Reaching the Portuguese–Speaking World through the Excitement of Football

The regional preliminary competitions have already begun as we move toward the 2018 FIFA World Cup Russia.

Vahid Halilhodzic, the new head coach for Japan, is from the former Yugoslavia. I was a fan of the previous coach, Ivan Osim, who is also from that country; I have the impression that somehow Eastern European coaches suit the Japanese team. So I have high hopes for them right now, even though their performance in the EAFF East Asian Cup in China at the beginning of August seems to have dented their reputation a bit.

I recall that before the 2014 World Cup in Brazil, several Japanese players made rash comments about winning the cup, and were roundly criticized after they were defeated. There's nothing wrong with setting your sights high, so their remarks were understandable, but from today's perspective it is highly doubtful that the attitude of these players was positive. Hopefully the members of the team will be able to keep their motivation high while still staying calm and focused so they can achieve better results this time.

Since I support not only the Japanese team but the Brazilian and Portuguese teams as well, following the World Cup is always exciting–full of thrills and chills for me from the qualifying matches onward. Obviously I always cheer for my favorite teams to become the qualifiers, but things don't always go as I hope. I would welcome some advice on how to lessen the anxiety and heartbreak I feel during the qualifying matches. This time Portugal has been extremely fortunate in the teams it is matched with in the preliminary competitions, so I may be able to rest easier in that regard. On the other hand, I have some concerns about how the Japanese team will do, and I am also a bit worried about Brazil, which prior to this World Cup have always made it to the qualifying rounds–in the 2015 Copa America matches in June, however, the Brazilian team weren't performing at their best for sure.

I am often regarded as something of a football expert, and while I have nothing against that notion, my real area of expertise is in the analysis of what are called creole languages—languages that are formed from the confluence of two or more different languages—and particularly field research on the linguistic situation in the Portuguese-speaking countries of Africa. This has gradually led me to a broader interest in the culture and history of Portugal itself.

Yet, the reason I decided to specialize in the study of Portuguese in the first place was the excitement I felt over Brazil's performance in the 1970 World Cup, and later, when I was studying abroad in Lisbon and watched a Christmas derby match between two local teams in a stadium full of wild and passionate fans, I was completely captivated by Portuguese football.

I am currently the director of the European Institute at Sophia University. In addition to offering comprehensive studies of European politics, economics, culture, and history, I make sure to create plenty of occasions to include European football as well, needless to say.

The biggest attraction of Portuguese football is the tremendous skill of the players; they have exceptionally refined technique. The Portuguese players often claim that some northern European players, like the Germans, are tall but clumsy.

The Portuguese players tend to be built a little smaller, a disadvantage in a head-on confrontation, so one of their typical tactics is to cut in from the side. Cristiano Ronaldo, widely regarded as a genius player, is an example of a side attacker. Portugal has a long history of football, and of technically skillful players, but in the 20th century it only qualified for two World Cups, in 1966 and 1986. Perhaps this is due to an unfortunate characteristic which the Portuguese themselves admit to having the tendency to choke in critical situations. But to me their fragility and even their defeats are noble. Their flaws are part of the charm of Portuguese football. It is both beautiful and sad. In practical terms, the major problems seem to be a disorganized football association and infighting among the clubs.

Perhaps because these issues were finally being addressed, in the 21st century Portugal has made it into every World Cup and it has edged out France for fifth place in the UEFA national rankings. This is enormous progress.

Unfortunately, in Japan at this point it is rare to even get Portuguese football news or live broadcasts of their matches. It is clear that one of the reasons for this is that there is little exchange of players between the two countries. I had high hopes when Junya Tanaka joined Sporting Lisbon last year, but recently these hopes were dashed when the news came in that the new coach would make Tanaka fourth choice as forward, meaning that he would have little chance even to warm the bench. Unfortunately, it also seems that the rumor of Takashi Usami joining FC Porto was completely groundless.

However, it looks like the Portugal U21 squad anchored by William Carvalho, who is a really strong player, is already slated to go to the Rio Olympics next year. If Japan also sends a national team and the two teams wind up competing directly against one another, I will be excited to watch the match. I hope such an occasion will provide an opportunity for more attention to be given here in Japan to the Portuguese football I love so dearly.

Of course, I am also hoping that people will expand their interest beyond just football to include the country of Portugal and its culture as a whole.

About the only appearance Portugal makes in Japanese history textbooks is during the sixteenth century–the great Age of Exploration and Japan's Warring States period, when the Portuguese brought the first firearms to Japan. So when most Japanese hear the word Portugal, they either think of early modern trade ships or, much more recently, the negative image of Portugal being one of the EU's economic problem children. But for me, the modern and contemporary history of Portugal is so rich and interesting that even if I were to spend my whole life studying about it it wouldn't be enough.

At about the same time that Hitler seized power in Germany, Prime Minister António de Oliveira Salazar established an authoritarian regime that would survive World War II to last for almost half a century. Then, in 1974, a military coup toppled the dictatorship and initiated what is called the Carnation Revolution or the April 25 Revolution. Have you heard of it?

On April 25, 1974, at the signal of a specific song played on the radio after midnight, the coup was set in motion, and by evening it was over, virtually without bloodshed. In the midst of it, one of the soldiers asked a girl selling flowers by the roadside for a cigarette. She didn’t have one, and gave him a carnation instead. The soldier stuck it in the barrel of his gun; other soldiers imitated him, and it became the symbol of the successful revolution. I find it quite romantic. Don’t you agree? It is also known as the “flower and music revolution.”

Portugal may not be a key country for Japan in political and economic terms. But back in the great Age of Exploration, Portugal created a huge linguistic sphere that was the forerunner of contemporary globalization. It happens that last year Japan was given special status as an associate observer in the Community of Portuguese Language Countries, which is comprised of Brazil and many other member states in Africa and Asia. Among the various foreign policy efforts of the present Japanese government, I give this one high marks.

I would also like to add in closing that the Department of Luso–Brazilian Studies at Sophia University offers a curriculum enabling study of the society and culture of the entire Lusophone (Portuguese–speaking) world.