In Fútbol, We Are the 12th Player
Argentinian Witches, Cábalas, and the Impact of Collective Energy
Dedicado a las brujas argentinas, y a los héroes del fútbol. Gracias por su trabajo.
Restarting something, anything, after so many failed attempts is always awkward. The new efforts are small, and many times those efforts become a brand new failure that implies the outcome of yet another defeat.
That’s how the 2022 World Cup started for Argentina. The matches leading to the final were something out of this world, but the first match was like all of us on a day in mid-January. The game started way too early in the morning, which didn’t stop people from tuning in with their first mate and some facturas and medialunas, (type of pastries), only to see the heroes lose against a team that didn’t even make it to the next round.
Argentinians could’ve fallen back into the well known fatalist mindset of “who cares, it’s all rigged so Europeans win again and again.” And yeah I mean, es una cagada. They’re not mistaken.
This is meant to go out on the 10th of January, when many people around the world have already met their first “new year’s resolutions early failure.” So I’d like to pose that question: sure everything is rigged against everyday people, especially against everyday people in so-called ‘lesser countries,’ but what can we do about it?
Voice of the skeptic: “so you really think that clapping and chanting stupid soccer songs meant anything at all?”
I think there’s something to our everyday rituals and our “cábalas,” and dismissing how everyone’s effort contributes to something bigger than us as individuals isn’t a wise approach.
I’m trying something different today: instead of discussing the topic off collective energy in an issue that directly impacts people’s lives, where the stakes seem to be incredibly high and time is always running out, I’d like to share the example of Argentinian unity and futbol.
First, What is a Cábala?
Argentinians make up words for everything, and a cábala is a type of ritual, or sequence of rituals that a person or group does before an important event. Sometimes it’s not a public or well-known event, sometimes it’s important to a person alone. Like an everyday ritual before a writing session, or before a university exam.
Cábalas are taken seriously in Argentina, no matter how old the person is, these little rituals are more than fleeting superstitions. A cábala could evolve with time. Argentina’s first World Cup match was a loss, but the next match against Mexico was a win. So whatever people were doing that day, they tried to repeat it for the next match against Poland. They did it again for the next match, and so the rituals and collective sorcery began.
“I wasn’t wearing my blue shirt during the first match, and I was outside instead of sitting on my favorite chair with grandmama’s embroidered pillow. But I did it for the second match, and the next, and the next. No, I didn’t wash that shirt.”
“I always prepare my mate and get a specific pastry from the corner bakery. That’s how I follow the matches. If I don’t get my mate and the pastry for whatever reason, we’re losing that one.”
Voice of the skeptic: “so basically you’re implying everyone in Argentina is a witch. That’s ridiculous.”
Not everyone is a witch, but the belief in everyday magic is strong. In South America as a whole, the openness to the possibility to the unexplained is prevalent, and many a time, skepticism is a public façade, a mask to wear in front of the more traditionally religious or that atheist friend who enjoys being the skeptic party-pooper just to appear “different.”
You just wait for the first futbol victory after a long drought, and even the most skeptic make the effort to kind of belief in something. “Elijo creer,” (I choose to believe). Witches as the more known practice also exist, and some of them love futbol as much as the next person. In our day of social media and public sharing, big events like the World Cup make those practices more visible to the outside world.
Argentinian Witches
Defining an Argentinian witch is tricky, because things vary from person to person, and the fusion of cultural traditions means there’s something in the figurative caldron for everyone, from western astrology to indigenous cosmology, from tarot readings to herbal medicine, from prophetic dreams to protection rituals, and of course everyday rituals like I mentioned earlier.
It’s a large country, and witchcraft also varies from region to region. A witch from Jujuy doesn’t follow the same practices as a witch from Neuquén or a witch from Mar del Plata. The person’s ancestry will also play a significant role in their path. Not always, but it’s common to follow the wisdom from those who lived before us.
Does magic for negative outcomes exist in Argentina?
Yes, it does, and it always has. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Many witches discourage those practices, but there will always be someone who doesn’t mind the cost that comes with the more negative side of magic. Many call this black magic, but I don’t appreciate the connotation of “black equals evil,” so I call it what it means: magic for a negative outcome.
Were witches persecuted in older times?
Unfortunately, yes. Argentina’s colonial past comes with a recorded history of persecuted and tortured women. Some were witches, but many of them confessed to whatever nonsense because of the pain of torture. Spanish witch hunts weren’t limited to Europe’s physical geography.
But today, witches can exist freely, and to many women in Argentina, being a bruja is empowering.
I personally don’t perceive it as positive or negative, but I acknowledge that witchcraft as empowerment also exists. To me, a witch simply is.
The Power of Collective Energy
A witch, or small groups of practitioners who take their craft seriously can be very powerful no matter where they are in the world. However, I think nothing beats the strength and effectiveness of collective energy, where everyone is involved in some way.
Argentinians are very good at unleashing that strength. Many musicians express that the Argentinian crowd is among the best in the world. They not only sing along to the lyrics, they chant guitar solos and improvise during pauses. “Olé olé olé olé, artist name, artist name,” is a well known example of what I mean.
Going back to the World Cup example, the people of Qatar witnessed that Argentinian strength that I’m trying to describe. Wherever they went, it felt as if the city itself trembled beneath their feet. Everybody gradually learned the most iconic chants, whether they understood the words or not.
I was one of those who sang even in her sleep. Some of the songs became a kind of mantra to me, and many others.
Regular people wrote lyrics for new songs, the most popular being “Muchachos, Ahora Nos Volvimos a Ilusionar,” or just “Muchachos,” recorded by the pop-ska group La Mosca, but the lyrics came from a regular guy. Another example was “Coronados de Gloria,” written and sung by a 7-year-old girl.
Spontaneous chants also brought a lot of joy to the crowds, like the random “Abuela, La La La La,” that became viral because a granny from Buenos Aires decided to party with the neighborhood kids.
It might not seem like magic to outsiders, but music and that spirit of unity releases energy into the world, and I believe this is why people sing at stadiums during sports events.
Beyond Futbol - Can We Really Use Magic for Change?
My answer is neither overly optimistic, nor pessimistic. Before 2025, this post wouldn't even be finished. I fear sharing and interacting in general. Fear constantly leads me into extreme discomfort, which leads me to isolate, which leads me into cycles of hopelessness if I look too much at what people regularly post on socials.
But these reflection on that entire month of the 2022 World Cup and how it united not only Argentinians inside Argentina, but also fans from around the world (I'll never forget the videos from Bangladesh, for example), those moments make me rethink my own moments of fatalism, even if only for a while. I can sense that strength. We were the 12th player. We were that force that made Martinez's leg stop that final attempt in the very last minutes of extra time. We were the force that made some of the French players fail their final kicks. Todos fuimos Montiel.
What if we could unleash that strength again? We could. I know now that we could. But I'm also aware of the difficulties and constantly fabricated distractions. I am aware of the fear, the high stakes, the lives lost, and the sense of time slipping away. I am aware of the pain that comes with failed attempts in everyday things and at a larger scale.
This post isn't to give a quick and easy sense of positivity that would vanish with the next horrible social media post about disaster. This is only someone's reflection about her witnessing and direct participation in something halfway explained: how sustained and focused energy truly influences the world. For now many of us call it magic and leave it at that. But what if there's more to it? What if there is power in the things we do, think and say everyday? What if it isn't some scientific jargon about physics? What if we organized and focused our strength? What if we became the 12th player in the game of life itself?
I simply want you to know that you matter.
Thank you for reading this.