Capello, the Mafia, and England
By Brian Phillips • Feb 7th, 2008 • Category: Media, World Football Culture • 10 responses
There are 262,000 Google search results that combine the words “Capello” and “Mafia.” “Capello” and “godfather” nets 30,000. A discussion in the comments section following a Guardian blog post by Richard Williams jokingly asks whether Capello is the long-lost son of Mussolini. The Scotsman discerns in his face “elements of a Roman emperor unlikely to grant clemency.” More than that, according to the online betting site Bodog: “Julius Caesar, Benito Mussolini, Tony Soprano, that nasty and temperamental emperor geezer off the film Gladiator…all would have been proud of Fabio Capello’s ruthless decision to leave David Beckham stranded on 99 caps.”
So here we are. I couldn’t find any published material comparing Capello to Cesare Borgia, but it’s not hard to see that England fans and the English-speaking media are turning to a particular sort of metaphor in order to conceptualize Capello’s term as manager of the England team. Capello as mob boss (”Don Fabio”), Capello as fascist dictator, Capello as Roman emperor: there’s a particular image in anglophone popular culture of a merciless, murderous, rapacious and intimidating style of Italian masculinity, and it’s in this image that Capello’s English tenure is being portrayed.
What’s odd—or perhaps not so odd, when you think about it—is that the tenor of the portrayal so far has been overwhelmingly positive. Capello is being described as a tyrant and a killer, but it would appear that he’s a tyrant and a killer in a good way. “No false Dons this time with Godfather Capello in charge,” ran one headline yesterday morning. “Capello Lays Down the Law,” was the headline on Football365. Best of all, from today’s Sun: “Fabio Capello gave England’s superstars the first taste of his iron fist last night.” If only the Ides of March weren’t coming up, they might have asked him for more.
There’s a fascinating process at work here, because what seems to be happening is that Capello’s foreignness—which was initially a subject of anxiety for a large segment of England supporters—is being run through a particular popular-culture filter that recasts it as an expression of English strength. It isn’t the real Julius Caesar, after all, to whom Capello is being compared, or the real mafia don. It’s the movie version of each, the figure through whom we’re able to indulge power fantasies and a dream of dominance without real-life moral consequences. None of these figures is foreign, really. Collectively they represent a kind of mythic caricature, rooted tightly in our own cultures, of the strong leader, the boss, the man no one dares to talk back to, the man who doesn’t care how you feel.
After England crashed out of their Euro 2008 qualifying campaign in November, there was a deep need among England supporters to see the players put in their place. This was both a strategic priority (because spoiled, pampered players whose wives travel everywhere with them aren’t strong enough to win major tournaments) and a psychological need (because spoiled, pampered players who lose tournaments are an object of contempt). When Capello arrived with his disciplinarian reputation, and then again when he acted to drop superstars from the team and set some rules to govern the other players, he tapped into a collective need to see the players punished, whether to shape them up for subsequent competition or simply to strike a punitive blow for their previous underachievement.
Capello’s role was a combination of both forms of discipline, and the speed with which the media and the fans began to see him through mafia imagery and icons from imperial Rome suggests how broadly and deeply that was felt. Capello would be the man who would hold no player in awe, who would insist on hard work and commitment; he would be the figure whom the players would have to fear. He would restore English values, in other words, to an England squad that no longer represented them.
Not only in the tone, then, but also in the concrete imagery in which Capello has been welcomed to England, there’s a kind of embalmed hostility toward the players that will be difficult to erase. Yesterday’s 2-1 win over Switzerland in Capello’s first match in charge may begin the process. But we may not have a definite sign that England have forgiven their team until they look for a different way to approve of their manager.
Brian Phillips makes the trains run on time at The Run of Play.
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Brian Phillips is a regular contributor to Pitch Invasion, and writes The Run of Play.
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Finely crafted as always, but I can’t help but thinking that you have come up with a rather subtle and nuanced reading of a phenomenon that is essentially due to the laziness (both actual and intellectual) of the large majority of English sports hacks and their resultant resort to cartoonish caricature whenever possible. Perhaps we should just be thankful that they didn’t pick Klinsmann, because thinking of what images these guys would default to when wanting to convey a picture of an authoritarian German give me the willies.
Two other points: The Don Fabio nickmame was current in Italy well before he ever crossed the Channel. In Italian usage it evokes not only Marlon Brando, but also the local pastor (all those Don Boscos you may have snickered at if you were familiar with the chooclate syrup and went to Sacred Heart or St. Anthony’s). Capello is relatively devout (at least as high level football figures are concerned) and it surely isn’t hard for one to imagine him in a cassock, peering over his spectacles and telling a trembling teenager that if he keeps it up he is going to go both blind and to hell (I expect that Cheryl Tweed has already asked him to have such a chat with Ashley Cole).
And the groundwork for the Mussolini references was certainly set during his time at Real Madrid, when he famously expressed the view that Italy could have benefitted from a similar sense of order as that imposed in Spain under Franco.
Great manager, who I am convinced will do well for England if allowed to work. Not a guy I’d like to have over for a bottle of wine and some cheese.
Ursus, I agree that Capello was always going to be portrayed through lazy nationalist caricatures, but I think it’s revealing that the media and (especially) the fans have chosen this particular set of nationalist caricatures—as opposed to various other Italian stereotypes they might have drawn from—and that they’ve done so with such relish and approval. After all, the “local pastor” connotation of “don” isn’t really present in the English coverage, and I think the tone in which people discussed, for instance, his dropping of Beckham and Owen suggests that fans saw him as a surrogate agent for their own desire to get tough with this team. Lesser managers would be scared of our superstars, they seemed to say, but the Godfather isn’t scared of anybody. A bit different from the way his dropping of Beckham at Madrid was discussed last year, even if it does draw on some of the same metaphors.
Completely agree about Klinsmann—our only hope there would be that his California New Age side would expose him to a different set of caricatures before the authoritarian ones got off the ground. Also agree about Capello over wine and cheese. Does Capello even eat cheese?
It is almost certainly true that you’ve read more of this stuff than I have, and I take your point about there being an apparent desire on the part of many England supporters to see Capello as an outsider capable of taming the Becks/WAGs/Golden Generation beast that they themselves are ultimately responsible for creating (sure it was a media construct, but the tabs never would have pushed it if it was rejected by the punters).
As to cheese, I would imagine that Don Fabio would not turn down a fine Manchego under the right circumstances, but it is perhaps significant that he comes from one of the few parts of Italy that isn’t known for its wonderful cheese.
A man who eats no cheese is inherently untrustworthy, and, worse, unItalian.
ahem. where was I.
Ah yes… my understanding was that “Don” Fabio dates from his (first) time in Spain, as a fairly straightforward pseudoaristocratic honorific?
I think that’s right,* but only remembered it after typing my initial comment (during which I had distracting Don Camillo images running through my head).
* though not as right as the thing about a man who eats no cheese, which is a FACT.
I think you’re both right about the origin of “Don Fabio”—it began in Spain and didn’t start to take on Mafia overtones (and wind up in punning Godfather headlines, etc.) until Capello went to England. At which point I think it took the Daily Express about eleven seconds to drop the first “making the players an offer they couldn’t refuse” line. Actually, I think the headline to that story was something like “GODFATHER: Capello to use iron fist to keep mob rule in check.”
In the week after his arrival you find the Sun breaking out the Italian phrasebook for “Don Fabio, capo di tutti e capi…the boss of bosses, the Godfather.” And the Daily Star: “The Godfather had made his point…. He’ll be back on January 7 to begin his reign of terror.” I’m looking at sketchy notes, but I think it was the Independent that first gleefully noted that the players’ days of entitlement and luxury would soon be sleeping with the fishes.
As for cheese, I shouldn’t slight Don Fabio by suggesting he shuns the stuff entirely. Perhaps he enjoys tiny nibbles of Asiago Pressato while he listens to the Bach cello suites, just to keep him in touch with his soul.
Fantastic analysis, Brian. Thank you.
Another great post, Brian.
Mafia or not, it is what the press made him out to be. Capello will enjoy the reputation though as the players fear for their lives under his dictatorship. Steve McClaren’s style of shoulder thumping and gatherings with WAGs in tow is disgraceful.
It is right to put some distance (an understatement) between manager and players. A player should not just perform for individual glory but he should do it with discipline and commitment and serve the team. This legacy will more than justify his salary.
I just hope the lazy English tabloid press don’t start to properly label him as ‘the Godfather’ It’s not a particularly flattering nickname to have and I’d prefer it if they were less jingoistic in their description of Fabio. He’s a great, proven, football coach and should be treated and respected as such in my opinion.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfFFaPkgKAg