernesto Rodrigues.

Conclusion: a new international football order? I had started my PhD at the University of São Paulo the year before and was visiting the FIFA archives for the first time. It was March 2016, and I was on my first trip to Zurich in Switzerland. Gianni Infantino would become the ninth chairman of FIFA’s history. The city was abuzz with the controversy surrounding the FIFA presidential elections. After eighteen years, Joseph Blatter was stepping down to be replaced by a new head of FIFA. At the entrance to the Hallenstadion, the hockey arena where the extraordinary congress was being held, demonstrators protested with placards while the press waited outside. I watched with the sense that I was witnessing history being made, tying the events into the subject of my dissertation: Havelange’s election as president of FIFA. Less than six months later, Havelange passed away amidst the celebration of the Olympic Games. For a historian, now looks like the appropriate time to get back to where everything started. Amid a major crisis in the organisation, the number of candidates for the position – a record total of five – was a sign of a power vacuum and a clear lack of consensus. Among the candidates were the UEFA General Secretary, Gianni Infantino, the president of the Liberian Football Federation, Musa Bility, the South African businessman Tokyo Sexwale, and the president of the Asian Football Confederation, Sheik Salman bin Ibrahim Al Khalifa. Promising a new FIFA built on the values of transparency, ethics, and anti-corruption, alongside a pledge to increase the number of teams qualifying for the World Cup and to distribute $5 million to FIFA-affiliated national federations every year, the favorite, Infantino, was victorious. In practice, Infantino’s election was also the result of an institutional crisis dating back over the medium term but which the events of 2015 had accelerated. Months earlier, Joseph Blatter, the Swiss president of FIFA, had resigned his position four days after being re-elected by a large majority at the FIFA Congress. Blatter was at the center of an international scandal. After receiving inside information from Chuck Blazer, the USA’s delegate to the Confederation of North, Central America and Caribbean Association Football (CONCACAF), the FBI began a Hollywood-style international persecution of football’s top officials. At the door to the hotel where they were staying, Blatter’s old allies, including Blazer, Nicolas Leoz, and Jeffrey Webb, were arrested by the US police. Despite having been declared president by a significant majority of congress delegates, Blatter had to stand down in the clear aim of preventing the investigations from Note: This conclusion was partially published at Revista Electra, number 17, Lisbon, 2022. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-011

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(further) tarnishing the organisation and preserving at least some of its reputation. It was the end of an era. With Blatter as head of FIFA, it had been transformed from top to bottom. Recruited from Longines, a Swiss watchmaker, and with a background in economics at the Lausanne University, Blatter arrived at FIFA in 1975. As director of FIFA’s Technical Development Programmes, he became a central cog in the system set up by João Havelange, elected in 1974, and quickly rose to the position of general secretary. In fact, it is ironic that Blatter married Barbara Käser, daughter of the former general secretary, in 1981, the same year that he replaced his father-in-law, Helmut Käser, as general secretary. Despite the close family relationship, Blatter was very different to his predecessor. Blatter was Havelange’s confidant whereas in his first few years heading FIFA, Havelange had had disagreements with the general secretary. Furthermore, Käser had been recruited from the legal world, while Blatter had a background in economics and finance. He had come from industry and the world of business. This change was a symptom of the broader transformations in sports.¹ The general secretary of FIFA has a different role to that of the president. While the president is responsible for representing the organisation, the general secretary is responsible for running its day-to-day activities. If the president is what Max Weber describes as a charismatic leader – representing the public face of the organisation – the general secretary is more akin to a bureaucrat. The main responsibility of the general secretary, a paid position unelected by the congress, is to ensure that the by-laws are scrupulously followed. Until Blatter reached the top in 1981, it was notable that virtually every general secretary had had a legal background. Blatter crossed the line – from law to economics – and his rise signaled a change within the FIFA structure. Contrary to the International Olympic Committee and other international sporting bodies, which were avowedly pro-amateur, FIFA embraced professionalism as early as the 1920s. Rather than a political decision, it was born out of pragmatism, bringing every football federation on board, with no distinction between amateurs and professionals. In this context, the World Cup was proclaimed the main global tournament, with no legal distinctions. Nevertheless, it was with the arrival of television that the so-called “spectacularization” of football began. In 1966, FIFA signed a huge contract with the BBC.² In retrospect, the contract was modest compared to the billion-dollar agreements signed in the  Bayle, Emmanuel, and Patrick Clastres. Global Sport Leaders. Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2018.  Chisari, Fabio. “When football went global: Televising the 1966 World Cup.” Historical Social Research/Historische Sozialforschung (2006): 42– 54.

Conclusion: a new international football order?

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1990s, but the arrival of new actors – TV and business interests – and changes to stadium architecture redrew the model of football management. However, for contemporaries, the sum involved was far from modest: it was a sign of FIFA’s exponential growth. This process of the economic growth of football coincided with the processes of decolonization of the African and Asian continents. As FIFA multiplied its budget, the number of affiliated countries grew by similar proportions. While most affiliated nations were European in the 1960s, by 1974 the situation had reversed, with most being non-European. The political result of this change in the composition of the FIFA congress was the election of Havelange as president. The global and political context in 1974 was turbulent. After the so-called Cultural Revolution, the People’s Republic of China was eager to rejoin international bodies. In Africa, the process of decolonization came to an end with the liberation of Portugal’s colonies. It is noteworthy that after his victory (in June 1974), Havelange placed a carnation in his suit lapel to celebrate Portugal’s Revolution of the Carnations. In the same way that the revolution in Portugal brought the promise of the end of colonial empires, Havelange’s symbolic gesture was intended to establish a symmetry between this revolution and his own triumph – the emergence of a new international order in the world of football. Havelange affirmed, in a manifesto that was far from modest, that his main objective was to reduce what he called “football inequality.” In 1977, he summarized his aims to the president of the Cameroon Football Federation: “To establish a new world order in sport and in football where the difference between developed countries and the rest of the world is gradually reduced so that, eventually, the best balance of power, peace and understanding between peoples can be achieved.”³ Politics met economics when the debate began on how to implement this plan. Regardless of FIFA’s healthy finances compared to other sporting organizations, more resources would have to be mobilized to deal with a problem of this size. Standing beside Blatter, responsible for negotiating and mediating contracts, Havelange signed two commercially important agreements – with CocaCola and Adidas. With FIFA sponsorship, Coca-Cola was able to expand into new regions – including Africa, China, the Middle East, and even Eastern Europe – through football. Conversely, FIFA obtained the financial means to implement its bold plans to build a new football order.

 Letter from João Havelange to the Cameroon Football Federation, 11th November, 1977. FIFA archives, Zurich.

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Havelange’s plans were so successful that he was unanimously re-elected president, practically unopposed, for five terms. Under his leadership, FIFA expanded into new territories. The holding of the World Cup in the USA in 1994 signified an expansion into FIFA’s final frontier. In the USA, where the alliance between sport and the market had developed very quickly, FIFA established itself as a global organisation. In 1998, Havelange stood down, acknowledged as its greatest ever president. The World Cup, at which only 16 teams had competed in 1970, had been expanded to 32. In 1998, when he left FIFA, Havelange was given a standing ovation by the Paris congress. He successfully designated Blatter as his successor, who was subsequently elected, defeating Lennart Johansson, the UEFA candidate, thanks to the same networks that had kept Havelange in power. It was these old friends of his who gave their support to Blatter: the representatives of Central America, Africa, Asia, and South America. Blatter also relied on the votes of the new Eastern European countries that emerged from the Soviet Union. The collapse of the communist bloc in dozens of countries meant consistent support for the general secretary. It was precisely these old allies that would be indicted by the American government. Under Blatter, FIFA’s expansion plans advanced rapidly. In 2002, the World Cup was held for the first time in Asia – in Japan and South Korea. From 2010, FIFA’s diplomacy ran in parallel with the creation of BRICS (a bloc created in 2011 consisting of Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa in an attempt to provide an international alternative to the European Union and the USA). In the short period from 2007 to 2018, various sporting megaevents were held in these countries, including, to name only FIFA tournaments, the Men’s Football World Cup in South Africa (2010), Brazil (2014) and Russia (2018), the Women’s Football World Cup in China (2017), and other tournaments such as the Under-17 World Cup in India in 2017. The network assembled by Havelange and Blatter remained politically and economically solid until accusations of fraud in 2015. From that moment onwards, the axis of power in FIFA clearly changed, with greater European and American representation. Once Infantino came to power, he targeted the symbols they had built. The Confederations Cup created by the preceding administration was rapidly dissolved. In legal terms, FIFA also sued its former members in the aim of reclaiming embezzled funds. Blatter was forced into political exile, withdrawing to his home in Switzerland and rarely giving interviews. Havelange died in June 2016, just before the Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games. The news was given little coverage in the media. FIFA merely included a note on its website, and left it at that. It appeared to be time to turn the page.

Annex: honors received by Havelange between August 1970 and July 1974 Association

Award (year)

State – Portugal State – Portugal

Knight of Sports () Commander of the Order of Prince Dom Henrique () Grand Officer of the Order of Instruction of Portugal Peacemaker Medal () Medal of Merit () Carioca Fencing Medal of Merit Knight’s Merit Labor Justice ()

State – Portugal Brazil – Army Brazilian Olympic Committee Carioca Fencing Federation Knight’s Merit Commander of the Order of Merit for Labor Justice Officer of the Order of Merit for Labor Justice Flamengo Regatta Club Fluminense Football Club Association of Football Fishing Clubs Metropolitan Rowing Federation Sports Federation of Brasilia Sports Writers Association of Guanabara (ACEG, in Portuguese) Brazilian Sports Confederation French Sports Academy Pernambuco Cycling Federation Metropolitan Fencing Federation Mato Grosso State Government Paulista Rowing Federation Piauí Sports Federation International Association for the Study of Sport (Argentina) University Sports Federation of Guanabara América de Propiá Sports Club Bahia Sports Club

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-012

Labor Justice () Flamengo Member Emeritus () Honorary President and Grand Honorary Member () Honorary President of the Argentine Fishing Club Honorary Patron of the Metropolitan Rowing Federation Honorary Patron of the Sports Federation of Brasília Honorary Patron of the Sports Writers Association of Guanabara Grand Honorary Member of the CBD () Member Honoris Causa of the French Sports Academy () Honorary Member of the Pernambuco Cycling Federation, State of Pernambuco Honorary Member of the Metropolitan Fencing Federation, State of Rio de Janeiro Honorary Citizen of Sports of Mato Grosso Honorary member of the Paulista Rowing Federation, State of São Paulo Honorary member of the Piauí Sports Federation, State of Piauí Honorary member of the International Association for the Study of Sport (Argentina) Honorary member of the Guanabara University Sports Federation () Honorary member of América de Propiá, State of Sergipe Member emeritus of Bahia ()

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Annex: honors received by Havelange between August 1970 and July 1974

Continued Association

Award (year)

Maranhão Sports Federation

Honorary member of the Maranhão Sports Federation () Rio de Janeiro Photojournalist Associa- Honorary member of the Rio de Janeiro Photojournaltion ist Association Campo Grande City Hall Citizen of Campo Grande, State of Mato Grosso Visconde de Rio Branco City Council Citizen of Visconde do Rio Branco, State of Minas Gerais Cabedello City Council Citizen of Cabedello, State of Paraíba City Council of the City of Aracaju Citizen of Aracaju () City Council of the City of Petrópolis Citizen of Petrópolis, State of Rio de Janeiro City Council of the City of Teresópolis Honorary Citizen of Teresópolis, State of Rio de Janeiro City Council of the City of Dourado Citizen of Dourado, State of Mato Grosso City Council of the City of Uberaba Citizen of Uberaba, State of Minas Gerais City Council of the City of Goiás Citizen of Goiás, State of Rio de Janeiro Order of Merit of Labor Brotherhood of Our Lady of the ConEmeritus Brother of the Military Parish Church (Reliception of Clubs gious Association) City Council of São Bento do Sul Honorable Mention National Congress of Sports Medicine Member Honoris Causa of the rd World Congress of Sports Medicine (Buenos Aires) City Council of Campina Grande Medal of Merit Confederation of National Trade Unions “Muscat of the Year” Source: João Havelange’s FIFA candidacy brochure. International Olympic Committee Archives, Lausanne.

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Index ABC de Natal 157, 160 Abkhazia 194 A Bola 80 f., 218 Accra 158 Adidas 150 f., 221 AERP (Agência Especial de Relacoes Publicas) 121 AFC – Asian Football Confederation 4, 46, 161, 199 f. Africa 4, 14, 19, 23, 25, 28, 33, 36 f., 40 – 42, 45 – 47, 49, 51, 53, 55 – 59, 61, 63 f., 69 f., 83, 105, 133, 146, 150, 152, 155 – 161, 163 – 168, 173, 175 – 177, 179 f., 183 f., 186 f., 192, 197, 199, 207, 213, 216 – 218, 221 f. African Confederation 159 African Football 26, 166, 184, 206 Afro-Asian 31 f., 37, 40 f., 49, 51, 61, 67, 113, 145 f., 180, 185, 187, 189, 214 – 216 Ahmed Touny 166 f. Alain Fontain 133 f. Alan Tomlinson 5, 28, 192, 207, 210 Albania 36, 38, 50, 198 Alf Ramsey 58, 69 Algeria 36, 38, 150, 159, 179, 198, 206 Amateurism 6, 32, 80, 88 Amazonas 163 America Football Club 201 Anachronism 6, 28 Andrew Jennings 5, 189 Anglo-Saxon 94, 182 Angra dos Reis Nuclear Power Plant 172 Antonio Sotomayor 23 Apartheid 21, 28, 40 f., 58, 70, 179 – 181, 183, 192, 199 Arab bloc 46, 70, 184, 192 Arabic 17, 150, 159 Aracaju 138, 169, 172, 174, 176, 224 ARENA (Aliança Renovadora Nacional) 108 Argentina 21, 38 f., 58 f., 61 f., 65 – 67, 86, 89, 107, 110, 114, 138, 155, 223 Arnaldo Guinle 79 f. Arrudão 175 https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110759907-014

Arsenal 52, 200 Arthur Drewry 35, 44 Asia 4, 7, 19, 25, 33, 36 – 38, 40, 42, 45 – 47, 49, 51, 53, 55 – 59, 146, 157, 159, 161, 163, 167, 173, 175 – 177, 185 – 187, 192, 197, 199 f., 203 f., 207, 212 f., 219, 221 f. Augusto Pinochet 190, 205, 210 A Última Luta 156 Auschwitz 211 Austria 89, 156, 179 Avenida Rio Branco 137 Avery Brundage 4, 32, 36, 41 Azeredo da Silveira 148, 201 f. Bahia 177, 184, 223 Banco do Estado da Guanabara 118, 126, 138 Banco Predial 117 Bandung Conference 36 f. Bangu 84 f., 126 Batistão 138, 172, 175 Beira-Rio 174 f. Belém 174 Belgrad Conference 45, 48 Bellini Cunha 24, 108, 116 – 118, 124 f., 127 – 129, 143 Belo Horizonte 77, 125, 167 – 169, 174, 176, 190 Berlin 56, 58, 73, 90 f. Berlin Wall 44 Biographies 73 f., 81 Biography 11, 24, 73, 75, 78, 91 f., 94, 117, 130, 142 Black Power 5 f., 182, 189 Borg Lantz 152 Brasília 24, 72, 95 f., 140, 142, 169 – 171, 174, 190, 202, 204, 223 Brazil Great Power 172, 174 Brazilian coffee 201 Brazilian Congress 190 Brazilian Miracle 12, 23, 25, 145, 148, 150, 167, 175, 184

238

Index

British Africa 29 British Empire 29, 32 f., 54, 70 Cambodia 39, 41 f., 50, 199 Campeonato Sul-Americano de Futebol 147 Campo Grande 138, 169, 172, 174 – 176, 224 Candido Mendes 97 Cape Town 179 Captain Fernando 159 Caribbean 4, 23, 29, 97, 161, 187, 219 Carioca 79, 102, 123, 129, 223 Carlo Ginzburg 73 f. Carlos Alberto 13, 118, 126 Carlos Alberto Parreira 115, 133, 136, 149, 165 Carlos Alberto Pinheiro 135, 143 Carlos Eduardo Sarmento 24, 73, 76, 103, 111, 114 Carlos Lacerda 122 Carnation Revolution 26, 190, 217 f. Caroline Patrie 63 Castelão 175 Catalonia 194 CBD Bulletin 135 f., 138, 141, 145, 170, 176 CBD – Confederação Brasileira de Desportos 12 f., 62, 67, 75, 84, 91 f., 101 f., 104, 110, 112 – 115, 119 – 121, 123 f., 128, 132 f., 135 – 143, 145 – 150, 153, 156 – 158, 164 f., 167 – 170, 172 – 179, 184, 190 f., 203, 207, 209 – 211, 223 Christian Lynch 171 civil society 23, 25, 33, 35, 37, 39, 67, 75, 77, 94, 96 f., 108 f., 117, 121 f., 126 f., 131, 137 f., 140, 143, 145, 165 f., 172, 185 Clifford Geertz 3 Clube de Regatas Flamengo 78 Coca-Cola 4, 14, 149 f., 221 Cold War 3, 19 – 21, 23, 25 f., 31, 34 f., 42, 45, 52, 58, 87, 91, 153 f., 192 f., 197, 199, 208 – 210, 212 colonial 1, 3, 28, 33, 41, 45, 47, 59 f., 170, 218, 221 Commonwealth 33 f., 40, 53, 63 – 65, 71, 201 Communism, Communist 34, 130, 210 Communist Party 31, 39, 67, 213

CONCACAF 18, 177, 219 Confederation 2, 12 – 14, 18, 23, 26, 44 – 47, 55, 59 f., 62, 68, 95, 97 f., 105, 112, 115, 119, 131, 139, 143, 146, 156 f., 166, 168, 177, 180, 183 f., 191, 194, 199 f., 206, 208, 212 – 214, 219, 222 – 224 CONIFA 194 CONMEBOL 18, 23, 60 – 62, 64, 140, 206, 211 Copa América 79 COSENA – National Selection Comission 114 – 116 coup, military coup 20, 26, 42, 96, 108, 112, 115, 127, 130, 140, 156, 190, 205 – 207, 210 CPDOC 3, 20, 73, 76, 79, 84, 100, 111, 148 Cricket 33, 78, 87 Cuba 20, 23, 30, 34, 39 f., 50, 184, 198, 205 f., 210 Cultural Revolution 30, 42, 196 – 198, 221 Curitiba 172, 174, 176 Czechoslovakia 39, 206, 211 Daniela Alfonsi 24, 73, 76, 84, 100, 111 Daniel Aarão Reis 108, 119 f. David Goldblatt 6, 28 Decolonization 3, 21, 30, 32 – 34, 36 f., 43, 45 f., 50, 57, 70, 146, 157, 164, 186, 208, 213 f., 221 Dennis Follows 64 Departamento Autônomo 157 Detmar Cramer 56 f. Deutsch Bank 130 Development 4, 7, 14 – 16, 23, 25 f., 31, 42, 53, 55 – 57, 61, 67, 72, 78, 94 – 100, 102, 107, 112, 124, 137, 146 – 149, 162 – 167, 169, 171 f., 181 – 183, 193, 200, 210, 214 f., 220 Dinamo Moscow 153 Domingos da Guia 85 Economic Miracle 105, 107, 164 f., 171 f. Edgar Queiroz 105 Eduardo Galeano 59, 66 Egypt 36 f., 49, 56, 168, 180, 198 Eletrobrás 179

Index

Elias Zaccour 1, 26, 113, 150, 152, 156 – 160, 162, 187, 192, 217 Emílio Garrastazu Médici 139, 171 Ernesto Geisel 201 Ernesto Rodrigues 11, 24, 59, 83, 92, 134, 143, 147, 149 – 152, 156 f., 159 f., 162, 187, 189, 192 f., 208 f., 217 f. Ernst Thommen 45 f., 51, 61 Espírito Santo 156 Estado Novo 92 – 95 Ethiopia 49, 54, 56 f., 69, 159, 168, 206 Euro-American 19 Eurocentrism 6, 194 Europe 1, 3 f., 10, 15 f., 19, 21, 25, 27, 29, 33, 40, 45 f., 48, 51 – 53, 57 – 61, 63, 67, 71, 76 f., 79, 88 f., 111, 113, 136, 149, 152 – 154, 157, 173, 175 f., 179, 182 – 187, 191, 197, 208, 213 – 216, 221 European Broadcast Union 62 European Football 5, 10, 27, 51 f., 60 European Super League 193 Executive Committee 1, 6, 11, 13 – 15, 35 f., 45, 49 f., 52, 61, 139, 149, 157, 168, 176, 194, 196, 198, 200, 211, 213 – 215, 218 Extraordinary Congress 43 f., 49 – 52, 219 Faculdade Nacional 116 Fair play 54, 66, 71, 80 f., 83 FASA (Football Association of South Africa) 53, 180 f. FBI – Federal bUREAU OF iNVESTIGATION 11, 219 FIFA bulletin 43, 51, 174 FIFA Congress 35, 49, 69, 88, 155, 187 f., 191 f., 202 f., 219, 221 FIFA Development Committee 15, 31, 56, 208 FIFA Development Program 7 FIFA – Federation Internationale de Football Association 1 – 7, 9 – 19, 21, 23 – 32, 34 – 36, 38, 40 – 63, 65 – 67, 69 f., 73 – 75, 77, 82, 84 f., 87 – 89, 91, 95, 98 f., 101, 109 – 111, 113, 132 – 135, 137 f., 140 – 151, 153, 155 – 165, 167 – 171, 173, 176 – 187, 189 – 222, 224 FIFA News 7, 54, 57, 65, 149, 158 f., 161, 166, 173 f., 181, 183 f., 195, 206 f. FIFA referees Committee 58

239

FIFA Statutes Reform Committee 47 Floresta Club 83 Football Association 1, 11, 14, 16 f., 27, 29, 35 f., 43 f., 47 – 57, 61, 64, 69, 77, 88, 90, 155, 161, 180, 189, 193 – 198, 200 f., 206, 208, 213 France 8, 22, 30, 33, 39, 89, 132 f., 136, 138, 148, 151, 156, 177, 191, 209, 211 France Football 58, 82 f., 132 – 134, 145, 151, 164, 169, 176 f., 184 Francisco Laport 143 Francisco Negrão de Lima 141, 180 Francoism 218 Francophone 56 Francophone Africa 63 f., 177 Frankfurt Congress 17, 135, 142 f., 161, 163, 203 Frantz Fanon 45 French Africa 30, 63, 192 Fundo de Investimento Ney Carvalho 138 Furnas 96, 168 f., 171, 174 Gabriel Hanot 132, 151 Gamal Abdel Nasser 166 GANEFO 25, 29 – 31, 37 – 42, 146, 166 f., 180, 194 Gay Olympics (Gay Games) 194 General Electric 149 General Mustafa 168 Georges Duby 1, 8 f., 172 Georgia 194 Georgia Cervin 195 Geraldo Labart Lebre 141 German Football Association 195 Germany 8, 15, 31, 39, 50, 55, 59, 87, 90, 149, 156, 177, 211 Ghana 37, 45, 49, 156 – 158 Gilbert Joseph 20 Gilberto Coutinho Paranhos Velloso 203 Gilberto Freire 182 Giulite Coutinho 105, 122, 201 Globalization 151, 185 f. globalizing sport 151 Globo 11, 120 f., 135 golf 83, 86 Greenland 194 Gregory Quin 23, 87, 124

240

Index

Guadalajara 6, 147, 155 Guerreiro Ramos 97 Guillermo Cañedo 16, 140, 147 Guinea 39, 53, 198 Gunnar Goransson 152 Gunther Furrer 14 Gustavo Capanema 93 Gustav Wiedekher 214

Isaac Amar 143 ISEB 96 – 98, 170 f. Israel 4, 38, 46, 117, 192, 200, 212 f. Itaipu 105, 172 Italy 7, 31 f., 39, 53, 55, 63 f., 89, 177, 179 Itamaraty 24, 26, 71, 135 f., 142 f., 148, 170, 202 – 204, 210 f. Iuri Kler 24, 148 f., 209

Haiti 50, 177 Harold Thompson 69 Heather Ditcher 21, 48 Hélio Rodrigues 159 Helmut Käser 1, 3, 14 f., 36, 45, 53, 153, 165, 168 f., 195, 197 – 200, 206, 211 f., 220 Helsinki 73, 91, 95 Henry Banks 189 Herman Abbs 130 Higher Institute of Brazilian Studies (ISEB) 96, 170 Holland 39 Honório Peçanha 105 human rights 71, 164, 181, 211 f.

Jacques Ferran 133 Jairzinho 107 James McGuire 53, 181 Japan 38, 43, 101, 148, 197, 200, 222 Japanese 38, 46, 56, 77, 148, 152, 198 Jarbas Passarinho 106, 141, 143, 170 Jean Claude Ganga 41 Jessé pinto Freire 129 Jeune Afrique 63 João Havelange 1 – 3, 7, 10 – 12, 15 – 18, 21, 23 – 27, 40, 60 f., 67 f., 70, 73 – 76, 78, 81, 83 f., 90 – 92, 98, 100, 102 f., 106, 108, 111 f., 116, 119, 121, 126, 128, 131, 133 – 135, 137, 139, 142 f., 145 – 149, 151, 156 f., 159 f., 162 – 165, 167 – 170, 173 f., 176, 180, 182 – 185, 191, 202 – 205, 207 f., 217 f., 220 f., 224 João Lyra Filho 14, 159, 203 João Pinheiro 141 f. João Saldanha 114, 120, 128 f., 136 Johnny Weissmuler 89 Jorge Geyer 105 José Bonifácio de Abreu Amorim 105 José da Gama, “Zé da Gama” 24, 152 f., 156 José Ermírio de Moraes 125, 141, 160 Joseph Blatter 11, 14, 17 f., 155, 162, 219 Juca Kfouri 5, 189 Jurgen Osterhammel 164 Juscelino Kubitschek 95 f., 170, 180 J. W. A. Shakespeare 67 f.

IAAF (International Amateur Athletic Federation) 32, 70 Independence Cup 26, 133, 135, 140, 147, 163, 169, 175, 177 f., 190, 209, 218 India 29, 33, 36, 38, 50, 54, 164, 180, 222 Indonesia 25, 30, 37 – 40, 42, 45, 49, 194 International 1, 3 f., 6 f., 11, 14, 16 – 25, 27 – 40, 42 – 45, 47 – 52, 54 – 56, 58 f., 61, 63 – 65, 68 – 71, 73, 87 f., 96, 98 f., 101, 105, 110, 113 – 116, 123, 130, 132 – 134, 137 f., 140, 143, 145 – 147, 149, 151, 153 – 155, 157, 160 – 164, 166, 168 f., 173, 175 f., 179, 181, 185 f., 189 f., 194 – 200, 205 f., 208 f., 211 f., 214, 216, 219 – 224 International Sports Leisure 189 IOC – International Olympic Committee 4, 6, 18, 29, 32, 34, 36, 38 – 42, 70, 79, 87, 89, 137, 146, 158, 167, 169 f., 180, 189, 194, 209 Iran 177 Ireland 55, 179, 217 Iron Curtain 153 f., 195, 207, 210

Kenya 54, 158, 180 Kurdistan 194 Kuwait 158, 162, 198, 202, 213 Ladislau 84 f. Lamartine da Costa

115

Index

Latin America 15, 19 – 23, 58 f., 61, 63 – 70, 97, 165, 180, 184, 197 Latin American 19 f., 23, 32, 37, 40, 46, 58, 60 f., 63 – 68, 99, 146 f., 180, 207 Lenin Stadium 205 Liberia 156, 219 Libya 156, 161 Light 15, 71, 75, 126, 138, 149, 203, 206 Lima 63, 76, 141, 168 london 12, 19, 24, 28 f., 33 f., 38, 40 f., 43 f., 49 f., 52 – 57, 62 – 66, 68 f., 71, 148, 156, 161, 168, 173, 179, 194, 196, 198, 200 Lord David Burghley, Marquis of Exeter 32 Louis Wouters 214 – 216 Ludopédio 149 Lula, Luís Inácio “Lula” da Silva 18 Madureira 152 f. Malasyia 45 Mali 39, 198 Managua 63, 204 Manaus 167 – 169, 172, 176 Maoist 31, 42 Mao Zedong 34 Marc Bloch 8 f., 100 Marcello Caetano 217 Marcel Mauss 139 Mario Jorge Lobo Zagallo 107 Martha Kaplan 186 Mascate Prize 106 Mato Grosso 138, 223 f. M. de Freitas 149 Médici 17, 107 f., 120, 122, 134, 139 f., 178 Melbourne 95, 101 Memory 12, 18, 27 f., 80, 120, 127, 131, 185 Mexico 4, 6, 22, 25, 39, 68 f., 71, 107 f., 115, 118, 124, 127 – 130, 135 f., 141 f., 146 f., 149, 164, 178, 195 f., 203 Mexico City 22, 61, 63, 69, 146 Mexico Plan 108, 124 Michel de Certeau 9 Middle East 4, 19, 105, 152, 156 f., 159, 183, 221 Mihailo Andrejevic 48, 52 Mineirão Stadium 143 Minicopa 175 f.

241

Ministry of Education and Culture 97, 143, 178 Miroir du Football 49, 213 Mobuto Sese Seko 158, 166 Mongolia 187 Monopoly 25, 33, 41, 51, 85 f., 186, 193 Morumbi 174, 184 Mozambique 157 Narrative 3, 5 f., 8, 19, 24, 27, 59 f., 81, 104, 110, 121 f., 132 – 135, 150, 163, 169, 211 NASA 136 Natal 169, 172, 176 National Trade Confederation 172 NATO 183 Nelson Rodrigues 66, 110, 120 f., 124 Nelson Werneck Sodré 97 Netherlands 39, 71, 87, 206, 211 New Zealand 54, 156 Ney Carvalho 126, 138, 143, 149 Nicolas Leoz 219 Niterói 86, 94, 109, 190 Non-Aligned Movement 37, 45, 48 North Africa 157, 159, 179, 198 North of Africa 157 Oceania 7, 60, 176, 187, 203 O Cruzeiro 61, 111 – 113, 135 Odd Arne Westad 19, 34, 193 Olaria 153 Oliveira Vianna 94 Olympic Charter 39 Olympic Congress 28 Oman 105, 162 Oral Sources 147 Otorino Barassi 61 Pakistan 36, 39, 198 Paris Congress 48, 87, 222 Pascal Charitas 33, 216 Paul Darby 28, 146, 179 Paul Dietschy 85, 88 f., 186, 207 Paulo Coelho 18 Paulo Costa 148 Paulo Godoy 14 f., 59, 98, 105 f.

242

Index

Paulo Machado de Carvalho, Paulo Machado de Carvalho Plan 102 f., 112 – 114 Pedro McGregor 119 Pedro Porta 218 Pelé 13, 25, 59, 93, 105, 107, 120, 133 f., 157, 174 Peter Laslett 6 Peter Pullen 2 f., 59, 148 f., 159, 173 f., 187, 189, 193, 202, 217 Petrobrás 179 Phillipe Vonnard 22, 60 Pierre Bourdieu 70, 74, 80, 202 Pierre de Coubertin 32, 39 Popular Unity 205 Porto Alegre 86, 125, 169 f., 172, 174, 176 Portugal 26, 59, 110, 138, 149, 177, 190 f., 217 f., 221, 223 Portuguesa Santista 179 Portuguese Football Federation 191, 217 PSD – Partido Social Democrata 99 f. PTB – Partido Trabalhista Brasileiro 99 Rafael de Almeida Magalhães 122 Raoul Mollet 115, 124 f. Real Accra 157 Recife 125, 168 f., 172, 174, 176 Reinaldo da Gama 24, 152 Rei Pelé 172, 174 Ricardo Serran 135, 143, 159 Ricardo Teixeira 18 Rio de Janeiro 1, 3, 8 – 10, 12 f., 15, 18, 24, 27 f., 30, 45, 59 f., 62 – 64, 67 f., 70, 73 – 81, 83 – 86, 91 – 93, 95 f., 99 – 103, 105, 107 – 111, 113 f., 116 f., 119 – 123, 125 f., 128 f., 131 f., 134, 139 – 143, 145 – 149, 151 – 154, 156 f., 159 f., 162, 165 – 168, 170 f., 173 f., 176 f., 179 f., 182 f., 185, 189, 192 f., 201, 206, 208 f., 217 f., 222 – 224 Rio Grande 53, 163 Rio-Niterói Bridge 172 Roberto Campos 117 Roland Corbisier 171 Romania 39, 159 f., 192, 198, 206, 211, 217 Rubens Mattos 141 Russian 42, 53, 152, 207 – 210, 213

Salvador 50, 63, 169, 174, 176, 184 Salvador Allende 210 Santiago 63, 205 f., 211 f. São Cristóvão 157 São Miguel 156 São Paulo 3, 5, 8, 17, 58 f., 63, 66, 69, 74, 76, 79 – 81, 83 f., 86, 93 – 98, 100 – 102, 107, 109 f., 114, 125, 134, 139, 143, 145 f., 151, 160, 163, 169, 172, 174 – 176, 180, 182 – 184, 193, 202, 217, 219, 223 Scotland 177, 179, 209 Senegal 45, 156 Sino-Soviet 42 Siseno Sarmento 120, 125, 141 f. SNI – Serviço Nacional de Informação 113 Soccer 1, 3, 5, 13, 16, 19, 22 f., 25, 28 f., 31, 33, 35, 42 – 44, 46, 51 – 56, 58 – 62, 65 – 67, 69, 71, 75, 77, 79 f., 83 – 89, 94, 102, 104, 107, 111 f., 114, 118 f., 121 – 125, 127 f., 131 – 133, 136 f., 139, 143, 145, 147 – 153, 155 – 160, 162 – 164, 166 – 168, 172 f., 175, 177, 179 – 181, 183 f., 186 f., 189, 193 – 199, 201, 206 – 208, 211, 214, 216 Somalia 39, 160 f., 198 Sources 3, 7, 24, 73, 94, 98, 129, 147, 149, 151, 179, 190 f., 218 South Africa 4, 21, 28, 40, 42, 53 f., 57, 146, 159, 179 f., 183 f., 196, 219, 222 South America 4, 21 – 23, 31 f., 45 f., 48 f., 51, 53, 58 – 68, 75 f., 79, 84, 89, 110 f., 113 f., 132, 137, 145, 147, 155, 161, 168, 173, 176 f., 180, 182, 184 – 187, 191, 207 – 211, 222 Southeast Asia 29, 54, 56 f., 60, 200, 216 Soviet Union 19 f., 34 – 36, 39 – 41, 45, 48, 51 – 53, 61, 91, 177, 179, 185, 193, 197 f., 205 – 213, 222 Spain 32, 89, 191, 217 f. Spartak Moscow 153 Sport 2, 4, 6 f., 11 – 14, 16 – 23, 25, 27 – 36, 38 – 43, 46 – 48, 52, 54, 58 – 61, 64, 66, 69 – 71, 75, 77, 80 – 95, 100 – 104, 107, 112 – 115, 118, 120, 122 – 124, 126 f., 131, 133 – 139, 143, 145 – 151, 154, 156, 163, 165 – 168, 173, 175, 178 – 181, 186,

Index

194 f., 197 – 202, 204 f., 207 – 209, 211 f., 216, 218, 220 – 224 Sporting Institutions 29, 32, 34, 36 f., 41, 179 f., 196 f. Stanley Rous 1, 3 – 7, 12, 28 f., 32, 36, 41 – 44, 46, 51 – 53, 55 – 60, 63, 65 – 67, 69 f., 90, 110 f., 135, 137, 140, 151, 167 f., 172, 179, 181, 183 f., 187, 189, 191 f., 198, 200 f., 204 – 207, 212 – 216, 218 Subandrio 39 Subjects 20, 74, 107 Sudan 49 f., 54, 56 Sukarno 37 f., 42 Sweden 87, 102, 132, 152, 179 Switzerland 32, 206, 219, 222 Sydney 135, 148 Sylvio Pacheco 100 f., 137, 164 f. Taiwan 34 f., 38, 198 f., 201 f., 204, 213 Taiwan Strait 34 Tanya Harmer 19 f., 210 Tanzania 53 f., 56, 160, 197 f. Tartarugão 175 Techinical Development Committee 56 Technocrat 134 The Brazilian Coffee Institut 149 Third World 7, 16, 25, 30 f., 37, 39 f., 45 f., 48 f., 51, 53, 67, 113, 137, 139 f., 146, 166 f., 183 f., 189, 193, 197, 208, 213, 215 – 217 Tostão 5, 107 Trade Union 37, 105, 138, 211, 224 transnational 3, 5, 38, 60, 99, 130 Treblinka 211 Três Marias 96, 168 Tunisia 39, 179 Turkey 156, 160 UDN – União Democrático Nacional UEFA Champions League 56 UEFA Cup 71

99

243

UEFA – United European Football Association 4, 23, 27, 47, 51 f., 60, 81, 159, 206, 214 f., 218 f., 222 Uganda 50, 54, 158, 160 União dos Bancos Brasileiros 116 United Arab Republic 41 United Kingdom, UK 22, 24, 33, 41, 43, 53, 63 – 66, 68 f., 200 f., 208 United States 15 f., 19 f., 22, 29 f., 34, 39, 45, 52 – 54, 60, 69, 89, 136, 181 – 183, 197 USA – United States of America 16 f., 181, 190, 192, 219, 222 US model 165 Valentin Suarez 65 Vargas Netto 13, 25, 134 Vasco da Gama 85, 157 Venezuela 50, 119, 136 Vivaldo Coaracy 12, 145, 160, 182 Vladimir Granatkin 35, 48, 52 Wadih Helu 143 Wagner Xavier de Camargo 194 Walter Benjamin 27 f. Walter Moreira Salles 116, 123 f., 126, 128 f., 131 Warsaw Pact 184 Werner Pisch 149 West Africa 157, 160, 164 West Germany 142, 179, 214 Working Class 109 World Cup 6, 10 f., 15 – 18, 22, 24 f., 27, 31 f., 50, 57 – 59, 61 – 66, 68, 71, 81, 87, 93, 102, 104 – 115, 118 – 120, 122 – 125, 128, 131 f., 134, 136 f., 140, 142, 146 f., 151 f., 156, 159, 165, 167 f., 171, 174 – 176, 179, 194, 196, 199, 205 – 208, 219 f., 222 World Cup Organizing 15, 147, 168, 206, 208