Why Euro 2024 fans snapping spaghetti and breaking baguettes are just being good sports

During this competition, we’ve seen Austrian fans breaking bread (literally) in front of the French – and Albanians hitting the Italians where it hurts. I hate to say it, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a bit of healthy nationalism, admits Femi Oluwole

Austrian fans taunt French fans ahead of their Group D match on Monday (AP)

It might surprise you to hear that despite being a huge Remainer, Europhile and general lefty, I have no problem with England fans ripping into Germany and other European countries in ways that some people might find offensive during the Euros.

During this competition, we’ve seen Austrian fans breaking baguettes in front of the French – and Albanians snapping spaghetti in front of Italians. And I hate to say it, but I think it’s beautiful. In some ways, sport and culture are where nationalism belongs. It’s only a problem when it creeps outside of that.

Watching England fans try currywurst, the slightly spicy German sausage – and almost unanimously declare that fish and chips is better – filled me with nothing but pride. Some of them said it was horrible; that it had nothing on a traditional English banger. But every one of them was willing to try it. All of them were happy to share in the culture of other countries and I loved that.

During this competition, we’ve seen Austrian fans breaking baguettes in front of the French – and Albanians snapping spaghetti in front of Italians (Tik Tok)

Sadly, our politics often gives us a distorted view of how we’re supposed to see other countries and our place in the world. And the irony is, the English nationalism we see in politics is very un-British.

I remember being at the closing ceremony of the 2012 Olympics. I had painted the union jack across my face and arms – I’d never felt prouder as a Brit. The Only Fools and Horses tribute act featured “Rodney and Del Boy” dressed as Batman and Robin, running out of their busted three-wheeled car. It was so quintessentially British.

Del Boy, as we all know, is a market trader who sees himself as a millionaire-in-waiting. He is an everyday bloke, but his inflated ego is the real comedy of the show. That self-deprecating humour mixed with false superiority is at the core of British comedy. But the American commentators at the time didn’t understand it. They just saw a pathetic attempt at Batman.

And that’s the issue: because English arrogance has always been a joke for most people. We know we’re not better than anyone, but it’s funny to pretend that we think we are, especially given our imperial history. In many ways, we’re mocking the colonial ideologies of the past – knowingly.

When I lived in France, I would always admit that French food tastes better than English food, but I stood strong on the fact that we have better food in England. Why? Because we embrace food from across the world (even if we don’t like talking about why that is).

One of the England fans even mentioned “chicken Kiev” when asked why English food is better than German food. Citing the capital city of another country – while arguing that your country is the best – is about as English as it gets!

The Scots know the feeling, too. Many celebrated an eight-year-old Scottish boy saying f*** you Germany on the news ahead of their game. Then, just an hour later, the same people were sharing the Trainspotting meme about the woes of being Scottish.

Here’s the problem: yes, many people see the idea of Brits being inherently better than everyone else as an obvious self-deprecating joke. But in 2016, we realised that a lot of Brits weren’t joking. You remember the campaign line of the Vote Leave campaign: “They need us more than we need them”? That was the test.

If you could be convinced that 27 countries need one country more than that one country needs them… if you believed that 27 countries damaging their supply of goods with one country would be hurt more than one country damaging its trade ties with its 27 closest neighbours – and would go so far as to bet the future of your country’s economy on that belief – then the joke was lost on you. No matter how obvious it was, you fell for it – by genuinely believing we’re better than everyone else. And we all know how that turned out...

So, no. When the stakes are low – as with sports games (even the Euros) and music competitions – nationalism is fine. International relations in those circumstances should be treated like sibling rivalry.

We should be out for blood when it’s about having fun, but we should never forget that the people in other countries across the world are just like us. We’re not born better than them; no matter what their governments do, or what food they eat. But when nationalism enters politics, it turns us against our brothers and sisters abroad and makes us make stupid decisions.

So when we play our next game and the Danes chuck tea at the pitch, or poke “things” through Yorkshire puddings, and we respond by punting pastries at them… it might not feel the same.