By Gregorio Gastaldi
Argentina’s love affair with football began around 150 years ago when the country was building its vast railway network. Thousands of immigrant workers from Britain came to help construct these railroads. With them, they brought experience and know-how, but they also brought their hobbies and pastimes – including football.
As this railroad network developed, football pitches and clubs began springing up along its lines as Argentinian and British workers started playing together. It quickly morphed into a national obsession.
In 1893, a Scottish man named Alexander Watson Hutton founded the Argentinian Football Association (AFA) – the first FA in South America.
Over the next 150 years, Argentina’s love for football blossomed as it went on to produce some of the biggest names in world football, including Alfredo Di Stéfano, Diego Maradona, and Lionel Messi. The country is also home to some of the most iconic and recognisable football clubs in the world, such as Boca Juniors and River Plate. The cherry on top of all this is the three World Cups they have won, most recently in 2022.
Argentinians see football differently from many in the West. It is a daily part of life from infancy to adulthood – a form of culture and identity, as well as national and civic pride. Football clubs in Argentina are at the centre of their communities.
This is reflected in the ownership model for football clubs in Argentina. All clubs are run as non-profit community organisations by their members. Even the biggest and most successful clubs are not run as businesses, unlike those in most of world football.
However, there is a man who aims to change all that. You’ve likely heard of him – or at least seen pictures of him. He is the self-described “anarcho-capitalist” who has been likened to a mix between Wolverine and Donald Trump, and who has been elected President of Argentina: Javier Milei, the man taking a chainsaw to the machinery of the state.
Javier Milei became a viral sensation during his presidential campaign for his fiery rhetoric and for bringing a chainsaw to rallies – a symbol, he claimed, of how he would cut through the machinery of the state. He wants to legalise the sale of human organs, cut ties with Argentina’s biggest trading partners, Brazil and China, and abolish the Central Bank of Argentina.
The former television political pundit gained worldwide notoriety during his campaign for several bizarre outbursts, including speaking openly about his fondness for tantric sex and being seen with his five cloned dogs (who he claims are his sons and closest political confidants). He claims to be an extreme libertarian who believes in government not interfering in people’s lives, while at the same time wanting to ban abortion.
Amid a worsening financial crisis, Milei’s populist policies and eccentric personality appealed to voters, leading him to win the election and take office on December 10th, 2023. He is currently implementing a system of economic “shock treatment” in Argentina, having already earmarked 300 regulations for change within his first few weeks in office.
He wants fewer government safety nets for people and is cutting a wide range of social services, including free food programs for Argentina’s poor. He claims these policies are designed to lay “the foundations for the reconstruction of the Argentine economy and restore freedom and autonomy to individuals, removing the State from their shoulders.”
One of Milei’s most controversial moves so far is his plan to allow the privatisation of football clubs in Argentina, in a bid to prevent the state from interfering in institutions. He has described this as “necessary and urgent” and claimed there has been interest from unnamed “Arab” investors in several Argentine clubs. He also claims that BlueCo, the group that owns Chelsea Football Club, has shown interest in purchasing an Argentine team.
In a radio interview, he said he would issue a decree allowing all the nation’s non-profit civil associations to be sold off to private ownership, becoming known as Sociedad Anónima Deportiva (SAD) corporations.
He later clarified that clubs would not be forced to sell, but that the option could become available. In a statement reflecting his ideology, he justified the move by saying:
“I’m a Boca supporter, and if investment groups spend a fortune on Boca that helps Boca win all the time and River can’t win a single match against them, the question is: where do I sign?”
The AFA voted against allowing the privatisation of Argentine clubs on November 23rd – around three weeks before Milei took office – reigniting the debate. In a statement, the AFA said that Argentine football clubs were “not born to generate business and profits for people, but to provide society with services that cannot be found in other sectors.”
The AFA has long been involved in supporting children from the streets. With the current model of member-owned clubs, poorer sections of society gain access to services such as education, healthcare, and physical education through their football clubs. Milei’s proposals would fundamentally change this.
Football in Argentina would be at risk of becoming similar to the way it is in the UK, where clubs are treated as commodities and supporters are seen as passive consumers rather than active members who participate in running their clubs. Across Europe, more and more clubs have moved out of their traditional towns and cities into modern mega-stadiums on the outskirts, alienating and pricing out their traditional, often working-class, fanbases.
Clubs such as Boca Juniors, San Lorenzo, Racing, Independiente, and River Plate have all released statements condemning Milei’s proposal.
In a River Plate press release, the club said:
“Following the spirit of our founders, we reject corporations in Argentine football. River Plate is a not-for-profit Civil Association, and it will always belong to us members who have supported it.”
They elaborated on how privatisation would affect the philosophy of Argentine football:
“A zero balance sheet is a good balance sheet for a non-profit organisation. It means that it has correctly managed its income and distributed its surplus benefits and services to its members. A zero balance sheet is a bad balance sheet for a for-profit entity because it means it has not made money, which is the ultimate goal of its shareholders.”
Other clubs, such as Independiente, have been equally firm in their rejection of privatisation:
“That is what our statute says, and we will never change it. The club belongs to its members.”
As well as club statements, several Argentinian footballers – including 1978 World Cup winners Ubaldo Fillol and Jorge Olguín – released a joint statement and petition urging people to vote against Milei during the election. They wrote:
“Our clubs are not businesses and are supported by the voluntary effort of men and women driven by commitment, solidarity, and conviction. We are not guided by market rules.”
Milei’s friend and political ally Mauricio Macri ran in 2023 to become Boca Juniors president on a pro-privatisation platform and lost resoundingly, rejected by Boca supporters who are clearly opposed to any degree of privatisation at their club. Does this suggest that Milei is out of touch with many ordinary Argentinians? Boca Juniors are Argentina’s biggest club and represent a broad segment of society – a warning sign Milei might do well to heed.
The not-for-profit model of running a club is a romantic one, but many Argentine clubs are struggling financially. Outside the top league, the country’s football infrastructure is often shabby and in need of refurbishment. Argentine clubs struggle to retain top players, who frequently move to Europe at a young age for higher wages and greater exposure.
Milei argues that the Argentinian state is in poor economic condition and shouldn’t have to fund these clubs when wealthy foreign investors are willing to inject much-needed money into the country.
It’s easy to see why more money in Argentine football might sound appealing, but Argentina has the advantage of seeing what happened in Europe once big money took over. For many football supporters, losing a club’s culture and identity is not worth the trade-off for winning more trophies. To club owners and shareholders, winning is everything – but to members, winning titles is a bonus, not the be-all and end-all.
In an interview with Argentine journalist Alejandro Fantino, Milei argued:
“Who the hell cares who the owner is if you beat River Plate 5-0 and are world champion? Or would you rather stay in this misery, with increasingly worse football? Would you rather lose 4-0 to AC Milan but still say ‘I’m national and popular’? Rather than dealing them an epic defeat?”
This quote highlights how out of touch he is with football supporters, who are not willing to swap their club’s ownership and community for success if it means losing their identity.
Only time will tell how this situation develops. Argentina is one of the most football-obsessed nations on the planet, and Milei might be wise not to anger the football community in his country. His policies towards football are just one example of how he plans to radically reshape Argentina’s economy, politics, and culture.
Argentina is suffering from an ongoing financial crisis, and Milei will attempt to address it through extreme neoliberal reforms. Some of his policies may work and some may not, but one thing is certain – Argentina will be a very different country by the end of his term.
The push to privatise football clubs is just one part of a huge, complex political shift taking place in Argentina – one that, for now, appears to be completely opposed by fans and clubs alike. Yet the seed has been planted, and the debate will continue. Argentinian football supporters will eventually have to ask themselves: Is domestic success worth it if it means selling the soul of your club?
