White Hart Lane has witnessed many incredible scenes since 5,000 supporters first entered
the stadium for a friendly against Notts County on September 4, 1899.
The 13-2 victory against Crewe in a 1960 FA Cup match. Diego Maradona wearing a Spurs
shirt for Ossie Ardiles’ 1986 testimonial. Paul Gascoigne scoring against Arsenal in
1988 despite losing a boot. The club’s ecstatic tickertape farewell at the end of the 2017
season. These are all spectacular snapshots in time.
But not even the memory of their North London rivals using the stadium for their home games
during World War II can compete with the sight of a single Swastika fluttering innocently
above the West Stand for a game in December, 1935.
This was surely the most incredulous and profoundly political sight witnessed at the home of Tottenham
Hotspur until its recent demolition. How did this happen? It’s all explained by the rise
of fascism, which, for a period in the mid-30s, cast the game as a tool of propaganda instead
of a sport of beauty.
The roots of this highly contentious moment can be traced back to the Italian dictator,
Benito Mussolini, widely considered the first political leader to recognise the manipulative
power of 22 men chasing a ball around a pitch in their nation’s colours.
Angela Teja, from the National Olympic Academy, Italy, confirmed that Mussolini “had a desire
to propagate his image of the ‘new Italian’ as courageous, physically attractive, vigorous,
sporting.” If you could move an entire stadium by scoring a goal, why stop there, he reasoned.
The record books may show that the 1934 World Cup was won on home soil by Italy but that
tells only the sporting story. Keen to cement support for his fascist regime, “Il Duce”
is alleged to have fixed the tournament, enforcing a vision of success designed to reverberate
far beyond Rome’s Stadio Nazionale PNF.
It was here that the Azzurri triumphed 2-1 against Czechoslovakia on a sweltering day
otherwise remembered for their unchallenged physical approach. The referee, Ivan Eklind,
had also overseen Italy’s semi-final against Austria and, according to folklore, improbably
dined out with Mussolini before the game and actually headed the ball to one of the Italian
players during the match.
Elsewhere in Europe, Adolf Hitler’s Nazi dictatorship had already proved itself skilled
in the art of propaganda and, taking inspiration from Mussolini to mirror their warped political
alliance, saw an opportunity to promote his equally divisive worldview.
In 1935, after two years in power and controversy surrounding many of their policies, particularly
the treatment of Jews, the British government remained conciliatory towards Hitler’s National
Socialists and agreed to stage a friendly in London between England and Germany.
To widespread dismay and reflecting the local community’s enduring Jewish fanbase, White
Hart Lane was announced as the venue. “Tottenham Hotspur will be holding the bag for Nazi advertisement”,
warned the secretary of the Edmonton and District Sunday Football League.
However, the Tottenham Weekly Herald reported a range of alternative views, underlining
how divided and polluted this issue was, even in London.
“The Spurs will always find enough English support without worrying about the ‘Yids’...
it will be very nice to watch an English match with only English supporters,” wrote one
reader under a headline of “England For England”.
Despite the controversy, which saw the British Anti-Nazi Council distribute 15,000 protest
postcards, a swastika was raised above the stadium and the game went ahead on December
4.
“We have nothing to do with governments. Herr Hitler has sent us no message. We are
here as sportsmen to play football against the best in the world,” said captain Fritz
Szepan, who led his team in delivering a “Heil Hitler” salute ahead of kick off.
The events were documented in a fascinating, if now dumfounding, British Pathé film, entitled:
"You can always tell a good Nazi by his cap". It captures the otherwise reassuringly monochrome
scenes as fans gathered for the match, which England won 3-0.
However, there is no documentary evidence of Spurs fan Ernie Wooley, who reportedly
clambered up a drainpipe to cut the Swastika down or the FA raising a toast to Hitler at
a gala reception at the Hotel Victoria. “Germany's political soldiers of the Führer had won”,
announced his press officer.
At tensions continued to grow and conflict became increasingly inevitable, Hitler looked
to transfer the momentum behind his deranged politics onto a global stage, as Berlin hosted
the 1936 Olympic Games. It was, according to the BBC documentary Fascism and Football,
“the most successful exploitation of a sporting event for political ends in history”.
But despite the host nation topping the medals table, his plan did not go entirely to plan.
In a sporting event notable for the number of nations who refused to take part, black
US athlete Jesse Owens famously subverted the Nazi narrative to claim four gold medals.
By the time Germany and England met again on a football pitch, Neville Chamberlain's
government had resorted to a policy of appeasement towards Hitler. Unwittingly, he stood accused
of legitimising the regime, as the two teams emerged before a 115,000 crowd in Berlin on
May 14, 1938.
English captain Eddie Hapgood and his team, which included Stanley Matthews, issued Nazi
salutes at the Olympic Stadium, just two months after the German annexation of Austria.
The gesture, officially endorsed by the Foreign Office, prompted international outrage. In
this moment, like the circling fascists and dictators, British football itself used the
sport as a tool of propaganda. The two countries would officially be at war little more than
12 months later.