UEFA Negligence, Police Ineptitude, and Hooliganism – An Eyewitness Account of How Disorder Marred England vs Russia

In the days leading up to France’s inaugural game of Euro 2016 the BBC aired Thierry Henry’s compelling documentary “My France, My Euros.” The programme’s leitmotif, interspersed by clips of John Jensen’s winning goal against Germany and David Trezeguet’s golden goal at Euro 2000, was that Football and the European Championships bring people together. The events in Marseille on the opening weekend of the tournament however, only managed to drive people further apart.  

When emerging from Marseille’s Vieux Port metro station, the giant yachts at the bay initially blocked the sun which beat down on the still sea. On that Friday afternoon, scores of England fans walked towards The Queen Victoria pub on the waterfront to join in with songs which reverberated through the streets. One of which lauded Jamie Vardy, English football’s most recent diamond to be unearthed from the rough. The supporters continued to sing merrily and enthusiastically discuss our chances in the tournament. This was an ambiance which, had it been created by fans who follow a country other than England, would be praised as a “carnival atmosphere.” Football’s coming home.

Almost as if emerging from the sea where the boats slowly swayed, rows of local police officers holding shields aloft gradually crept towards the English. The fear and anxiety was palpable, both in the body language of the fans and of the police who appeared to have never operated on a match of this scale. The police’s decision to mobilise was purely in response to the English singing boisterously and intermittently encroaching the road which slowed down traffic. This did not warrant the method of intimidation used by the French police.

In moments of intimidation like these it is human nature to fight or flee. Inevitably, a few chose to fight and bottles flew towards the protective shields. Almost immediately, a large canister of tear gas was thrown into the crowd. As the smoke billowed through the air, people scarpered down the alleyways. For the following half an hour, men with crimson eyelids scurried through the Old Port’s side streets. The sound of men spluttering uncontrollably was always in earshot. This was certainly not a faction of England fans who had come to cause trouble. At this time, the very small groups of Russian fans shouting and gesturing were the least of our concerns.

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In contrast, the disturbances were caused by English thugs opposite the Ibis hotel on Friday evening. Bottles were spontaneously thrown at the police for a prolonged period. Upon returning from the fan zone at Prado beach after the hosts’ 2-1 victory over Romania, it was clear that this had been the catalyst for the groups of Marseille thugs who roamed the streets searching for the troublemakers. They spouted vitriol towards any fan in an England shirt. On Saturday morning, L’Equipe wrote of ‘Les Hooligans.’ Yet again, the reputation of the majority had been tarnished by the actions of the minority. The legend of the English football hooligan had been perpetuated.

Incidentally, this was my very first England game. While I was surprised by the level of disorder I was far from overwhelmed and certainly wasn’t deterred from attending the game. First of all, I had read about the discordance between England and Marseille thugs during England’s opening group game against Tunisia at the 1998 World Cup. Secondly, I too had only read about England fans abroad. ‘A lot of them live for this, don’t they?” I thought, “The thrill, the rush of a fleeting altercation abroad.’ If only I had known how the dynamics would change the following day.

A pizza at the port was swiftly followed by a beer at the bay. As the minutes dragged by in anticipation of the big kick-off, many warmed up their vocal chords, reciting the national anthem whilst one fan waved a life-size cardboard cut-out of her majesty the Queen in the air. Others took a brief dip in the harbour. Whilst walking out of Beau Rivage, a pub along Quai de Rive Neuve, a deafening roar shook the building to its foundations. The cacophony of sound comprised of glasses rattling, shopkeepers yanking their shutters to the floor, and bottles smashing on the cobbled streets. This wasn’t the roar you might hear as teenagers edge closer together to shout invective slurs at each other in one of our sanitised English grounds; this was another battle in a weekend of conflict.



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As we gathered in the English crowd on the corner of Rue Fort Notre Dame the clashes developed at an alarming rate. Russian fans were arranged in rows wearing black shirts and balaclavas. Almost all of them were carrying chairs above their heads. This worked to dangerous effect both offensively and defensively. While the plastic base deflected any bottles thrown by the English fans, the protruding metal legs were thrust towards those who wanted to engage. Young men smothered in claret stumbled back towards the waterfront with alarming regularity. Each one of these men pre-empted a running retreat by the English before another rallying cry and swift advance. 

One Brit was dragged by his compatriot back from the front line with deep gashes around his abdomen and arms; a harrowing image I will never forget. While I did not see any knives, the Russians could have only inflicted these wounds with sharp objects. At this time, these wounded men dropped at the feet of policemen by the water’s edge. They stood like statues whilst holding their dogs on leashes; ignoring their duties and neglecting hundreds of vulnerable people whom they claim to serve.

This would not be the end of police incompetence. Similarly, the Russian thugs would save their violent piece de resistance for the Stade Velodrome.

The picture becomes a little bit clearer then. Contrary to popular myth, the vast majority of England fans who engaged in violence did so out of necessity; the instinct to defend oneself when panic and fear are realised. There is however, an act of provocation in which a much larger percentage of England fans take part. Hundreds of supporters lined the docks to bellow songs about “Ten German bombers” and chants which claimed “This city is ours!” While it needs to be remembered that the military and imperial connotations of these songs are offensive to many, this was not a contributing factor in the Russian attacks; their black attire was uniform, their formation was systematic, and their methods were rehearsed. This was planned; and had been so months in advance.

Rue Forte Notre Dame

While there were complex nuances surrounding culpability for what happened outside the stadium, what happened inside was stark and disturbing. We took our seat twenty minutes before kick-off in the lofty rows of the Tribune Jean Bouin, completely unaware of how lucky we would be to avoid the acts of barbarism which would ensue at the full-time whistle only one hundred yards away.

The first salient moment of the match occurred before a ball had been kicked; The Russian anthem was booed almost unanimously in the English and neutral parts of the ground. Everywhere I turned I could see people with their hands cupped around their mouths to amplify the noise. England had not taken over thirty thousand far-right nationalist thugs to France, this was mostly a reaction to the deplorable conduct of around two hundred Russian ‘ultras’ throughout the weekend.

In the game itself, Eric Dier’s powerful free-kick twenty minutes from time was cancelled out by a late Vasili Berezutski header. Within a minute of the ball looping over the stranded Joe Hart the trouble resumed. Flares emitting grey smoke were swung around the Russian end and a red ball of fire was shot from a flare gun. The flame travelled over half the length of the pitch and landed amongst the England fans in the Tribune Ganay. Even in the highest reaches of the stadium the atmosphere felt ominous. Again, there was the sense permeating through the ground that this was not simply an over-exuberant goal celebration, rather it was a planned moment of attack.

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The balaclava clad Russian ultras, most of whom were in remarkable physical condition, stepped over a thin sheet of tarpaulin and walked past the petrified young stewards to attack those in the neutral part of the Virage Sud. There was not one police officer in the stand to intercept the assault. It was as simple as that.

Implicit within the claim of the British press that this incident was a ‘clash’ is the idea that the English fans were resistant and combative; quite the opposite happened. Men shielded their sons. The Russians attacked anyone in an England shirt, some of whom had their hands in the air. Groups of hooligans could be seen gathering in the walkways and kicking people on the floor. Fans, some of whom were wearing French football shirts, fled towards a fence at the right hand side of the stand en masse. Many saw the ten foot drop as compulsory if they were to escape. There could have easily been a crush.

Even from one hundred yards away, blood was visible on the white velodrome seats; another image I will not forget.

For many people, attending this competition was a question of risk and reward. 'Does the pleasure gained from attending a game outweigh the risk of encountering a terrorist attack?' UEFA and the French authorities were so preoccupied with this concern that they neglected their duty to police the archetypal football problem of Hooliganism. The safety of sixty-five thousand people was compromised that evening.
On the 14^th of June UEFA penalised Russia with suspended elimination from Euro 2016. It is unlikely however, that UEFA will receive the punishment they deserve for their failure to ensure the safety of this fixture; an ineptitude which has rendered many people seriously injured.