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How one kiss became a slap in the face to all of Spanish soccer

The situation has rapidly become more than an ugly moment broadcast around the world.

UPDATE (Sep. 5, 2023, 12:42 p.m. ET): Spain’s women’s soccer coach Jorge Vilda was fired Tuesday two weeks after the team won the World Cup title. Vilda had initially supported Royal Spanish Football Federation President Luis Rubiales and opposed efforts to remove him. 

In a stunning move, FIFA, the morally bereft international body that oversees global soccer, has suspended Royal Spanish Football Federation President Luis Rubiales from office, while investigating his conduct after the Women’s World Cup final. That stirring match ended with Spain beating England 1-0, yet instead of marveling at the remarkable story of Spain’s rise, the topic on soccer fans’ minds is Rubiales’ nonconsensual kiss (assault) of star player Jenni Hermoso following the match.

The scandal has roiled not just the sports world in Spain, but also the entire country. On Monday, Spanish prosecutors opened a sexual assault investigation into Rubiales. This should be a moment of unfettered glory for the Spanish women’s national soccer team. Yet because of the sexist, patronizing, disrespectful and altogether repellent male leadership in Spanish soccer, they instead are having to deal with patriarchal malice.

Rubiales’ and the federation’s disgraceful reactions highlight not only that these issues are not new in Spanish soccer, but also that the sexist rot runs very deep.

That FIFA acted at all is surprising, given its long record of corruption, sexism and general amorality. But the organization’s action was compelled by Rubiales’ and the federation’s repugnant responses. After social media and Spanish government ministers condemned the kiss, Rubiales put out a craven apology to “people who felt hurt,” while the federation released a statement quoting Hermoso describing the kiss as “a natural gesture of affection and gratitude.” Media outlets soon reported that Hermoso had not provided a quote. The federation had made it up.

At an emergency assembly of the Spanish federation Friday, Rubiales said “I won’t resign" four times in a row with the resoluteness of Nikita Khrushchev at the United Nations, to applause from the almost entirely male audience. It was an embarrassing display for both Rubiales and the entire federation. Rubiales’ and the federation’s disgraceful reactions highlight not only that these issues are not new in Spanish soccer, but also that the sexist rot runs very deep. Rubiales has now been officially removed from all soccer duties for 90 days “pending the disciplinary proceedings opened” against him. In response, Rubiales also is now suing the women’s soccer union and saying that Hermoso is “lying” about the consensual nature of the kiss. 

This is a repugnant person living in an age, as we certainly see in U.S. politics, when malignant misogyny can be met with standing ovations. Rubiales has gone in the last week from weakly apologizing to now insisting the kiss was consensual. But Hermoso put out her own statement, in which she says unequivocally, “I feel obligated to state that the words that Mr. Luis Rubiales has used to explained the unfortunate incident are categorically false and part of the manipulative culture that he has created himself.” 

Hermoso is far from alone. All 22 of her teammates and 58 other Spanish players, announced they will no longer play for the national team if Rubiales does not step down. (Forward Borja Iglesias has also stepped down from the men’s national team until Rubiales resigns.) In addition, Spain’s women’s soccer union, Spanish political leaders and a slew of journalists have all called for his resignation. 

In spite of this, he still holds the support of the objectively abusive, roundly despised coach of the team, Jorge Vilda, whom he just signed – amid all this tumult — to a new four-year contract. (A total of 11 members of Vilda’s coaching staff have resigned in protest against Rubiales.) This can only be understood, especially while Vilda is being investigated for his own post-match behavior, as a middle finger at the women who have bristled for years under his thumb. 

A World Cup triumph should be a moment that is solely about the team.

The situation has rapidly become more than an ugly moment broadcast around the world. It is a litmus test for which side you are on: not just on whether Rubiales should be fired, but also in regard to the rights of women athletes the world over. As The Athletic’s Meg Linehan wrote, “Think about the explosive growth and rising popularity of women’s football. Then think about where we’d be without outright bans of the game [in some countries, women’s teams are not even fielded], misogyny and abuse.”

In Rubiales’ Trumpian defiance, he’s gaining support from the most backward, revanchist elements of Spanish society and beyond. Yet, forces are also aligning against him. In addition to the aforementioned, Spanish basketball legend Pau Gasol and several of the team’s top sponsors are standing in support of Hermoso. This has rapidly become a “you can’t stay in neutral on a moving train” moment. Everyone in Spain is being asked, which side are you on?

A World Cup triumph should be a moment that is solely about the team. That this squad could perform the way it did even with an abusive, misogynistic coach and a federation that has disrespected and underfunded it every step of the way, should be the story. This needs to be a moment to agitate for full equality for women’s sports in Spain. They should be having a watershed moment as the nation roars its love, not unlike when the U.S. women's team won equal pay with their male counterparts after winning the last World Cup. Instead, the Spanish players have to defend their very humanity as athletes and as women. It’s not fair. It’s wrong. 

But at the very least, the battle lines have been drawn and the fight, simmering for decades in the world of Spanish women’s sports, has finally been joined. I do not expect Rubiales to survive this. But if he emerges from this as some kind of folk hero, it will tell us just how far we have to go, and not only in Spain. The real heroes — the ones who never asked for the title — are Hermoso, her teammates and everyone looking at Rubiales — and Vilda — and saying enough is enough.