Copa Libertadores final emerges from flames of unrest
The decision to play this year’s Copa Libertadores final, the first ever one-legged decider in the competition’s history, in Santiago appeared logical. The city’s Estadio Nacional was newly renovated and Chile hadn’t had a finalist since 1993, so a comfortable and neutral ground for the final was all but assured. And, perhaps more importantly, Chile was still the mark of dependability in a perennially unstable region.
After all, Chileans are known as the Germans of Latin America – the stereotype portrays them as stoical and organised – and economically the country saw a drop in its poverty rate from 30% to 6.4% in just 17 years. Conmebol was desperate to right last year’s debacle that forced the final from Argentina to Madrid, and Santiago looked like the perfect venue for the association to showcase its premier product to the global market.
And then, in one afternoon this October, the plan fell apart and, for the second year in a row, Conmebol was forced to move the final thousands of kilometres from its original venue. It all started when a government decision to hike subway fares by 30 Chilean pesos (four US cents) dug up the inequality that had been festering in the country for decades, despite apparent outward progress. Students started jumping subway turnstiles in protest, and huge crowds took to the streets with chants of “It’s not 30 pesos, it’s 30 years”, a reference to the length of discontent in the country. Twenty-two subway stations were torched, and a state of emergency was declared. On the football field, the Chilean league was suspended.
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For sympathisers, the violence and President Sebastián Piñera’s response – he described the country being “at war against a very powerful enemy” – brought back unwelcome memories of the authoritarian government of Augusto Pinochet in the 1970s. The Estadio Nacional also holds its own ghosts. After the 1973 coup that brought Pinochet to power, thousands of his opponents were imprisoned in the stadium – with scores tortured, beaten or executed.
Still, despite the turmoil, the Chilean government pressed on with plans for the final. “It’s a great sporting festivity that does good to the country,” said Cecilia Pérez, the Chilean sports minister, just a week after protestors had been shot. River Plate manager Marcelo Gallardo, whose team will play Flamengo in the final, expressed his concern saying the “game falls into the background”, behind the social unrest.
And football began to feel that unrest. Bolivia and Peru cancelled friendlies against Chile due to the strife on the streets of Chile. “If we are not capable of organizing and producing our national football tournament, forget about something international,” said Santiago’s mayor, Felipe Guevara Stephens.
On 5 November, with just 18 days to go until the final, Conmebol announced it was moving the match to Peru – the venue would be Lima’s Estadio Monumental. Maybe the locals would have sympathised with Chileans: Lima lost both the 2019 Pan-American Games and the Under-17 World Cup to governmental instability. “We wish the Chilean people and their authorities peace and goodwill,’’ stated Conmebol’s press release.
It’s a decision that makes sense in many ways. The Estadio Monumental seats 30,000 more spectators than the Estadio Nacional and, with the event depoliticised, Conmebol circumvented a grave PR crisis. The Chilean public can turn their attention away from a flaring wound and forward to the April referendum that will let them vote on how their Pinochet-era constitution will be replaced.
Another crisis has bloomed though. Thousands of fans had already booked travel and accommodation to Chile, no mean feat on a continent where long-distance journeys aren’t as easy as in Europe or North America. For example, Flamengo struck a deal with a Brazilian bus company, offering fans travel from Río de Janeiro to Lima for 10 reales ($2.40). The only catch: the journey will take three days. And then there’s the atmosphere in the stadium itself. Each team has been allotted 12,500 tickets, a measly slice of the Estadio Monumental’s 80,000 capacity. Fans were already unhappy that flares and banners have been outlawed at Libertadores matches, a move some see as creating a safer, more welcome environment but one that others believe will create a blander experience for supporters.
Saturday’s match has been dubbed as Final Única – the “Unique Final” - and that is certainly true for all that has happened in the last few months. What is more predictable is the teams themselves: last year’s champions against a Brazilian giant, which is flourishing financially.
The strength of both teams mean this match could become an instant classic, and give the tournament the global recognition Conmebol craves. But ultimately, it will always be South American, and unpredictable like its home.
