Our Life

It is often said on the African continent that, with football, the spectacle isn’t on the pitch, but rather, it is in the stands. Part of the explanation for this maxim is that, while other aspects of African football lag behind global standards, it is incontestable that African football supporters are at the avant-garde of football fandom in several areas. Supporters in the Maghreb, for instance, use sophisticated choreographies and chant songs on a level unparalleled in Europe and South America. Farther away from the influence of Mediterranean terraces, West African supporters bring their own religious and cultural songs and dances to the stadium. So, although football, by and large, remains the most important spectator sport on the African continent, those more interested in what happens beyond the game must look past the sport and revert their focus back onto the spectators in the stands.


Footballing Chants as a Form of Political Expression

In North Africa, football without a soundtrack is soulless. Any true die-hard supporter will insist that the game be played against a backdrop of goblet drums, trumpets, and karkabous (North African castanets). According to Algerian professor Youcef Fates, the musicality of North African supporters can be explained by the cultural institution of the ‘Café Maure’ or the ‘Arab café’. These traditional coffee shops, which spawned in colonial North Africa during the nineteenth century, were safe spaces for male artists, politicians, and football fans to congregate and share ideas. As places of free-mixing and cross-pollination, otherwise exclusive groups of men were brought together as football began to proliferate across the African continent at the beginning of the twentieth century. In an era when football matches were not yet televised, coffee shops became of paramount importance to supporters as they could come together and listen to results and even brief analysis over the radio.

Due to their close physical proximity with musicians and politicians, it was only natural that, over time, football supporters were influenced by both politics and music. Saoud L’Oranais (ca. 1886, Oran, Algeria–1943, Sobibor concentration camp, present-day Poland), a Jewish Algerian composer, published songs such as ‘Gheniet U.S.M.O.’ (The songs of U.S.M. Oran). The track is likely the first-ever football phonograph record captured on 78 RPM in North Africa.[1] The lyrics call on the listeners to celebrate USMO’s 1933 victory in the regional Oran Cup. Soon after, Chaâbi[2] masters that supported different clubs made songs of their own in praise of their sporting associations.

The turbulent 1940s brought war and widespread destruction to the world, but in North Africa, it was also the time that nationalist movements grew exponentially. In that context, clubs were used as alternative ways to contribute to independence movements. Indigenous working-class clubs such as Al Ahly in Cairo, Egypt and Mouloudia of Algiers had large memberships and acted as an ‘acceptable’ way of politically fighting against settler-colonial institutions. For instance, ‘min djibalina’—a patriotic song authored by the Algerian scouts  that called for independence–was often sung on football terraces. In 1958 all Indigenous clubs pulled out of league play in the midst of the Algerian Revolution (1954–62), as ordered by the National Liberation Front (Front de libération nationale, FLN), the party which led the revolution.

In the modern day, the nature of singing football fans in North Africa has become less explicitly political and much more subtle. Across the Maghreb, the stadium became almost exclusively a place for young men and supporters to sing about their daily lives, touching on themes such as drug use, migration, and government corruption. Indeed, North African football fans are notoriously prolific when it comes to producing music. It is not uncommon for a supporter group in one of North Africa’s biggest clubs to release two or three professionally-produced albums per year. When lyrics are particularly potent, they can drift across borders and elicit transnational success.

In 2016, for example, the Tunisian club, Club Africain ultra group African Winners released ‘Ya Hyetna’ (Our life), which quickly went viral.

     “You brought drugs into the country and you have ruined it,

     You pushed people to immigrate, you forced them,

     You smothered them! In a wooden raft, you threw them!”

Raja Casablanca’s ultra group, Ultras Eagles, along with their affiliated musical group, Gruppo Aquile, released the song ‘Fi Bladi Dalmouni’ (In my country they have oppressed me). The song highlights issues like limited opportunities, economic stagnation, government corruption, and the spread of drugs in Morocco. Its powerful themes struck a chord beyond Morocco, gaining significant popularity in Algeria, especially in the lead-up to the 2019 Hirak anti-government protests.

     “Oh, in my country they have oppressed me,

     Oh, who can I complain to?

     To the lord the Most High,

     Only he knows (my situation)”


     “They’ve spent on Hasheesh,

     And abandoned us like orphans,

     We’ll get our due in the afterlife,

     You’ve wasted talents,

     With drugs, you’ve crushed them,

     Is that not the truth?”


     “You’ve eaten the state’s money,

     Given it to foreigners,

     An entire generation’s been suppressed”

 

Choreography as a Means of Communicating a Global Message

While musical lyrics in North Africa are important for getting a glimpse into the everyday life of a young man, choreographies displayed by fans before and during matches often have messages meant for the outside world. Since October 7, 2023 and the subsequent Israel-Hamas war, many North African supporter groups have used match days to organize choreography in support of the Palestinian cause, which remains an extremely popular and important issue amongst young people in the Maghreb. The foremost example of this solidarity came during the 2024 African Champions League final between Tunisian club Espérance de Tunis and Egyptian club Al Ahly SC. Prior to the kickoff, the Tunisian fans unfurled a massive display that stretched around two stands in Stade Radès outside of Tunis. The banner featured personalities considered to have been at the forefront of fighting for the Palestinian cause over the last several months. Among those depicted were International Court of Justice lawyer from South Africa Adila Hassim, Colombia president Gustavo Petro, Palestinian doctor Ghassan Abu Sittah, Palestinian journalist Saleh Al-Jafrawi, and United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres. The banner also included images of American university students, Glasgow Celtic ultras, and Houthi fighters. Broadcast coverage of the match reached television sets in over sixty countries, including in Israel, and highlighted the impressive displays from supporters, ensuring their message was far-reaching on social media. But it wasn’t just the captivating artwork or the timeliness of the message that impressed; it was also the nuanced understanding of world events that dispelled the notion that North African football supporters are apolitical.

Yet, political messages are not solely restricted to Palestine. In 2017, AS Ain Mlila supporters organized choreography that displayed the faces of Donald Trump, the President of the United States of America, and King Salman, the King of Saudi Arabia. The accompanying text for the choreography was: ‘Two sides of the same coin’. This was perceived as a criticism of Saudi foreign policy, which at the time was especially aggressive during Saudi-led intervention in the Yemeni civil war. And during the semifinals of the 2024 African Confederation Cup between the Algerian club USM of Algiers and Moroccan club RS Berkane, political bad blood between the two neighbours boiled to the fore. Diplomatic relations between the two countries had been severed since August 2021, in part due to scandals related to the Western Sahara—a territory seen as part of Morocco by the Moroccan government, but seen as under occupation by the Algerian government. Prior to the match, Berkane fans (whose club was formerly run and currently influenced by Fouzi Lekjaa, the president of the Moroccan federation and a government official) unfurled a large tarp with a painting of a map of Morocco that stretched into the Western Sahara. The image was supported by the official Moroccan motto, which punctuates the national anthem, ‘Allah (God), the Homeland, the King’.


West African Supporter Groups Mix Football, Politics, and Religion

In the western world it is usually said that you can talk to a colleague about any personal issues or beliefs except politics and religion. In African stadiums, the reverse is often true. The terraces are chock full of brazen and overt religious and political allegiances for all to see. The vast majority of West African national teams have official supporters groups that travel with the team and lead the song and dance. As the supporters groups rely on public funding; it is not uncommon to see them endorse a political personality that they believe will help them secure funds for upcoming trips. A prominent example is in Cote d’Ivoire as the official Ivorian supporters group, CNSE (Comité National de Soutien aux Elephants) can sometimes be seen endorsing certain politicians. In 2017, the group’s leader, Petit Bamba, a tall, languid young man that is known for fully painting his body and striking funny faces when the camera pans on him, held signs endorsing Parfait Kouassi, a businessman that also sits as the vice president of the country’s chamber of commerce. In an interview with French media outlet Le Point, Kouassi explained that, ‘The CNSE was created by the state… It is under the Ministry of Sport, who names its president. Its activities are in part financed by sponsorship contracts and completed with a contribution from the state or the president of the republic.’ When Côte d'Ivoire hosted the 2023 Africa Cup of Nations, the CNSE often led chants of the initials of the incumbent president of the country, Alassane Dramane Ouattara: ‘ADO, ADO, ADO’, clearly endorsing a political personality.

As for religious acts and demonstrations, they are easily observable to anyone paying attention to African football. For example, in English-speaking West Africa, such as in Ghana or Nigeria, gospel music is very prevalent in the stands. In Ghana, for example, the gospel that is adapted for football is called ‘jama’. The songs are essentially church hymns that are vulgarized with the introduction of percussion instruments to try and boost the ‘morale’ of the players and give them energy. Jama is ubiquitous in Ghanaian life, so any Ghanaian will learn how to sing and dance in church, at home, or even in secondary school.  Jama is extremely effective in that it acts as a functional unifier, not only in the way that it galvanizes the team that is bringing all of those fans together, but also in the way that it incorporates lyrics from all of Ghana’s most popular dialects, Twi, Ga, Ewe, and Pidgin. Here is an example of a popular jama that is sung at football matches:

     “Don’t forget me,

     Awo mi jole,

     If you see somebody better than me,

     Never throw my promise away”


Sartorially, African supporters are also amongst the most expressive in the world of football. Whenever major African sporting competitions such as the African Cup of Nations are held, television commentators are sure to point out the ‘colour’ of African supporters. West African supporters, in particular, are the most creative when it comes to dressing to support their team. The 2023 Africa Cup of Nations tournament, hosted in Côte d’Ivoire, was a particularly interesting case study in observing the dress of football supporters, as the country is home to so many neighbouring communities. A walk through the Treichville district in Abidjan can have you rubbing shoulders with Senegalese, Malian, Burkinabe, and Guinean football fans. If we take a case study of the famous Senegalese supporters group, 12ème Gaïndé (12th lion), you can make out several religious symbols and amulets that feature on their attire. One supporter was wearing a necklace with a picture locket of a marabout (a spiritual and religious leader within the Muslim community). The supporter, Karim, claimed that he brought the necklace with him on away trips and that it was worn for good fortune, and also as an object of solace when he feels homesick. Calling on marabouts remains a popular practice in Muslim-majority countries in West Africa and that practice even extends onto the pitch. A memorable audit of the Senegalese Football Federation at the 2002 FIFA World Cup found that the equivalent of €140,000 was spent on ‘improving [the] psychological environment’ and ‘social affairs’—euphemisms for the employment of marabouts. Prior to their match against Cote d’Ivoire in Yamoussoukro, 12ème Gaïndé performed another religious ritual in sacrificing chickens to locals in need and inviting those around their hotel to share in their copious poulet yassa lunch.

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As we can see, football fandom in Africa transcends reacting to the action on the pitch. Instead, it is often more about displaying profound political, cultural, and religious expression. Supporters from North Africa and West Africa bring all of themselves to the stands and incorporate religious practices, political allegiances, and musical traditions into their displays of loyalty. Whether through elaborate choreographies that send global messages or the infusion of gospel music to boost morale, the unique spectacle in the stands rivals the entertainment value of the match itself. Their performances reflect not only their passion for the game, but also their connection to broader societal issues, proving that football, in Africa, is often a powerful platform for cultural identity and political expression.
 

 

[1] Saoud l'Oranais, 'Gheniet U.S.M.O' [Side 1], (Polyphon, 1934)

[2] Algerian Chaâbi (popular) is a genre of working-class music that emerged from the Casbah of Algiers at the beginning of the twentieth century. It was influenced by classic Amazigh and Arab-Andalusian melodies, although it also allows for improvisation and interpretation, by combining ancient melodies with urban lyricism. The music is composed by a band which is led by a ‘master’, who interprets social issues and imparts wisdom upon those present. Chaabi bands typically use violins, guitars, North African lutes called oud, and darbuka goblet drums.