Fandom morphs into misogyny in Bangladesh's unsporting spectacles

The roar of the crowd, the vibrant jerseys, the collective breath held in anticipation of a goal, the Fifa World Cup is a global carnival, a testament to humanity's shared passion for sport. Yet, beneath this veneer of universal camaraderie, a darker narrative often unfolds, particularly in nations like Bangladesh.

Here, the beautiful game, regrettably, becomes a grotesque stage for the public humiliation and objectification of women. This is not merely an unfortunate byproduct of fervent fandom; it is a profound societal malady, demanding urgent introspection and culminating in actionable solutions for our beloved Sonar Bangla.

Consider a recent, deeply unsettling anecdote from Dhaka University that I recount personally. During the Brazil vs Norway match, two university students, one wearing Brazil's jersey, navigated the bustling streets towards a public screening at TSC.

What should have been a joyous expression of shared enthusiasm quickly devolved into a harrowing ordeal. A rickshaw puller, emboldened by the chaotic anonymity of the crowd, began to taunt the young woman with crude remarks, specifically targeting her jersey: "Seven Up, Seven Up!"

Later, as they walked, other strangers joined the chorus of harassment, querying, "Sister, will you have 7Up?" This seemingly innocuous banter, a perverse form of eve-teasing, is anything but harmless. It is a stark manifestation of a pervasive cultural pathology, a public assault on dignity that leaves indelible psychological scars.

Such incidents are fertile ground for examining group dynamics and the erosion of social norms. Large public gatherings, especially those charged with intense emotional energy like a World Cup celebration, can trigger a phenomenon known as deindividuation. Individuals, subsumed by the collective identity of the crowd, feel a diminished sense of personal responsibility and accountability. The anonymity offered by the throng, coupled with the heightened emotional state, lowers inhibitions, paving the way for behaviours that would be unthinkable in isolation. Fan culture, while nurturing solidarity, can also become a breeding ground for toxic masculinity, where aggressive displays and misogynistic rhetoric are not only tolerated but sometimes implicitly encouraged as markers of group loyalty and masculine prowess.

Even more insidious, perhaps, is the digital dimension of this misogyny. Social media platforms, ostensibly spaces for connection and expression, become conduits for a particularly vile form of harassment.

Abbreviated names of footballing nations, such as AFA (Argentina), BRA (Brazil), POR (Portugal), and SEN (Senegal), are deliberately juxtaposed to form a deeply derogatory and sexually suggestive interrogative sentence. This linguistic manipulation, crafted into short-form content and widely shared, transforms national pride into an instrument of gendered abuse. The chilling aspect is not just the content itself, but the widespread acceptance and even enjoyment of such material, often dismissed with a shrug as a "global social media joke". This defence is a terrible abdication of moral responsibility, masking profound disrespect under the guise of humour.

The "toxic jock" theory posits that hegemonic masculinity, often characterised by dominance and aggression, becomes deeply intertwined with sporting identity, sometimes overshadowing the sport itself. In Bangladesh, where football fandom reaches a fever pitch, this collective effervescence can tragically mutate into a license for public harassment, transforming women into mere objects for male gaze and commentary.

The psychological impact of such public harassment is profound and far-reaching. Catcalling, as research unequivocally demonstrates, is not a trivial annoyance; it inflicts significant emotional and mental distress. Victims often experience heightened anxiety, a pervasive sense of fear, and hypervigilance in public spaces, constantly scanning their surroundings for potential threats. This constant state of alert is exhausting, eroding their sense of safety and freedom.

The objectification inherent in these remarks can lead to negative body image issues and diminished self-esteem, as women are reduced to their physical appearance, their agency stripped away. The casual nature of the harassment, often dismissed as "just a joke", belies its insidious power to create a hostile environment, promoting a culture where women are perpetually reminded of their vulnerability and subordinate status.

Bangladesh, like many South Asian societies, operates within a predominantly patriarchal framework where traditional gender roles are deeply entrenched. Public spaces are often implicitly, if not explicitly, coded as male domains. Women who venture into these spaces, particularly during events perceived as masculine (like sports), may be seen as transgressing unspoken boundaries, thereby becoming targets for correction or assertion of male dominance.

"Muslim-majority country" invites reflection on how cultural interpretations of modesty and public interaction, sometimes misconstrued, can inadvertently contribute to a climate where women's presence in public is scrutinised and policed. This is not to indict any faith, but to acknowledge how cultural narratives, when distorted, can perpetuate harmful gender norms.

Recently, media reports alleged that former students of the university were harassed inside Shahidullah Hall by the hall students' union's social service secretary. The former students were reportedly confronted solely because a woman was present on the hall premises at night.

When women and gender-sensitive student leaders protested the incident by announcing a nighttime football watch gathering inside the hall, a plan publicised on social media, they were met with a barrage of abhorrent comments. Among them were remarks such as, "Don't complain if women get raped", and, "If women come to watch the match, I'll attend wearing only my underwear".

Catcalls and crude remarks are not merely expressions of opinion; they are acts of symbolic violence. These utterances, though seemingly informal, serve to establish and reinforce power hierarchies. They are a form of discourse of dominance, where the harassers, through their unsolicited comments, assert their perceived right to comment on and control women's bodies and public presence. The communication is asymmetrical; the harassers speak, and the victims are expected to endure in silence. This one-sided exchange silences women, denying them their voice and agency in public spaces, effectively communicating that their comfort and safety are secondary to male prerogative.

The normalisation of public harassment during events like the World Cup is not an isolated issue; it is a symptom of deeper societal inequities. It undermines women's participation in public life, stifles their freedom of movement, and perpetuates a culture of fear. It tarnishes Bangladesh's image on the global stage, presenting a stark contrast to the nation's aspirations for progress and modernity.

Addressing this multifaceted problem requires concerted efforts at both micro and macro levels.

At the micro-level, individual and community actions are paramount. We must cultivate a culture of bystander intervention, empowering individuals to challenge and report harassment when they witness it. Education within families and schools is crucial, fostering respect for women and promoting healthy expressions of masculinity from a young age. Fan groups themselves can play a pivotal role by actively promoting inclusive and respectful fan cultures, where passion for the game does not translate into aggression towards others, especially women. Encouraging open dialogue about the psychological harm of catcalling can help shift perceptions, moving it from a "joke" to a serious offence. Young men must be taught that their enthusiasm for sport does not grant them licence to demean others; true sportsmanship extends beyond the field.

On the macro level, systemic changes are indispensable. The government and law enforcement agencies must implement and rigorously enforce laws against public harassment, ensuring swift and visible justice for perpetrators. Public awareness campaigns, utilising mass media and social platforms, can challenge prevailing patriarchal norms and highlight the detrimental effects of misogynistic behaviour. Educational reforms should integrate gender sensitivity and equality into curricula, shaping a generation that values respect and inclusivity. Urban planning must prioritise the creation of safe, well-lit, and accessible public spaces for women. Furthermore, sports organisations and media outlets have a responsibility to promote positive fan engagement and condemn all forms of harassment, using their platforms to advocate for a more equitable sporting environment. It is imperative that universities, like Dhaka University, take proactive measures to ensure the safety of their students and control external elements during public events, creating secure spaces for all.

The demeaning of women during the World Cup in Bangladesh is a poignant reflection of deeper societal challenges. It is a call to action, a cri de cœur, for every citizen to champion respect, dignity, and equality. Only by confronting these uncomfortable truths and implementing comprehensive solutions can we ensure that the joy of sport is truly universal, untainted by the shadows of misogyny, allowing all to partake in its glory without fear or humiliation. Let us strive for a Bangladesh where the cheers for a goal are never drowned out by the whispers of harassment, where every woman can walk freely, her spirit unburdened, her dignity inviolable.

The author is a Master's student in Mass Communication and Journalism at the University of Dhaka. He is a professional journalist serving as the Dhaka University Correspondent for The Daily Observer. He also serves as the Finance Secretary of the Dhaka University Journalists' Association (Duja). Additionally, he is an Ascend Programme Fellow at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health.