Abstract
This article provides an analysis of how Nigerian women migrants are represented and constructed as racial others by officials in the Scandinavian football clubs that recruit and employ them. Situated against scholarship on race, gender, and sport, within and outside the Scandinavian region, we highlight consistencies in stereotypical representations of black athletes. We use theories of racialisation to draw attention to how ideas about race and gender are mutually imbricated in shaping Scandinavian representations of Nigerian women football migrants. Based on interviews with Scandinavian football club officials, and Nigerian women football migrants, we expose and critique the ways in which Nigerian women’s migration as professionals, and their competencies as athletes, are constantly undermined by racially inscribed representations.
Introduction
I went to Nigeria actually on a visit. And I came back, and I was at the airport just getting my luggage and I was coming out of the terminal and then the police stopped me. And they [said] ‘Open your bag’. And I got pissed because there was like a lot of white people going and nobody was stopped but me … ‘Why did you pick me?’ And they said ‘we just pick randomly’. I said, ‘because I’m coloured or what?’… ‘What are you doing in [Scandinavia]?’ I’m like, ‘what did you see there [in my bag]? Those are boots. What did you see?’ And he’s like, ‘you play football? Where do you play football?’… And I’m like, ‘I play football and I play on this team’ and … you could just see that they were not convinced, and I was getting mad you know, like I was really pissed … ‘yes we’ve had a lot of people say they play football but they come here to prostitute’, and I flipped. (Desiree)
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The Scandinavian countries have historically been assumed to be characterised by ethnic and cultural uniformity (Necef, 2001), although streams of emigration and immigration have been central in the development of modern Nordic society (Coleman and Wadensjö, 1999). In all three Scandinavian countries, self-representations as being liberal, tolerant and multicultural societies predominate. Media representations in Norway, for example, have contributed to the maintenance of a self-image as being a leading provider of development aid, and superpower of human rights (Browning, 2007; Gullestad, 2004). Ideals of ‘egalitarianism, social democracy, internationalist solidarism, and gender equality are also terms linked with the Nordic region’ (Sawyer and Habel, 2014: 1).
In the last decade, however, scholars utilising critical feminist and postcolonial perspectives have begun to deconstruct notions of Scandinavian exceptionalism and colour-blindness, illustrating, for example, that race and skin colour have been fundamentally important in boundary-making processes (Andersson, 2008; Hübinette and Tigervall, 2009; Sawyer and Habel, 2014). Hübinette and Tigervall (2009) argue that, in Sweden, a self-image based on social justice, gender equality and of being a post-racial utopia, has muted public and academic engagements with discussions of race and racism.
In this article, we provide an analysis of how Nigerian women migrants are represented and constructed as racial others, by officials in the Scandinavian football clubs that recruit and employ them. We provide an analysis of the process of racialisation, drawing particular attention to how ideas about race and gender are mutually imbricated in shaping Scandinavian understandings and representations of Nigerian women football migrants. We draw on Fanon’s (2008 [1952])) argument that the Other, quite apart from their actual experience, is defined by a ‘historico-racial schema’, in a manner wherein blackness is presumed to be already known. Of particular relevance to our analysis of sports labour migration is the way in which this schema rests on ‘a gaze that insists upon the power to make others conform, to perform endlessly in the prison of prior expectation’ (Williams, 1997: 74).
Although some scholars have considered the role of sport in identity making among migrants, only a few key studies have shed light on experiences of racialisation and racist practices in Scandinavian sports (e.g. Andersson, 2008; Massao and Fasting, 2010; Scott, 2015). Massao and Fasting (2010) argue that practices of racial stacking and myths about the superior athletic capacity of black athletes render the successes of black athletes in certain sports (such as football and track and field) as expected rather than the result of hard work and training. It is against this backdrop that we aim to make a contribution to emerging scholarship on the intersections of race, gender and sport in the Scandinavian context. We contend, along with Adjepong and Carrington (2014: 170) that, also in the Scandinavian context, the rhetoric of colour-blindness is ‘increasingly able to produce racist effects whilst simultaneously denying that racism exists as a meaningful aspect of contemporary “post-racial” societies’.
Perspectives from research on race, gender and sport
The significance of racial, ethnic, gendered, and national lines on processes of identity and group boundary making has been a concern of sport studies scholars since the 1990s. Sociological studies of sport and race have variously drawn on critical race theory (cf. Hylton, 2010, 2015; Massao and Fasting, 2010), established-outsider relations (cf. Dunning, 1992; Maguire, 1991) postcolonial theory (cf. Darnell, 2007; Darnell and Hayhurst, 2012) and, more recently, intersectional feminist theory (cf. Adjepong and Carrington, 2014; Douglas, 2002, 2005; Douglas and Jamieson, 2006; McDonald, 2012, 2014). An early, though still key, concern in research on sport and race has been the exploration of racial stereotypes and ‘racial stacking’; the ways in which racial imaginaries and categorisations affect the distribution of athletes in different positions on the field (Coakley, 1998; Hylton, 2008; King, 2004; Maguire, 1991). Although most research on racial stacking has traditionally focussed on male sports in North America, similar trends can also be found, for example in men’s Australian Rules Football (Hallinan et al., 1999; Hallinan and Judd, 2009) and women’s netball in Europe (Chappel et al., 2004).
Most research on racial stacking in sports has illustrated that through processes of stacking ‘racialised Others were less likely to be viewed as important, thinking, central players but more likely as physical, unintelligent, peripheral players’ (Hylton, 2008: 7). Processes of racial stacking have been maintained and perpetuated by popular beliefs concerning the superior athletic abilities but inferior mental capabilities of black athletes (Carrington, 2010, 2013; Hylton, 2008; McDonald, 2012). Douglas (2002) argues that, as a result of the persistence of racialised stereotypes, black sporting bodies currently have ‘a particular cultural currency in the popular imagination, and much is at stake in maintaining beliefs about black athletic superiority’ (2.3).
Susan Birrell, as early as 1990, lamented the absence of black women’s voices and experiences in sport scholarship, yet it was only 10 years later that scholarship incorporating the experiences of black women in sport started to emerge. While many studies of sport and race had previously focussed on men, perpetuating the construction of black sportsmen as universal subjects (Carrington, 1998), studies of gender and sexuality in sport, have tended to focus on the experiences of white women (Douglas and Jamieson, 2006).
In response, the early 2000s saw the emergence of intersectional analyses of sport management and participation (Scraton et al., 2005), including the construction and experience of black sportswomen (Adjepong and Carrington, 2014; Douglas, 2002, 2005) and the invisibility and normativity of whiteness in sport (Adjepong, 2015; Douglas, 2005; McDonald, 2012, 2014). In their examinations of women’s football in England, Scraton et al. (2005) illustrated that, by utilising intersectional analyses sport scholarship could start to engage more meaningfully with the complexity of black women’s experiences in sport, without essentialising difference(s), and/or reducing black women’s experiences to victimhood.
More recently, research has started to move beyond analyses of race and gender to critically examine the universality and invisibility of whiteness in the world of sport (Hylton, 2008; McDonald, 2012, 2014). Adjepong (2015: 10), in her study of women’s rugby in the United States, illustrates how white privilege can facilitate and legitimate transgressions of gender and sexual norms and expectations in sports. A key component of white privilege in sport is the ability to act and be seen as ‘just people’, not a racialised being that is seen as representative (only) of one’s own racial grouping (Douglas, 2005; Dyer, 1997; Hylton, 2008).
The myth of natural black athleticism is also a deeply gendered discourse (Azzarito and Harrison, 2008), wherein black women are represented as being inherently masculine and powerful (Vertinsky and Captain, 1998), and hence positioned outside dominant definitions of womanhood (Douglas, 2002). Delia Douglas (2005) has explored the normativity of whiteness to draw attention to how everyday practices of racialisation give rise to dehumanising and humiliating representations of black women athletes. Adjepong and Carrington (2014: 170) argue that black sportswomen are faced with ‘a different set of assumptions than white women about their femininity (or lack thereof) and their sporting ability’. Hence, they expose how norms and expectations around sporting femininities are deeply centred around norms of white, heterosexual and middle-class femininity.
Recent scholarship on race and gender in sport has made a significant contribution to new knowledge production by exposing the salience of representational regimes that portray black sportswomen through racial stereotypes. Moreover, this set of scholarship has also engaged critically with the agency and resistance of black women athletes in relation to racist and sexist stereotypes, and shown how ‘controlling images’ are resisted and reshaped by athletes themselves (Adjepong and Carrington, 2014; Douglas, 2002).
Engaging racialisation
In this article, we use the concept of racialisation to explore when and how ‘race’ is articulated in Scandinavian football clubs’ representations of, and engagements with, Nigerian women footballers. As a general term, racialisation refers to ‘a process of categorization, a representational process of defining an Other (usually but not exclusively) somatically—[it] is a dialectical process in which the defining of others necessarily entails the definition of a sense of Self’ (Miles, 1989: 75). To explore the process of racial exchange(s) in Scandinavian women’s football, we draw on Didier Fassin’s ‘three-persons approach’ to racialisation. Fassin (2011: 422) argues that, following racialisation, three ‘persons’ are paradigmatically present: the first person who ascribes a racial qualification, the second person who recognizes herself as racialised, and a third person who objectifies and accounts for the racial interaction.
The foundational acts of racialisation, racial identification and ascription, involve two of these figures; the person who does the racialisation, and the person who is racialised. However, through identifying an ‘other’, the first person also reveals her or his own racial positioning. In this article, we explore this positioning through analysing how whiteness is reproduced as an invisible norm when Scandinavian club officials identify and ascribe otherness and difference to Nigerian women footballers. It is through naming whiteness, and exploring the process through which its normativity and invisibility is sustained, that the authority of whiteness can begin to be challenged (Dyer, 1997; Frankenberg, 1993).
Fassin’s (2011) approach to racialisation requires that the third ‘figure on the scene’ – the observer who accounts for the racialised interaction and gives it ‘a public life’ (425) – also engages with their own racial positioning. In this article, it is us – the authors – who constitute the third person. This offers some analytical and methodological possibilities for examining ‘race’. Analytically, it makes whiteness visible through its interrogation of Scandinavian self-understanding as ‘without race’. Methodologically, the racial identity of the observer(s) is made visible – the authors of this article include two white, female and Scandinavian sport, migration and gender scholars, and a black, male and South African sociologist of race and religion. In our collaboration, the importance of the racial positioning of the observer(s) became evident through our differentiated experiences of the normativity of whiteness in the Scandinavian region.
We agree with Fassin (2011) that racial identification does not necessarily equate with racism. However, we hold that racial ascription is never ideologically neutral, and that regardless of whether such racial ascriptions of the black other are invoked in narratives of affirmation, or of stigmatisation, they nonetheless rely on a repertoire of ideas and images (Said, 1978) that informs the initial identification with particular meanings. In the Scandinavian countries, as in the rest of Europe, race is seldom explicitly mentioned, although it remains salient through coded terms such as ‘integration’, ‘ethnicity’ and ‘culture’ (Goldberg, 2006). Because of this ‘racial avoidance’ (Goldberg, 2006: 343), we include into our usage of racialisation a recognition of the linkages between racial biology and contemporary cultural racism (Mulinari et al., 2009).
Further, our approach to racialisation demands interrogation both of marked (i.e. blackness, femininity) and unmarked (i.e. whiteness, masculinity) positions (Phoenix, 2006: 22). In the context of professional sports, race and gender are often considered to be fundamental markers of particular material and physical capacities; they are inscribed both with significant meaning and currency. Race and gender are not, however, distinct axes of differentiation that can be explored in an additive fashion (Yuval-Davis, 2011). Hence, we include in our use of ‘racialisation’ the recognition that, as a social categorisation, race is mutually imbricated and co-constituted with gender (Crenshaw, 1989; Phoenix, 2006). Meaning that we explore not merely representations of race but also how racialisation is gendered, and how normative gender regimes reassert whiteness as the norm (Collins, 2004).
Methods and material
The empirical material presented in this article is drawn from the first author’s PhD project on Nigerian women’s football migration into, and within, Scandinavia. 3 This project was concerned with the production of Nigerian women footballers’ movements into Scandinavian women’s clubs. Women’s football migration is a well established, yet growing, phenomenon. Research indicates that migrant players make up 36–50% of players in the core countries (which includes Scandinavia) of women’s football (Tiesler, 2011). The project focused on the Scandinavian region, as the women’s football leagues here have become increasingly popular to international players from a variety of countries (Botelho and Agergaard, 2011). During the 2008/2009 season, nearly 50% of players in the Swedish top league ‘Damallsvenskan’ were international migrants (Tiesler, 2011), indicating that the Scandinavian countries form part of the ‘core’ of recruiting countries in women’s football migration. 4
Many women football players, especially in the global South, need to migrate in order to be able to make a living as professionals. Figures suggest that 28% of African national women football team players were international migrants in the 2008–2009 season (Tiesler, 2011). At the time of this study, Nigerian women were the only football migrants from the African continent employed in Scandinavian clubs, indicative of the leading role the country has played in the development of women’s football on the continent. In 2013, Nigerian women footballers made up the second largest group of international players in the Swedish top league, outnumbered only by players from Finland. Over the last 12 years, at least 30 Nigerian women have played professionally in Scandinavia for varying lengths of time (from six months to 10 years). 5
A case study of this growing phenomenon provides insight into complex issues at the intersection of processes related to the globalisation, commodification and professionalisation of women’s football, and sport more generally. Moreover, this case study offers a valuable vantage point into discourses and experiences of gender and racialisation in Scandinavian sport, a hitherto under-researched field. Last, we find that the racialisation of Nigerian women football migrants offers insights into how Scandinavian societies read, receive and represent women migrants from the postcolonial South in line with stereotypical notions of victimhood.
The PhD project utilised multi-sited fieldwork (Marcus, 1995) and in-depth semi-structured interviews as the main research methods. Twelve current, and former, sport administrators, directors and coaches were interviewed, at six different women’s football clubs in Scandinavia. These six clubs were chosen as they were the clubs that had the most (longest and most sizeable) experience with employing women footballers from Nigeria. Eleven current, and former, Nigerian women football migrants were also interviewed, at their places of residence in Scandinavia and/or Nigeria. The interviews with officials inquired into the clubs’ strategies for, and experiences of, recruitment and employment of international migrants in general, and Nigerian footballers in particular. Their perspectives on the potentials, capacities and actual performances of players are key in making sports labour migration possible. The interviews with migrant players explored their wishes for, and experiences of, migration into/within Scandinavia, as well as their experiences with Scandinavian clubs to date. All but one of the interviews were voice-recorded and subsequently transcribed 6 and anonymised. The transcripts were coded according to themes, in two stages, and analysed using a holistic-content approach (Lieblich et al., 1998) and critical discourse analysis (Fairclough, 2003). 7
The positionality of the first author (who was also the interviewer) shaped the interactions between the researcher and the different participants, as well as the content of the interviews. Her being a white, middle-class, Norwegian woman meant that, in discussion with the white (and mostly older male) Scandinavian club officials, their ‘shared status’ with her was frequently emphasised through appealing to presumed common-sense knowledge. In the interviews with the (black, Nigerian) migrant players, the racial position of the researcher was less of an advantage. Hence, discussing race and racism became a protracted process. When asked about whether they had experienced racism in Scandinavia, the participants typically responded in the negative. Yet, over time, and with increasing trust and ease with each other, the participants shared their experiences with stereotyping and ideas of racial difference more freely.
Constructing a racialised ‘us’ and ‘them’
When Scandinavian clubs were asked about their approach to international recruitment, all six clubs were clear that they prefer to employ local and national players, but that there simply are not enough talented local and national players to form a competitive team on the highest level of Scandinavian women’s football. In an interview, one of the clubs presented the interviewer with a prioritised list of countries from which they recruit international players. At the top of their list, after Scandinavian players, were players from the Nordic region (Scandinavia, Finland and Iceland), followed by Europeans, North Americans and Australians. Last were players from South American and Africa. This suggests that there is a preference for recruiting players from countries within presumed geographic and cultural proximity.
For most club officials, it was their belief in football similarities that was the biggest motivating factor for recruiting players from Europe and North America, rather than Africa or South America. In these narratives, officials presented a geographic schema of football ‘cultures’ and styles. Per, one of the head coaches interviewed, expressed this clearly: I think South American countries and African countries, if I can generalise a bit, I think they are more with the ball … whereas we others, Americans, Norwegians, Germans … understand that we also have to train the tough stuff.
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Without explicitly mentioning race at all, both Per constructs a racial geography wherein whiteness is normative and universal, while remaining invisible. In these articulations, he is able to imagine a collective ‘we’ that extends beyond the Scandinavian context, a ‘we’ that is situated against South America and Africa as the racial ‘other’. Per argues that ‘we’ (Americans, Norwegians, Germans) have the same understanding of, and approach to, football, ‘we’ are more dedicated and hard-working because ‘we’ understand that football is not just fun and games. The association of white athletes with intellectual capacities, perseverance and hard work has been explored in research on race and sport (van Sterkenburg and Knoppers, 2012; McCarthy et al., 2003). The corollary to this is a racialised categorisation of ‘them’ founded in the belief that African and South American football is ‘trivial’, ‘light’ (Vidacs, 2006), childish and unspoilt and in need of further development to become fully professional (Ungruhe, 2013). Through this, the ‘we’ group is situated as the powerful, unspoken white norm, whereas the racial ‘other’ is peripheral and less gifted (Hylton, 2008).
Racialising bodies and physical talents
In the world of sport, a common racial stereotype is a belief that black athletes, and black men in particular, are naturally physically stronger than white athletes, making them more suitable for certain sports and certain positions on the field of play (Hylton, 2008; King, 2004). The coaches and administrators we interviewed expressed similar ideas about there being clear racial differences with regards to players’ physical strength and tactical abilities.
Erling, for instance, claimed that Nigerian players are really just ‘raw talents’. Erling categorised players from the African continent as having impressive bodily capital, but insufficient professional training and development. This is consistent with wider stereotypes about African football (Ungruhe, 2013). The idea that the Nigerian players have natural and inherent capacities that mark them as different from European and North American players was expressed by most of the club officials interviewed. Karl, for instance, argued that Africans have a genetic ‘upper hand’ on Europeans: African people have more explosive muscles. If you look at an African you see, both boys and girls, they have bigger muscle-mass, that is my impression. They have a genetic little something I think. So they are quick but don’t always have as much stamina as Europeans. You can mix your training to get more stamina. But they are quicker and more muscular.
Like Karl, Anna, a sports director, spoke of the natural and physiological advantages embodied by Nigerian footballers: Gloria is an artist, she has got the ball and the rhythm in her blood … you can see she has the ball in her blood in a way, you see a clear difference between a [Scandinavian player] and Gloria. But not all Nigerians are like that, but they have … it in their blood, that rhythm.
The ways in which club officials described the corporeal differences assigned to African bodies also illustrated the gendered dimensions of racialisation. Jan, a sports coordinator, articulated an understanding of African women as being exceptionally strong: If you look at them, if I take Joy as an example, she is 19 years I cannot find a 19 year old here who is as physically strong [and] if you look at Rose when she gyms when she [works it] I would never be close to that, it is impossible. She is so strong throughout all of her [body].
By suggesting that Rose is stronger, ‘in her whole body’, than a man, Jan echoes historical and colonial representations of African and black women as being ‘closer to nature’, more masculine, and stronger than white women (Collins, 2004; Vertinsky and Captain, 1998). These myths about the ‘strength of black women’ posit them as akin to ‘superwomen’, who are physically intimidating and possess animalistic strength (Douglas, 2002). Here, the inordinate strength of black women is presented as consistent with qualities of blackness (natural strength and athletic ability), yet inconsistent with qualities of womanhood (weaker and less athletic than men). Through this positioning of black women’s strength as outside the white norm of femininity, discourses of gendered and racial difference are left intact. Because they are not like ‘normal’ (white) women, black women are not the standard-bearers of femininity, hence the strength ascribed to black and Nigerian women footballers does not threaten traditional gender regimes wherein (white) women are seen as naturally physically inferior to men.
Football as ‘escape’ from poverty and patriarchy
Although the form of migration that Scandinavian clubs and Nigerian players take part in concerns the movement of highly skilled and professional footballers, club officials frequently suggest that humanitarian and developmental concerns are key motivating factors for migration ‘out of Africa’. They argue that, whilst Nigerian women footballers migrate to gain international experience, movement into Scandinavia also provides opportunities for social mobility and freedom that are not available to them in Africa. While there are certainly financial incentives for (Nigerian) women’s international football migration (into Scandinavia), motivational factors for movement are also related to aspirations for professional development that cannot be measured in monetary terms (Botelho and Agergaard, 2011). Studies have shown that African women footballers primary incentives for migrating are sporting ambitions rather than escape from poverty and exile (Agergaard and Botelho, 2013).
Notwithstanding this, Tore, a sports director, suggested that coming to Scandinavia is a tremendous learning experience for Nigerian footballers, particularly because ‘we northerners are more civilised’ than Africans. These ideas of migration ‘out of Africa’ are consistent with the idea that, for women from the South, movement into the North facilitates liberation – freedom from gender-based violence and poverty – and movement towards modernity: access to education, employment and gender equality. In this, Scandinavia is represented as a civilised destination, shaped by ideals of egalitarianism, gender equity and international solidarity and development (Sawyer and Habel, 2014). Civility, hence, is defined as a Scandinavian norm, that Nigerian women can gain access to through migration.
One aspect of this representation of the differences between Scandinavia and Nigeria is related to the meaning assigned to a successful career in football: It is their lives they play for every day. I mean you and I we study and we work and then we grow tired and we change jobs. But they grow up with, well I don’t know how Jane grew up but I can imagine it wasn’t very affluent. And that is how this is life-determining I think. They actually play football for real! (Kåre, sports director)
In this representation, Jane emerges not as a trained professional that left Nigeria for the purpose of career development, but as an underprivileged African women who plays football as a route out of poverty. Through this representation of the state of affairs for women in Africa, an image is formed of the ‘average third world woman’ as someone who ‘leads an essentially truncated life based on her feminine gender (read: sexually constrained) and being “third world” (read: ignorant, poor, uneducated, tradition-bound, religious, domesticated, family-oriented, victimized, etc.)’ (Mohanty, 1988: 65). The representational regime Jan draws on, in other words, is based on a long-critiqued trope concerning the victimhood of African and ‘Third World Women’.
Jan, another sports coordinator, expressed a similar sentiment when he argued that, through remittances, Nigerian players in Scandinavia can provide financial security for their families. In his opinion, African players use their employment in Scandinavia as a way in which to send social and financial support ‘down to Africa’. In this sense, when Scandinavian clubs employ Nigerian women footballers, they do not only get to see themselves as contributing to individual empowerment and betterment but also to the development of families and communities. For Jan, there were also important gendered dimensions of his understanding of African poverty: I think the African women are, first of all when they are born … [they have to] fetch food, clean up at home, if you are lucky you get to go to school. I don’t think one understands what a big responsibility they are born with, a heritage that we have no idea about.
These depictions of black women athletes as, on the one hand, physically powerful, yet on the other as socially and culturally marginalised and disempowered, were articulated by several of the club officials. They suggested that while ‘the problem’ with male African footballers is perceived to be instilling discipline, the challenge with African women footballers is increasing their confidence in social situations. As one coach suggested, upon arriving in Scandinavia, Nigerian women footballers must be trained to be assertive and make eye contact with male coaches and administrators when speaking. In so doing, he also commented on the interviewer’s ability to do so. This coach took it upon himself to ‘teach’ the Nigerian players how to properly speak to and assert themselves among men – in doing this positioning himself as the protector of these women. Because of the work he put into this, he argues that the Nigerian women in question are much more confident in their dealings with (white) Scandinavian men. Here, ideas about the victimhood and submissiveness of African women enables this coach to present and imagine himself as a ‘white saviour’ – his integrity and good morals are made possible through the existence of a (black) woman in need.
Recognising and performing racialised expectations
Although they are reluctant to label situations where race is implicitly or explicitly invoked as constitutive of racism, Desiree and her co-nationals who have played professional football in Scandinavia are keenly aware of their ascribed difference from their white teammates. Gendered and racialised representation of African athletic superiority, and cultural patriarchy thus forms a key part of the interpretive frame through which Nigerian women footballers are read and assessed in Scandinavia. As the dominant representation, it is also a process of racialisation that Nigerian players become complicit in through forms of recognition, performance and mimicry. Several of the Nigerian players interviewed argued that African muscles are, in fact, different and stronger: It is true that black players [are] stronger. It is natural. Black people from Africa [are] stronger and faster, maybe it is a gift from God. It is the time I came here that I saw. We are stronger than [Scandinavian] players, faster than white players. (Stella) Like I have been [to] so many physiotherapists … They tell me my muscle is different from the European muscle they have been seeing … They tell me [my muscle is] different because I’m African. (Nneka)
Desiree articulated a particularly clear understanding of the need for her to perform in certain expected ways while she was an active footballer in Scandinavia. She said that, because she was expected to be the strongest player on the field, she needed to make sure that she in fact was: Seriously like, you don’t have to be like only [a] technically good player. You have to be tough, you have to be like really strong. But, I think that’s what gives African players [an] edge over the Scandinavian players. Like if you’re tough, if you’re hard, you’ll easily get noticed.
Conclusion
As our article has shown, racialised ascriptions do not always imply negative judgements; sometimes, they involve seemingly positive descriptions and expressions of admiration. Yet, even when the racialised other recognizes and mimics such ascription, ‘valorization of difference may … [nonetheless] result in paternalistic attitudes’ (Fassin, 2011: 423). In the context of Nigerian women’s football migration, Scandinavian clubs often construct the assumed difference embodied by African players positively, as having incredible raw talents and physical skills. Yet, they are also paternalistically considered deficient and in need of professional training and development so as to become fully fledged professionals.
These racialised imaginaries about Nigerian women football migrants serve to sustain the normativity of whiteness in Scandinavian sporting discourse, and maintain a Scandinavian self-image as post-racial and gender-equitable. This happens through three interrelated processes. First, African players are identified as racial ‘others’ who inhabit different cultural and bodily capital from the white norm. Through this process of assigning difference to others – locating otherness in their bodies and cultures – the invisible normativity of whiteness is sustained (Dyer, 1997). Yet, this is also precisely the moment at which white normativity is exposed, making challenges to, and critiques of, its privilege possible.
Second, the identified racial difference is ascribed meaning through drawing on ideas and narratives about the physiological differences between black and white bodies. In this, racial difference is naturalised and legitimised through assessments of athletic bodies and sporting performances. The ‘proof’ for racial difference is produced through a white gaze onto Nigerian women footballers; the uniqueness of their muscles and bodies is observable when they train, and their strength and rhythm is evident when they ‘trick’ and overpower other (white) players on the football field. By so doing, these representations trivialise the achievements and success of Nigerian women football migrants. Because they are seen to have natural strength and ‘rhythm in their blood’, their abilities and performances as professional footballers are not recognised as the result of years of hard work, dedication and professionalism.
Third, the ’otherness’ embodied by Nigerian women footballers in the Scandinavian context is attributed also to ideas about African under-development. The clubs assert that through migrating to Scandinavia, Nigerian women have the chance of achieving individual empowerment (by learning to assert themselves in the company of men) and ensure a safe financial future for their families ‘down in Africa’. As a result, Nigerian women’s football migrations are interpreted as a way of escaping African poverty and patriarchy, not as the result of strategic decisions and actions taken by highly skilled athletes. In this, their status as professionals is undermined.
It is through the figure of the third person – in this case the authors – that these racialised representational regimes can be exposed and challenged. By giving racialised incidents and stereotypes a ‘public life’, new insights can be brought into debates about race and racism in sport, within and beyond the Scandinavian region. We have illustrated that, although it does not require racist intentions or articulated experiences of racism, ascriptions and valorisations of racial difference serve to arrest black women athletes in gendered and racial tropes. These stereotypes trivialise the performances of black women on the sporting field, and expose Scandinavian complicity in colonial legacies of racial ascription and categorisation. As was the case with Desiree (whose narrative we introduced at the beginning of this article), gendered and racialised interpretations of Nigerian women’s mobility posit them as being ‘out of place’ in Scandinavia, despite being actively recruited and desirable migrants. Hence, illustrating that, amidst claims to colour-blindness, multicultural tolerance and developmental benevolence, racialised imaginaries and white normativity remain central in defining who does, and does not, belong in Scandinavian public spaces.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The research project this article draws from was funded by NOS-HS: Nordic Research Councils for Humanities and Social Sciences.
