On June 24, the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre hosted The Dual Role of Football During the Holocaust, an online conversation with Paul Salmons, Kevin E. Simpson and Liz Berger, three scholars on sport and its place in modern Jewish history.
Salmons, an historian and curator, began with a grim chapter in football’s story: the Mauthausen Concentration Camp in Upper Austria, where, from 1938 to 1945, some 200,000 prisoners were held and 100,000 died.
Immediately outside the camp, said Salmons, a football (soccer) field was constructed through the labour of the prisoners. SS soldiers formed a team that played league games on the pitch from 1943 to 1945.
Players, fans and officials would have had a clear view of the camp’s infirmary, where sick and dying prisoners were quarantined to prevent the spread of disease. There are reports, Salmons said, that the dead were taken out of the infirmary, past the field while a game was being played and up a pathway towards the gates of the camp. Additionally, he said, there were reports that the stench of burning bodies from the crematoria permeated the surrounding areas for the period of the camp’s existence.
“This is a very visible picture of the atrocities that are going on while they are cheering on their team, while they are celebrating those goals,” Salmons said. “What does that do in terms of the attitudes or the opinion of the footballers themselves? These members of the SS, this team of murderers, are being cheered on by the local people. Maybe in the pub that night they’re being bought a drink, maybe people are patting them on the back for the goals that they scored.”
Simpson, an author and professor of psychology at John Brown University, discussed the prisoner experience at Terezin, north of Prague, a camp that housed Jews prominent in science, the arts and sports, and was used by the Nazis to deceive the outside world into thinking prisoners were treated well.
Football participation at the camp was so widespread that prisoners were able to create a league, Liga Terezin, and teams were formed by the nationality of the player or the particular job they were assigned, explained Simpson.
Female prisoners at the camps would design kits for the players; games were wildly popular and tickets were highly in demand, as photos from the camp illustrate. Hundreds of matches were played during a season, he said. With the liquidation of Terezin in October 1944, many of the players, like the rest of the prisoners, would be sent to Auschwitz, where they would die.
Among the professional players who were imprisoned at the camp was a standout Czechoslovakian goaltender, Jirka Taussig. Simpson cited an interview with Taussig, a survivor who later moved to the United States and would also be known as George Tesar. Of the games, Taussig said, “We were the stars of Terezin. Every Sunday afternoon, 3,500 fans came to watch the league matches. The youth saw us as a model to imitate.
“We gave them hope, and we represented life. In all the misery and suffering, hope was a rare thing,” said Taussig. “We played for them because we knew that shortly they would be sent east, and we felt that we gave them a little spark of light before their death.”
Berger, a research consultant with UNESCO, spoke about the postwar period to the present, examining what sport has meant to Jewish communities and what the consequences are when that meaning is denied or weaponized.
“Sport is never just athletic competition. It’s one of the main domains through which societies talk about and express and sometimes form their deep values,” she said. Sport is a powerful tool for “communal recovery, identity transmission and the assertion of continued presence and vitality,” she noted.
At the same time, sport can be used as a venue for antisemitic or racist expression. Antisemitism in sport can be viewed as an indication of a society’s broader tolerance for antisemitism.
“Antisemitism in sport is not a lesser form of antisemitism. It’s not minor. It’s a manifestation of how a society relates to their Jewish communities if they have them or their concept of who Jews are if they don’t,” she said.
Berger pointed to football fandom, particularly in Europe, which is organized around tribal loyalties, class identities and historical memories. Fan support in Europe is frequently an expression of who a person is ethnically, historically and politically.
Meanwhile, Berger said, some European clubs, such as Tottenham Hotspur in England or Ajax in the Netherlands, are seen as Jewish teams, despite what might seem at times tenuous connections to the Jewish community. These teams have been the target of antisemitic hostility from the opposing fans and, conversely, demonstrate a form of solidarity with the Jewish community from supporters.
The day of the VHEC webinar happened to be a notable one in Canadian football. A few hours earlier, the men’s national team advanced beyond the preliminary round of the World Cup for the first time in its history. They were eliminated later in the tournament.
The VHEC will host two more football-related events: Football, History and Society, an online discussion with journalist Simon Kuper, on Aug. 25, and Holocaust Education in the Modern Stadium, a conversation at the Italian Cultural Centre, on Oct. 27. To watch the June 24 webinar, go to vhec.org/football_during_the_holocaust.
Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.
