The retirement of Chief Constable Craig Guildford from West Midlands Police was announced on Friday. His decision to resign was prompted by what he described as a “political and media frenzy” over the banning of Maccabi Tel Aviv’s Israeli fans from attending the game against Aston Villa in Birmingham.
Days earlier, Home Secretary Shabana Mahmoud publicly said she had “lost faith” in Guildford’s leadership following sustained political and media pressure. It was the first time in 20 years that a Home Secretary had done so. Ministers and much of the media branded the ban a moral outrage and even a national disgrace.
This was not a scandal involving corruption, brutality, or police cover-up, but a risk assessment. British media and civil servants have scrapped internal recommendations that underpinned the decision to bar Maccabi Tel Aviv supporters from Villa Park in November. In doing so, the British state has effectively sided with the fans of Israeli football clubs against its own police.
West Midlands Police later admitted it had made an error in its assessment. Those mistakes should be noted, but proportionate. They are not evidence of malice, conspiracy, or bias. An independent investigation found no evidence that officers were influenced by anti-Semitism or malicious intent, but the findings have been largely drowned out by public outrage.
What has also been consistently erased from media coverage is the context. Hooligan elements within Maccabi Tel Aviv’s fan base have a long and well-documented history of violent and racist behavior, including overtly anti-Palestinian chants. This is not a marginal claim or a recent invention. It has been recognized for decades, including within Israel.
The police risk assessment was informed by the violence surrounding the Maccabi Tel Aviv match in Amsterdam in 2024. Riots then spilled into the city, attacking local residents, hearing racist chants praising Israeli forces and targeting Palestinian symbols. The incident occurred in the midst of Israel’s massacre in Gaza, amidst worldwide outrage over its mass killings, displacement and starvation. Against this backdrop, the decision to err on the side of caution was neither shocking nor ominous. It was the police.
Anti-Semitism is real, it’s dangerous, it’s on the rise around the world, and it must be seriously confronted. But collapsing Jewish identity to support Israeli soccer clubs and treating their fan bases as suspects does nothing to combat anti-Semitism. Instead, it is weaponizing it, casting doubt on the Muslim community and undermining trust in public institutions.
Further underscoring the political reaction to the incident is that it is not uncommon in the UK to ban football supporters from entering stadiums on security grounds. British authorities have routinely banned British fans from attending matches at home and abroad due to the country’s reputation for violence and disorder.
These collective precautions have long been accepted as normal public order operations. Not a single cabinet member has complained of discrimination. No police chief has been traced. No national crisis has been declared.
The difference here is not one of principle. It’s politics.
For Palestinians, this episode fits into a broader and painfully familiar pattern. For more than two years, Israel has been carrying out genocide in Gaza. Tens of thousands of people were killed, most of the population was displaced, homes, hospitals, schools and universities were destroyed, and starvation was imposed as a means of war. International legal experts and human rights groups have warned of war crimes and crimes against humanity. The UK response has been consistent: delay, ambiguity and protection.
There is no arms embargo. There are no sanctions. There is no meaningful accountability to Israel.
The pattern revealed in Birmingham is the same as that shaping Britain’s response to Gaza. When Israel’s interests become inconvenient, the state mobilizes. We call for restraint when Palestinians are killed. If people in the UK try to disrupt the genocidal supply chain, they will be prosecuted. Some are now in prison. Some people are on hunger strike.
This is the reality facing Palestinian activists today. That’s why it’s impossible to avoid the question at the heart of this story.
If the British government cannot accept police decisions that inconvenience Israeli football clubs, it will never confront Israel over genocide. If a country is willing to undermine its own institutions to demonstrate loyalty, it will fail to deliver justice to those who challenge its impunity.
The football controversy is important not because of what happened in Birmingham’s stadium, but because it reveals how power works. It shows whose fear is justified, whose suffering requires action, and whose life is accountable.
For Palestinians, this message is unmistakable. Even under these circumstances, justice will not be delayed. It is denied.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of Al Jazeera.
