Love for the Turkish National Team: A Fragile Illusion

April 13, 2026

F Soccer World Cup 2002. Quarterfinal against Senegal. In extra time Ümit Davala crosses from the right. Beşiktaş forward Ilhan Mansız frees himself from his opponent and converts the flat cross directly at the first touch of the ball with the inside of his foot — a masterful touch and the only possible finish, past the motionless goalkeeper into the net. A perfect strike. Golden Goal.

Turkey reaches the semi-finals. I am twelve years old and absorb the excitement on the streets, the sense of unity and pure happiness. Everything is red and white—with no ulterior motives. Maybe I will never experience something like that again. A few months later, the party came to power that has ruled Turkey to this day.

Since 2002 the Turkish national team has not qualified for a World Cup. If they win that evening’s playoff against Kosovo, they head to the tournament that takes place in the summer on the American continent. That feeling of belonging back then has become foreign to me. For no matter how much football promises this feeling — in the end it is always permeated by politics and corruption. Unlike Mansiz’s goal against Austria, Merih Demiral’s goal at Euro 2024 left a bitter aftertaste because of his far-right salute.

Nevertheless, tonight we sit in a tiny Irish bar, three of us, far from our own neighborhoods. Perhaps we long to return to our childhood while watching the game and at the same time dream of traveling to the World Cup in Mexico. Could we do that? If we could raise 10,000 euros, would we then be able to support the Turkish national team with a clear conscience? Who cares! This country belongs to us as well.

Every Win Strengthens the System

We have no problem with the team itself, but with the values of those who appropriate them for themselves. Every victory strengthens an autocratic regime that punishes dissent. While opponents and journalists friendly to the regime sit in prison, the desire to be part of it endures.

To endure this contradiction, we deceive ourselves: the players are—apart from one—an uncorrupted generation that has so far resisted instrumentalization. So far! Some players from the previous generation had released a support video for the government during the referendum that enabled the shift toward an authoritarian presidential system in Turkey.

To keep the illusion alive for us, there must be no more far-right salutes; perhaps we even downplay Demiral’s 2024 gesture. After all, every country has rights and authoritarian tendencies. This illusion is so fragile that, in order to keep it alive in the name of love for football, it also means constantly making concessions. For example, when political staging occurs in the stands during a game against the USA. Erdoğan and Trump together. While war rages in Iran, one must pretend nothing is happening and grant credit to another autocrat.

Ultimately there remains a strange protective mechanism, one that all football fans can only dream of; a hypocrisy that is a side effect of all this back-and-forth: When Turkey wins, we rejoice. When it loses, we are not sad. How convenient. Turkey scores — 1:0, Turkey goes to the World Cup. The joy is brief. Silence at the table. Was that really our wish? No one talks about Mexico anymore, and not just because of the 10,000 euros.

Evelyn Hartwell

Evelyn Hartwell

My name is Evelyn Hartwell, and I am the editor-in-chief of BIMC Media. I’ve dedicated my career to making global news accessible and meaningful for readers everywhere. From New York, I lead our newsroom with the belief that clear journalism can connect people across borders.