"It was a situation the likes of which one experiences every day in the Argentine capital of Buenos Aires. Lining up behind an attractive, olive-skinned girl in her mid-20s in a store, in the middle of a December heatwave which pushed the mercury towards 37°C and waiting patiently as the stranger bought a box of Marlboro cigarettes. The clerk passed back her change with a smile, and the salutation "Gracias, negra".
A completely innocuous, mundane interaction, but one that stuck in the mind due to the events that followed a matter of minutes later. On the same day, and at almost exactly the same time as that exchange, Uruguayan forward Luis Suarez was receiving an eight match ban for saying the same word to Patrice Evra on the other side of the world in England.
It is not the purpose of this article to assign blame, to condone or crucify Suarez or to call Evra's sterling reputation as a footballer into disrepute. The pair are both professionals at the very top of their chosen career, so to descend into simple conclusions - as the temptation has been for many in the sport and in the media - is lazy and poor journalism. But to every story there is two sides, and in South America and especially Luis' home nation the reaction has been of utter disbelief.
"Senseless", was Sebastian Abreu's word to describe the lengthy suspension, while Uruguay captain Diego Lugano went even further in calling it a "grave error", and accusing Evra of breaking football's unwritten code of what happens on the pitch, stays on the pitch. The Uruguayan government even commented in favour of their striker, but perhaps one of the most considered arguments was provided by Lazio's Alvaro Gonzalez.
"In Uruguay we use terms that can be misinterpreted and all of us who know Luis know that he wouldn't have made the comment as a defamatory remark," he said in quotes published by Ovacion.
"You can't call a Uruguayan racist because of that ... perhaps we are paying the price for going to live in different cultures."
The word in question, negro, understandably appears ugly and bigoted when laid down on paper in English. As demonstrated by the anecdote at the start of this article, however, in Uruguay as in Argentina and much of Latin America it is considered a neutral, even familiar term. Friends, sons, daughters, parents are addressed with the phrase, or its diminutive negrito/a, whether they are from African, mixed-race or even European descent with blue hair and blonde eyes.
It is not the language of politicians or diplomats, admittedly, indeed little one hears inside the lines of a football pitch would be suitable in the debating chamber of the UN. But it is the product of a society and continent in which the process of nation and population-building has made traditional labels almost superfluous.
Some four per cent of the country's three million population claim African descent, a proportion double that of the United Kingdom and not including those of mixed heritage, believed to number around 10%. This group have been settled and integrated in Uruguayan society up to 400 years, and have left an indelible imprint on the nation's culture, music and language. Suarez himself has an Afro-Uruguayan grandfather, and he is carrying on a grand tradition of multiculturalism in the Celeste football team.
Uruguay withstood strong protest to field black players in the 1916 Copa America, a full 63 years before Viv Anderson took the pitch to become England's first black international. The history of the country's football success is littered with great players of African or mixed descent; and many, such as 1950 captain Obdulio Varela, are still remembered fondly as 'El Negro'.
In this context, then, a misunderstanding of intent and a linguistic confusion appears to be the culprit, one for which Luis Suarez has paid for heavily. Is he really expected to know that the Spanish word he has grown up with as neutral and even affectionate his whole life was co-opted by British and American slavers in the 18th century as a synonym for African people, and used frequently until becoming taboo in the 1960s civil rights struggle? It is the content of a university thesis, not an assumption for a 24-year-old footballer adapting to a new country and culture.
That is not to paint Uruguay or Argentina as colour-blind paradises, far from it. Racism and racist comments are no rarer than anywhere else in the world, although more often directed towards nationalities rather than ethnicities. The fact that in Buenos Aires the term Boliviano or Paraguayo when referring to immigrants from that country can be much more pejorative than the word negro is a cultural anomaly hard to interpret for someone unfamiliar with the culture, and migrants from South America are no strangers to similar discrimination elsewhere.
It has been widely reported, for example, that Evra called Suarez a "South American" or "Sudaca" before receiving his perceived insult, and the latter especially is horribly demeaning for those from the continent who have chosen to pursue their lives in Europe. The South American, however, left things on the field, most likely taking the angry exchange as part and parcel of making his living in a testosterone-fuelled atmosphere where tempers often fray.
It is equally unfair to say that Evra, perhaps not versed in the history and etymology of the word in its Spanish, Latin-American context, was wrong to take offence at Suarez's language. There is no place for racial insults, however intended, in modern football with the strides it has taken in extracting this cancer in the last 25 years.
But, as Tim Vickery mentioned in an excellent article on the same subject before the ruling, the FA had a perfect chance to demonstrate their ability to adapt to the demands of modern football. Taking Suarez in front of the board, explaining that such language can be construed in negative ways in England and handing out a light warning would have sent the player a clear message while not castigating him for his linguistic faux pas.
In throwing the book at the Uruguayan, however, the ruling body has demonstrated an ignorance and clumsiness when faced with cultural sensitivities which has made it the object of outrage in one of the world's most inclusive football nations.
Suarez's ban may be another step on the road to the English Premier League's enlightenment when it comes to racial controversies, but it also proves that when faced with a question of cultural understanding and compromise in a globalised football world, their attitude remains indisputably in the stone age."
By Daniel Edwards in Buenos Aires
