The Strange History Behind the Dutch Soccer Pogroms

Ajax, the Dutch soccer club that Maccabi Tel Aviv played before its fans were attacked in Amsterdam, has long identified itself with Jews.

The Strange History Behind the Dutch Soccer Pogroms

Among the bizarrest phenomena in the world of sports is Ajax, the most accomplished club in the storied history of Dutch soccer. Its fans—blond-haired men with beer guts, boys with blue eyes—sing “Hava Nagila” as they cram into the trams taking them to the stadium on the fringes of Amsterdam. Ajax fans tattoo the Star of David onto their forearms. In the moments before the opening kick of a match, they proudly shout at the top of their lungs, “Jews, Jews, Jews,” because—though most of them are not Jewish—philo-Semitism is part of their identity.   

Last night, the club that describes itself as Jewish played against a club of actual Jews, Maccabi Tel Aviv. As Israeli fans left the stadium, after their club suffered a thumping defeat, they were ambushed by well-organized groups of thugs, in what the mayor of Amsterdam described as “anti-Semitic hit-and-run squads.” What followed was a textbook example of a pogrom: mobs chasing Jews down city streets, goons punching and kicking Jews crouched helplessly in corners, an orgy of hate-filled violence.

That this attack transpired on the streets of Amsterdam is beyond ironic. At least 75 percent of Dutch Jews died in the Holocaust. But there was an affectionate Yiddish nickname for the city: mokum, “safe place.” After the Spanish Inquisition, Holland absorbed Iberian Jewry, which flourished there. Amsterdam was the city that hid Anne Frank, the most famous example of righteous Gentiles taking risks on behalf of Jewish neighbors. And then there was Ajax.

In the 1950s and ’60s, the few remaining survivors of the Holocaust in the city supported the team, as they had before the war. No Dutch club had a larger Jewish fan base, because no Dutch city was as Jewish as Amsterdam. They were supporting a club on the brink of glory. Ajax reinvented the global game by introducing a strategic paradigm called total football, a free-flowing style of play that exuded the let-loose spirit of the ’60s. Led by the genius Johan Cruyff, perhaps the most creative player in the history of the game, Ajax became an unexpected European powerhouse.

During those glorious postwar years, Ajax had two Jewish players; three of the club’s presidents were Jews. Before games, the team would order a kosher salami for good luck. Yiddish phrases were part of locker-room banter. In Brilliant Orange, David Winner’s extraordinary book about Dutch soccer, Ajax’s (Jewish) physiotherapist is quoted as saying the players “liked to be Jewish even though they weren’t.” It isn’t hard to see the psychology at work. By embracing Yiddishkeit, Ajax players and fans were telling themselves a soothing story: Their parents might have been Nazi collaborators and bystanders to evil, but they weren’t.

[Jeffrey Goldberg: Is it time for the Jews to leave Europe?]

Israelis took great pleasure in Ajax’s affiliation, and they especially revered Cruyff. His family had Jewish relatives—a connection he honored on a trip to Jerusalem’s Holocaust memorial, Yad Vashem. It was said that he once walked down the streets of Tel Aviv wearing a kippah, and was a devoted fan of the writer Isaac Bashevis Singer. Israelis embraced Cruyff as one of their own.

But Ajax’s rival clubs exploited this history, this strange identity, to taunt its players and fans with anti-Semitic bile. Among the common chants deployed at Ajax games: “Hamas, Hamas, Jews to the gas.” To taunt Ajax, these fans would make the hissing noise, mimicking the release of Zyklon B. Dutch authorities never effectively cracked down on this omnipresent Jew hatred.

Philo-Semitism and anti-Semitism went hand in hand during the postwar years. It wasn’t so different from the way that American sports franchises turned Indigenous tribes into mascots. Only after Jews or Native Americans have been wiped out by genocide can they become vehicles for the majority population to have some fun at the murdered group’s expense. And behind even Ajax’s nominal expressions of love, there was something profoundly disturbing: Jews barely existed in Holland, yet they remained an outsize obsession.

After videos of the violence emerged from Amsterdam in various media outlets, there could be no denying the global surge of anti-Semitism. But a swath of the press—and an even larger swath of social media—has minimized the assault, sometimes unintentionally. Some headlines described the anti-Semitic nature of the assaults in quotation marks, despite all the conclusive evidence about the motive of the mob. Because some of the Israeli fans ripped Palestinian flags off buildings and chanted bigoted slogans, it was implied, the mob was justified in stabbing and beating Jews. Such widespread ambivalence over the attack reflects a culture that shrugs in the face of anti-Jewish violence, which treats it as an unavoidable facet of life after October 7.

But the most bitter fact of all is that these assaults transpired the same evening that the Dutch commemorated the 86th anniversary of Kristallnacht. In the presence of actual Jews, the Dutch failed them again.