How an unsolicited kiss at the Women's World Cup gave Spain its "Me Too" moment

Raging debate

This action has since become a matter of raging debate in Spain and beyond, eclipsing the success of the World Cup squad. Initially, the RFEF sprang to Rubiales' defence, insisting the kiss was consensual. Rubiales himself called it 'a peck – no tongue.'

Now words are important here. I don't know enough Spanish to be sure about its lexicon for describing this type of physical interaction. However, British slang would certainly have come to the president's rescue.

In all fairness, that was no peck. It wasn't even a simple kiss. In terms of duration and intimacy, what the world witnessed was something any schoolgirl or boy would recognise as a snog.

Leaving aside his momentary indifference to court protocol, none of Rubiales' behaviour would have been particularly objectionable, had he bothered to clear it with the team members beforehand and received their enthusiastic consent.

The reason why the kiss/peck/snog emerged as the most controversial of Rubiales' actions was Hermoso's assertion afterwards that she had not enjoyed it. This assertion was later confirmed when the player denied that she considered it consensual. On the contrary, she said she felt like "the victim of aggression, a sexist act."

The RFEF were at first keen to support their president against such accusations. They accused the player of having denied initially that there was any wrongdoing. When the whole squad and most of its coaches announced they would go on strike for as long as Rubiales remained in his post, dark threats were muttered about legal action against them.

The claim was even made that Jenni Hermoso had picked the president up off the ground. Is it possible that the mad intention behind this desperate fib was to imply that she had not bothered to get Rubiales' consent?

Rubiales defiant and unapologetic

At an Extraordinary General Assembly on 25 August, despite swirling rumours that he was about to quit, Rubiales put paid to the speculation, defiantly announcing that he would not resign.

He then added that he would definitely not be resigning. Finally, for the avoidance of confusion, he told the assembled officials and members of the press that his resignation would not be tendered.

For this performance, which included not a hint of apology, the beleaguered president received a standing ovation from the floor, though admittedly the women present seemed a little less eager to get to their feet.

Later still, Rubiales demonstrated his ignorance of the tired old maxim that those in a hole should stop digging. Wielding a large verbal shovel, he accused his critics of displaying 'fake feminism.'

Since then, however, the reaction from society as a whole would suggest that Rubiales is losing the argument. 

He may even be a lone male chauvinist, the last of an obsolete species.

Suspension and possible criminal charge

FIFA was the first body to put the boot in, declaring his continuation in the job unacceptable. Then the RFEF reversed their view on the matter.

After a six-hour emergency session over the weekend, they came to the unanimous decision that Rubiales would have to be suspended for 90 days, pending an investigation by the Public Prosecutors Office. The implication is that Rubiales may well be charged with sexual harassment, which is a criminal offence.

The public, meantime, has taken to the streets to express their dismay at his behaviour, and the government itself has weighed in, with Yolanda Diaz, Spain's Deputy Prime Minister, telling the press 'Our country is a role model when it comes to equality and this behaviour has nothing to do with the country we represent.'

It would appear, to use the conventional parlance on these occasions, that Rubiales' position 'has become untenable'.

His family complains that a witch hunt is underway. One of his cousins, Vanessa Ruiz Béjar, told reporters that "his family has suffered a lot. We had to leave our homes. They keep harassing us and it's not fair."

His biggest supporter, however, has been his mother, Ángeles Béjar. Disgusted by the treatment of her son, she is currently holed up in the Church of the Divine Shepherdess in Motril, southern Spain, and is refusing food until the authorities bring to an end the "inhuman and bloody hunt they are conducting against my son – something he doesn't deserve."

Roisin Lanagan, writing in the 'i' newspaper and speaking as the daughter of a Catholic family, said she recognised the type of mother whose son can do no wrong.

The scene in the church, she said, was 'dripping in Catholic iconography – stoic, suffering mother, son considered messianic and misunderstood, hunger strike as a form of piety and protest.'

Despite his mum's choice of sanctuary, it would be glib to characterise this as a battle between the old Catholic Spain and its modern, Almodovar incarnation. Even the right-wing Vox party, which has its doubts about feminism, has been known to argue against immigration from Maghreb countries on the basis that such individuals are more likely than Hispanics to oppose women's rights.

The left-wing government, meanwhile, has referred to this whole scandal as Spanish football's "Me Too" moment. But it was one of the World Cup players and a former captain of the national team, Alexia Putellas, who gave this homegrown movement its own hashtag. 

After Rubiales raucously declared he would stay on and defy the 'fake' feminists, she tweeted: se acabó. (It's over. Enough.)      

A cartoon appeared showing a small girl with a football, talking to her grandmother. "Granny, tell me how you won a World Cup," she asks. "We didn't just win a World Cup, little one," the old lady replies. "We won much more."

Whether the World Cup victory is viewed as a good or a bad day for Spanish feminism depends on the longer-term changes, not solely in the game, but in the attitudes of men and women in the wider society.

It's never easy to prophesy events, but when it comes to exoneration for her son, Señora Béjar may be in for a long wait.