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Globalization as Imperialism with a Kinder Face: The Case of the Sports World

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After discussing the recent 2017 IAAF World Track and Field Championships held in London with a friend, I was struck just how clearly the sports world shows that globalization is imperialism with a friendlier face. Just as Michel Foucault argues in Discipline and Punish, changing forms of punishment—from violent torture to confinement in modern prison systems—made punishment less barbaric while simultaneously further legitimizing it, globalization makes imperialism more palatable to the “modern” mind. Exploitation of the global south by the global north, and poorer countries by richer countries, continues unabated in the globalist world.

Reviewer David J. Rothman notes that, for Foucault, systems like schools, factories, hospitals, and prisons:

 

expanded the scope of discipline and legitimized it. It turned the individual into a “case,” which simultaneously helped to explain his actions and to control them. The very concept of the individual as a case represented a “thaw” that liberated scientific knowledge (to think of the patient as a case was the beginning of medical innovation), and at the same time expanded institutional means of control (for example, the right of the hospital to confine the mentally ill). Thus, a case approach “at one and the same time constitutes an object for a branch of knowledge and a hold for a branch of power.”

In the instance of the prison, this case orientation encouraged the expansion of knowledge in such disciplines as criminology, psychology and eventually psychiatry. Concomitantly, it legitimized incarceration in the name of treatment. Since the institution could cure, it was proper to confine.

 

With the advent of modern prison systems punishment was refined and, in the process, became more pervasive. This is no different than the evolution of international power structures from those represented by imperialism and colonialism in the past and those created by globalization in the present.

Emin Colasan, a Turkish columnist, wrote an article on 12 August 2017 regarding “Devsirme” Turkish athletes. The term itself is from Ottoman history, once used to refer to the Janissary Corps, but now used to refer to naturalized foreigners, particularly in sports. Mr. Colasan notes that Turkey’s two medalists in the recent IAAF Track and Field Championships were not in fact Turkish at all: Cuban Yasmani Copello won a silver medal in the 400 meter hurdles while Azeri Ramil Guliev won gold in an upset victory in the 200 meter event. While this is of course an unbelievable achievement for these two athletes (as a former track and field athlete myself, I know the hard work the sport requires), it would be wrong to characterize it as an achievement for Turkish sport itself since these athletes were not products of Turkish sporting infrastructure. Mr. Colasan provides another example in the Turkish National Women’s Basketball Team, where Americans like Quanitra Hollingsworth represent Turkey in international competitions. For Hollingsworth it is a “business arrangement” (https://aroundthehorns.wordpress.com/2012/05/10/quanitra-hollingsworth-turkish-citizen-olympian/ that will ultimately help her career—but it won’t help the careers of native Turkish basketball players who may hope to one day represent their country.

 

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The Internationalization of Turkish Sport, from Ramil Guliev to Quanitra Hollingsworth. While this is of course a positive development for these two athletes in particular, it might not be as positive for native athletes. Images Courtesy of: http://www.pressherald.com/2017/08/10/world-track-championships-surprise-victory-for-turkeys-ramil-guliyev-in-200/ (TOP) and https://alchetron.com/Quanitra-Hollingsworth-620347-W (BOTTOM).

 

The importing of foreign sports stars is something that Qatar, among other oil rich gulf states, is notorious for. Deutsche Welle, writing about Qatar’s 2015 success in handball, notes that only four of Qatari team was actually from Qatar. The team made up of players from Bosnia, Montenegro, Serbia, France, Spain, and Cuba “had been enticed to play for the Gulf state thanks to six figure winning bonuses. They were also guaranteed a life long pension, if the team reached the semifinals”. Deutsche Welle offers a thinly veiled defense of Qatari actions, calling it true globalization and further justifying it by comparing it to the actions of major European football clubs:

 

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The Newest Qatari, Danijel Saric (Formerly of Serbia). Image Courtesy Of: http://www.dw.com/en/qatar-buying-their-way-to-sporting-success/a-18233576

 

Qatar’s approach in this instance is no different to the way that big European football clubs operate. They search for talent worldwide, then sign them up and then train them. It’s just that Qatar’s sheikhs are doing it at the national team level, not for a club.

Some people might find it immoral, and maybe it is. But in high-level professional sport, where lots of money is involved and success is the most important currency, the approach is pretty common.

 

Again, it is the importance of “money” that drives Qatar’s—and Turkey’s—desire to obtain foreign athletes. Unfortunately, it is the kind of short-sighted policy that defines the actions of globalist leaders the world over. Rather than develop their own sporting cultures and infrastructure countries are trying to buy success; rather than develop indigenous technologies and businesses countries would rather privatize existing state run industries and import from multinational corporations. Such policies do little to encourage long term home-grown economic growth and the profits stream out of developing countries to the home-countries of multinational corporations based in the developed world.

What Deutsche Welle also misses—by comparing Qatar’s actions to those of “the big European football clubs”—is that the actions of those clubs is also imperialism disguised as globalization; footballers are imported to Europe from poorer countries in Latin America and Africa in a modern day exploitation of the global South in sports. The results have not been great for Latin American clubs, as a courser look at the history of the FIFA World Club Championship (later FIFA Club World Cup) shows: While the competition was roughly equal in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s (South America won 6 championships to Europe’s 4 from 1960-69 while Europe won 7 championships to South America’s 11 from 1970 to 1989) the advent of globalization changed the balance from 1990 onward. From 1990 to 2004 Europe won 10 championships to South America’s 5 and after the start of the FIFA Club World Cup in 2004 South America has won just 3 competitions to Europe’s 9 (the last time a South American participant won was 2012). Because of the globalization of sport poorer countries have no incentive to develop sporting infrastructure. South American and African clubs will sell young players off (the raw materials of world football) at cheap prices for them to be refined at major European clubs; countries like Turkey and Qatar will just buy sporting success in lieu of developing their sporting infrastructure. In this respect human beings become commodified; both processes are similarly short cited and create a vicious cycle in terms of both sporting and economic development.

Perhaps the most obvious manifestation of imperialism and sports can be found by looking at the make up of international football teams. The French national side of the 1980s (immediately following decolonization) was mainly a European team. The team that represented France at the 2016 European Championships was mainly an African team, the results of years of French Colonialism. Belgium is no different, and King Leopold’s horrific actions in the Belgian Congo will not be erased by Vincent Kompany’s success on the pitch representing Belgium any more than French domination of Algeria was erased by Zinedine Zidane’s brilliance. That European countries still reap the benefits of colonialism is shocking; that European neo-colonialism—under the guise of sporting globalization—continues unabated is disappointing.

 

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The French Side at the 1984 European Championships. Image Courtesy Of: http://www.lalsace.fr/sport/2016/06/07/france-des-entrees-en-lice-qui-donnent-le-ton

 

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The French Side at the 2016 European Championships. Image Courtesy Of: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/football/2016/06/10/euro-2016-on-friday-kick-off-times-tv-channels-and-team-news-ahe/

 

As I have argued, the current globalized world is one that puts a kinder face on imperialism, masking some real issues. While it is certainly a positive development that Belgium has started to recognize the footballing success of African footballers specifically, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if these players could represent Congo instead of Belgium. If African football is to develop—and an African team is to win a World Cup—the best players cannot be continually outsourced to Europe. Such policies serve to continually retard the growth of African football.

 

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Image Courtesy Of: https://onedio.com/haber/iyi-birey-iyi-vatandas-ve-iyi-futbolcu-yetistirmek-icin-adanan-fikirlerin-eseri-altinordu-615891

 

I hope that more clubs take a suggestion from the Turkish second division club Altinordu, whose motto is “A good person, a good citizen, a good footballer”. Founded in Izmir in 1923, Altinordu deliberately took a Turkish name (literally “Golden Horde”) so as to represent Turkish nationalism following the founding of the Turkish Republic in the same year. As the team’s motto shows, there is a real nationalist undercurrent that puts citizenship and individual character before being a footballer. Most importantly, the team’s policies are actually positive for Turkish football. The club will not sign non-Turkish players, and puts an emphasis on nurturing homegrown talent instead. The team narrowly missed promotion to the Turkish Super League last season with a roster whose average age was less than 23. The team’s chairman Mehmet Seyit Ozkan made headlines last year when he said “Even if [Argentine star Lionel] Messi wants to play for Altinordu for free, I would definitely reject him”. Mr. Ozkan underlined “I believe in our young Turkish players. I’m giving chances to them”. This kind of policy can only help Turkish football in the long run since one contributing factor in Turkish football’s recent decline has been the rising number of non-Turkish players; clubs have no incentive to develop home grown talent because a 2015 rule change allowed Turkish teams to field an XI made up entirely of foreign players. In 2016 the Turkish Super League was made up of 47.5 percent non-Turkish players; it is a similar situation to what is seen in the English Premier League (and we all know what year it was the last time England won a major football tournament (!).

Whether football fan or not, we should all be concerned about the negative effects of globalization and be prepared to discuss different perspectives. Even if it seems to be more humane, the current system is reminiscent of the bold faced imperialism and colonialism of the past, benefitting the global north at the expense of the global south. In order to encourage long term growth worldwide—both culturally and economically—it is prudent to recognize that globalization is far from an unequivocally positive trend.

 

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Globalization Has In Fact Exacerbated Inequality In The West. Image Courtesy Of: http://marketbusinessnews.com/financial-glossary/economic-globalization/

 

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An Amusing Picture Describes the Thin Line Separating Cultural Imperialism from Globalization. Image Courtesy Of: http://f10cmc100-2.blogspot.com.tr/2010/10/globalization-versus-cultural.html
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Goodbye Izmir Alsancak Stadium: The Past and Present of a Country as Seen Through the Eyes of a Football Stadium

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Last year I wrote about the impending destruction of the stadium where I watched my first ever football match: the Alsancak Stadium in Izmir, Turkey. On August 3, 2015, the demolition started. The stadium that hosted the first game in Turkey’s highest professional league in 1959—between Izmirspor and Beykoz 1908—has now been consigned to history. All that remains are the memories, the songs of fans that still echo in our minds and radio broadcasts from a simpler time. One year ago Turkish sportswriter Bagis Erten compared the lovable venue to London’s Craven Cottage; sadly for the Alsancak Stadium—one of Turkey’s oldest, with football having been played on the grounds since 1910—it has ceased to exist while Craven Cottage is into its third century and going strong. As Mr. Erten notes, the Turkish government, in the AKP years, has enjoyed destroying the old to make way for new at the expense of history. While it is still unclear if a mall will be actually be built in the space vacated by the stadium, the story of the Alsancak Stadium also tells the story of the Turkish republic from 1923 up to today.

These days the AKP government—which has made no secret of its disdain for “heathen” (gavur) Izmir—has had it out for Turkey’s third largest (and most liberal) city. And the Turkish Football Federation (TFF) has followed suit, adding insult to injury by penalizing four of the city’s teams—Karsiyaka SK, Goztepe SK, Altay Izmir, and Altinordu Izmir—in the wake of the Alsancak Stadium’s demolition. Three of the teams have been fined 30 thousand Turkish Liras—Altay got away with a fine of just half that, maybe they were pitied because the official name of the stadium was the Altay Alsancak Stadium?—while all four teams had their applications for licenses to play rejected by the TFF. The reason? The teams don’t have a stadium in which to play their games. Obviously, this is bizarre. Some club officials noted that “It wasn’t us who destroyed the Alsancak Stadium one month before the start of the season”. But this is Turkey. The teams from Turkey’s oldest footballing city are being penalized for a governmental decision to destroy their stadium. But the absurdity doesn’t stop there.

Back in 1870 football came to Izmir. As one of the Ottoman Empire’s largest ports the city was open to foreign influence, and British sailors brought football with them. With the Sultan suspicious of organized sport it was mainly Italians, British, and local Greeks and Armenians who played the game. In 1910 the grounds that would become the Alsancak Stadium first hosted football. But it wasn’t Altay that owned the stadium then—it was the Greek team Panionios that owned the land. After the population exchange of 1922 Panionios relocated to the Athens suburb of Nea Smyrni. The club that was founded in 1890 in Izmir continue to play today across the Aegean in the Nea Smyrni stadium while their old land has been taken away from Izmir’s teams in 2015 like it was taken away from the Greek side in 1922. History is brutal like that, the wrongs only repeat themselves.

In 2012 Daghan Irak wrote an informative piece regarding the Alsancak stadium in which he uses history to help explain the present:

 

Tarihi bir kere köklerinden söktüğünde, yerine koyduğun her şey de köksüz oluyor. Mirası bir kez reddettikten sonra hiçbir şeye sahip çıkmak zorunda kalmıyorsun. Bugün Alsancak’ı yıkıp AVM dikebiliyorsun, çünkü Panionios Stadı’nın üstüne de Alsancak’ı yapabilmiştin. Aynı şekilde mesela İstiklal Caddesi’ndeki Circle D’Orient ya da Saray Sineması da AVM olabiliyor, çünkü onların gerçek sahiplerini 1955’te elinde çivili sopalarla kovalarken zihinlere de formatı çekmiştin. 1915’ten itibaren sistematik olarak müsadere edilen azınlık mallarını dağıttığın sonradan görmeleri “muteber insanlar” olarak takdim edebildiğin için artık her şeye saldırı serbest.

“When you uproot history, everything you plant in its place becomes rootless. When you reject your heritage once, then you no longer have to own up to anything. Today you can build a mall in the place of the Alsancak Stadium because you once made the Alsancak Stadium in the place of the Panionios Stadium. Just like Istiklal Street’s [Istanbul’s main pedestrian street off of Taksim Square] Circle D’orient and Saray Cinema can become malls because you chased away their real owners in 1955 with sticks, reformatting everyone’s minds. Because you have systematically confiscated the possessions of minorities since 1915, and called their new owners “legal owners”, now every kind of attack is allowed.”

 

If a country doesn’t respect its past—in this case the close relationship between Turks and non-Muslim minorities during the Ottoman years—in the present, then how could you expect any historical structure to have meaning? How can you stop the rampant thirst for money through construction projects—in the name of the AKP’s extreme capitalism—if you don’t care about history? The stadium wasn’t even owned by Turks before the population exchange of 1923, so now it can be taken from its new “owners” and who knows what will be built in its place.

A Turkish businessman living in France has claimed that he can make it ready for matches in 45 days, but that seems unlikely given the legal hurdles that will have to be jumped through. Meanwhile, the TFF explained the fines it gave Izmir’s teams. Apparently, they didn’t present a “Security Certificate” for the stadiums they will be playing in. That’s all well and good but how could a team present a “Security Certificate” for a non-existent stadium? It’s the same story just in different words: If you won’t vote for us, then you won’t have football.

 

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All Images Courtesy of: http://fotogaleri.hurriyet.com.tr/galeridetay/97592/2/1/izmir-alsancak-stad-y-k-l-yor

Requiem For a Theater of Dreams: Izmir Alsancak Stadium

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One month ago on August 20, 2014 Izmir football was dealt an unexpected blow. The famed Alsancak stadium, located near the center of the city’s trendy shopping district of the same name, was condemned. The Provincial Sports Directorate claimed that following tests made on August 6th the stadium was found to be in danger of collapse in the event of an earthquake. Apparently, both stands—as well as the office building which is home to the Altay Izmir football club and Provincial Sports Directorate—do not have foundations. As such, the order was given to evacuate all offices immediately and to close down the stadium.

Such a decision sent shockwaves through the collective heart of Izmir football, since it was made just days before the start of the season. Four of Izmir’s teams—Karşıyaka SK and Altinordu, both from the second division, and Göztepe SK and Altay Izmir, both from the third division—share the Alsancak Stadium. In fact, all four teams spent 700,000 Turkish Liras each for pitch improvements. Altay Izmir, the stadium’s owner, make most of their money by renting out the stadium to the other three teams. As tenants, Altay president Aslan Savasan said that his team spent 300,000 Turkish Liras on new gates and 325,000 Turkish Liras on new seats in preparation for the new season. This is not to mention a monthly bill of 7,000 Turkish Liras for watering costs. Without rent money, Altay—one of Turkey’s oldest, formed during the war of independence in 1914—is in danger of collapsing.

Of course, underneath this decision—as with so many in Turkey—lies the specter of political maneuvering. The stadium was originally owned by the Greek side Paninios, which moved to Athens after the Turkish war of independence (for more on this you may read the first chapters of my thesis) and the stadium was taken over by Altay. The first stands—those same stands that supposedly have no foundation—were built in 1929, six years after the founding of the Turkish Republic. This makes the Alsancak Stadium one of Turkey’s oldest. But old doesn’t necessarily mean it is worth saving, as one of the Altay officials I met August 30 told me when we chatted beneath the team’s offices. He claimed it was a completely political decision, due to the fact that Izmir always votes for the CHP. They say the plan is to build a mall in place of the old stadium, otherwise why can’t they restore it? I had to agree with him as I looked out to the old Cypresses that stand behind one of the goals, baking in the sun. He told me he had worked for the team for 50 years, since those tall Cypresses—a symbol of the stadium—had been knee high.

I had gone on this day to pay my respects to the stadium where my stadium adventures began. It was a hot August day not unlike this one, a day where—ultimately—my innocence would be lost forever. But I hadn’t known that at the time. Otherwise, I might not have even gone.

 

We were in high school then, back in August of 2003. Berker and Ekin, two of my childhood friends, and I had made a decision to attend the Izmir derby between Karşıyaka and Göztepe. It was one of those foolhardy decisions that youth is made of—one of those days you throw caution to the wind and just wave your parents away when they make comments like “Don’t go” or “Its too dangerous, just watch it on TV”.

It was my first game, so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. A row of riot policemen where standing behind their shields, blocking the road that curves in front of the stadium. A few ticket stands were set up, small prefabricated plastic cubicles. There we got tickets to the Göztepe side. I personally am a Karşıyaka fan but—even at that young age—my friends knew better than to allow us to be separated and my protests fell on deaf ears. Ekin and I got our tickets as well as one for Berker, who would be meeting us. With nothing better to do than wait, Ekin and I took a seat on the sidewalk, taking advantage of the shade provided by the wall of the Alsancak train station. The sun was high in the clear summer sky, it was a beautiful day that was soon to be marred by some of the worst scenes I have—to this day—ever seen at a match.

It all happened in a blur. One moment we heard a commotion on the main road, in front of the line of riot police, and we moved off the sidewalk into the middle of the street. Göztepe fans were streaming towards us in their red and yellow shirts, fear shown in their eyes. The municipality busses from Karşıyaka had arrived under a hail of stones, thrown by Göztepe fans protected by the line of riot police. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like they could hold those lines. Bottles, lighters, rocks, flares. Everything was flying through the air as the Karşıyaka fans rushed the cops. Ekin and I took cover behind one of the plastic ticket booths. I still remember the hollow sounds of stones bouncing off the plastic as we hunched over. Then came the sound of a bottle shattering, falling into pieces just like the calm of this lazy summer day on the Aegean coast that had been shattered. I don’t remember why but for some reason I left Ekin. I knew Berker would be arriving right in the middle of that chaos. We had arranged to meet in the courtyard of the train station. Looking back on it, I blame it on the foolish courage of youth. I didn’t want to be a hero—what is a hero even? I just wanted to meet my friend. I was also more than a little wary of being a sitting duck in the event that the police line was broken.

I reasoned that my black t-shirt—conspicuously chosen as a neutral color—would protect me. Ekin wasn’t having any of it. He would stay there, crouched down behind the ticket box. I assured him I would return with Berker and took a deep breath before stepping out, hugging the grey concrete wall of the train station as I walked. In the chaos no one even noticed me. I guess I didn’t look like I was looking for a fight. Bodies were running all around me as I turned the corner, into the courtyard of the train station. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as I took out my phone, frantically calling Berker. I could barely hear him on the other end, his voice was drowned out by the screams of fans engaged in pitched battles in front of the station.

“Im in front of Alsancak Station!”

“What??”

“In front of the stati—oh shit. Shit. Shit!!”

“What? What happened?”

“Come, come just come as fast as you can, we need to find Ekin!” I was staring in front of me. Staring at a man who was doubled over, his shoulder length hair had fallen in disarray all over his face. “WHY???” A blood curdling scream flew out of his lungs.

I was frozen, stuck to the ground as fresh blood dripped onto the concrete no more than ten feet in front of me. Amazing how quickly a white t-shirt becomes soaked with blood.

He had been stabbed with a doner knife then and there. His assailants mixed back into the crowd as onlookers more seasoned than I ran to his side. Somewhere would be an ambulance. But where? I could no longer make out sounds, just the frantic voices of people trying to stop the bleeding. I shook myself out of it and got to the doors of the station, the safest place in sight since the fighting hadn’t yet spread into the building. And I waited for Berker, trying to shake the things I’d seen from my mind. It wasn’t easy, my heart was beating with adolescent excitement and fear mixed together in equal parts. When he showed up his eyes had a worried look as I gave him a look back that said “I couldn’t even begin to explain it to you”.

When we found Ekin he was surrounded by a pack of riot police, they had retreated to the immediate front of the stadium. The street was a mess of stones and shattered bottles, empty cans of soft drinks and water bottles. Ekin’s hands were trembling as he tried to light a Winston. In high school you choose your cigarettes by price—cheapest is best, since you’re going to look cool no matter what. He couldn’t light it, an older man behind him took care of it before Ekin puffed frantically, words mixing with the grey smoke into the air.

“This guy broke through the police lines…he came face to face with me. Behind…behind the ticket booth. He had a…crazed look on his face. He was carrying a rock so large he was stumbling along the road with it. And he threw it at us!” We took comfort in being together again, three seventeen-year old boys in a savage world.

Inside the stadium we were packed like sardines chanting profanity in unison at the other side (even though…I supported the other side!). Berker went to light a cigarette—he had a superstition that it would bring a goal—as a sound bomb exploded on his neck.

“I can’t hear! I can’t hear! My ear!” He bent over as Ekin and I inspected his neck. It seemed fine enough, I tried to sound confident but what did I know? He went back to the cigarette, rubbing his ear as if to make it better between drags. By halftime his hearing was restored but I could understand his fear. It seemed as if anything could happen. And indeed, it did on that night.

After the match we learned the truth—a twenty three year old Karşıyaka fan had been stabbed to death in the open stands across from us during the match. They say it wasn’t related to football—something about a girl, apparently. But whatever it was, even I knew at that age that no one should die because of football or because of a girl. They said that there hadn’t been enough cops—just 800. Looking back on it all, it wasn’t the cops fault completely. It is society’s fault, and sadly eleven years later it seems that not much has changed. There is still violence at stadiums and—as we see with Alsancak stadium’s imminent destruction—it is still political games and money rather than respect for human life or historical value that govern people’s actions on so many levels, both politically and culturally.

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(Image Courtesy of: http://www.goal.com/tr/slideshow/3420/3/title/futbolun-aldığı-canlar. For more on this match in Turkish please see these two stories archived on Hurriyet.com: http://webarsiv.hurriyet.com.tr/2003/08/06/326527.asp And http://webarsiv.hurriyet.com.tr/2003/08/07/327015.asp)

Below are a few pictures of the stadium I took on the day I visited. I also was able to get an Altay shirt from last season, which was their centenary, which can be viewed here.

 

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The streets that have seen many a pitched battle between football fans in a calmer time.

 

 

 

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“Mustafa Kemal’s Soldiers”, graffiti from protesters from more recent times sends a clear message.

 

 

 

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Izmir Ataturk Stadium, Izmir, Turkey: Galatasaray-Atletico Madrid Charity Match for the Families Affected by the Soma Mine Disaster (0-0) Matchday

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A Few Photos from the match for charity between Galatasaray and Atletico Madrid at Izmir’s Ataturk Stadium. The proceeds are to be donated to the families affected by the Soma mine disaster. For the Matchday write up please click on either English or Turkish.

 

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