Issa Kaboré returned to Wrexham more refreshed than he ought to have been after an extended international break which took a dramatic turn to the chaotic. Some Burkinabè media outlets mistakenly reported that their national team would sign off their international sojourn by providing the opposition in Lionel Messi’s penultimate international. In fact, that was never on the cards: Messi was always going to make a farewell bow in Wednesday’s friendly against Benin but wasn’t in the squad for the two friendlies that preceded it. Some legends managed to get through the window with humility, while others made it all about them!
However, Burkina Faso certainly were to play in Argentina last Sunday. What transpired before they even set foot in South America was a depressing throw-back to the most unhelpful cliches about African football, as chaotic transport issues and bureaucratic failings led to intervention by an autocratic government. The consequences could be far-reaching: we might end up in a situation where Wrexham don’t have to worry about Kaboré tiring himself out in internationals for a while.
Before we begin that strand of the tale, though, it’s worth investigating why Burkina Faso and Benin were fulfilling unlikely friendlies in Argentina in the first place. The reason does not reflect well on their hosts. Brazil took advantage of an unprecedentedly long international break with no competitive games lined up for South American teams because they all qualify automatically for the Copa America by doing what they do best: dragging their international superstars around the globe to appear in lucrative matches. Reportedly, their friendly in India netted the CBF a cool £3m. Argentina hit upon a different way to monetise the break: arrange friendlies against low-ranking African nations without offering them the customary fee for providing the opposition in a home friendly. European nations and the stronger sides in Africa would never accept those terms, but offered a prestigious match with the Argentines picking up the tab for expenses, Burkina Faso and Benin signed up to the deal.
Unfortunately for them, Argentina were keen to cut those expenses to a minimum to maximise their profit, and arranged tortuous series of flights to get their opponents across the Atlantic. This would come back to haunt Burkina Faso, although it’s not clear whether their FA were aware of these arrangements when they signed up to them: there’s a reasonable chance that they were, but didn’t care what inconveniences their players went through.
More of that later, but how about the actual football for Burkina Faso? It all started so well. Kicking off their qualifying campaign for AFCON, they drew at home to Benin before winning in the Central African Republic. That leaves them second on goal difference in a group of four which means they’re on course for qualification: the top two go through and with back-to-back fixtures against Mauritania scheduled for November, a pair of wins over a side 52 places beneath them in the FIFA rankings would assure their progress to the fInals in Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania next Summer with two matches to spare.
What happened next means those games might never take place: Issa might end up with us for the start of pre-season after all!
It’s been widely reported that the team didn’t fly to Argentina because a flight was cancelled, but it looks like there was more to it than just that. Stories from French media outlets mentioned “transit visa problems and convoluted flight itineraries” as the causes of the delay. Ultimately, the squad got sick of the issues and rejected the Burkinabè FA’s revised itinerary, which would involve a lengthy series of flights and an arrival in Buenos Aires just five hours before kick-off. Faced with the prospect of a financial penalty for failing to fulfil their contract with the Argentinian FA, Burkina Faso sent their Under 23s. Argentine newspaper La Nacion. called it “a shameful match,” contested between the World Cup runners-up and a “clearly jet-lagged U23 team”.
Enter the government. In 2022, a military coup usurped the President, replacing himwith lieutenant-colonel Paul-Henri Sandaogo Damiba, but eight months later he was removed by military colleague, Ibrahim Traoré, and fled the country. Traoré has lived up to another unfortunate African trope – that of the strong-arm military leader. Opposition has been suppressed and the “temporary” military rule (as often happens, their intervention was framed as an emergency measure to restore the constitution, and Traoré’s official title is “interim president”) has been extended beyond the putative end date. He is popular, having boosted the Burkinabè economy and severed ties with former colonial overlords France. Having said that, his enthusiastic rejection of neo-colonialism hasn’t precluded a close relationship with Russia.
So far, so cliched. Traoré has stepped in after the Argentina fiasco, declaring that “our football is sick and we’re going to find remedies”.
The thing is, FIFA take an exceptionally dim view of governmental interference in football matters. Just how they define such an offence isn’t straightforward – the Sports Minister who looks likely to pay a price for the mess which unfolded this week is part of the military junta, after all. Still, Traoré’s very public intervention makes it likely FIFA will act if they detect any activity they don’t like the look of. They tend to ban national teams from playing if they feel a regime has overstepped the mark, which would leave Kaboré in serious danger of missing out on a third AFCON finals and being in North Wales when the next series of international breaks come around. I’m sure Phil Parkinson will be able to live with that.
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