In football folklore, few stories are as charmingly strange as this one. The Indian national team, impressively qualified for the 1950 World Cup in Brazil, but allegedly declined to play because FIFA wouldn’t let them play barefoot. That’s right. Barefoot…
At the time, Indian professionals were unaccustomed to boots. The story goes that the team were so offended by the idea of lacing up that they chose not to compete at all. However, like many good stories, it isn’t true.
After gaining independence from Britain in 1947, India sent its national team to the 1948 London Olympics, where they faced France in their first ever international tie. The Indian side battled admirably, but were beaten 2-1.
Most of the team played barefoot, leaving British spectators and international press baffled. It wasn’t uncommon for Indian players to go without footwear in domestic football. Some preferred it for comfort, while others simply couldn’t afford boots. The soft pitches at home were conducive to barefoot play, but the dry, boot-worn grounds of the international stage would cause more problems for Indian soles.
But this wasn’t a Gandhi-inspired resistance to Western footwear. India’s captain at the time, Sailen Manna, later explained: “We didn’t have the habit of wearing boots.”
Simple as that. The players just weren’t used to them. If today’s professionals tried to play in the stiff leather boots of the 1940s, they would certainly sympathise.
During the qualifying campaign for the 1950 World Cup, most of the Asian heavy hitters pulled out, leaving India to sail into the tournament by default. Not exactly a rousing underdog success story, but it was a ticket to the World Cup for a nation with minimal footballing experience on the global stage. But the moment came and went, because India never reached Brazil.
Somewhere along the way, the myth emerged that India withdrew because FIFA had the audacity to insist their players wear boots. The barefoot warriors apparently couldn’t bear to abandon tradition and chose to forfeit their place on principle.
The truth of the matter is ever so slightly more mundane - and disappointing for Indian fans. First of all, there were money problems. India’s national federation, the AIFF, wasn’t rolling in rupees at the time. Sending a team halfway around the world to South America wasn’t cheap, and travel expenses alone were enough to give the federation second thoughts.
This wasn’t just a matter of booking a few plane tickets either. In the early 1950s, reaching Brazil from was a logistical nightmare involving multiple legs, stop-overs and connections. This was enough to give the AIFF headaches, despite the fact various regional associations in the country had offered to club together and raise the required funds to see their side play in the tournament
However, in 1950, FIFA hadn’t quite built the World Cup into the glittering global phenomenon it is today - or even was 20 years on. In the eyes of the AIFF, the Olympics still held more prestige. After India’s performances in London two years prior, the federation were more focused on preparing for the 1952 Helsinki Games.
So, rather than putting their eggs in the World Cup basket by funding and organising a last-minute trip to South America, India decided to sit this one out. No barefoot protest. No heroic stand against studded footwear. Just a boring combination of financial constraints, travel complications and ill-judged priorities.
Had India made the trip to Brazil in 1950, who knows what might have happened? While they were always unlikely to bring the Jules Rimet trophy home, a solid run and an attention-grabbing attempt could have been a landmark moment for Indian football.
Instead, the national side’s absence left behind a ‘what if?’ conundrum that still lingers today. Football in India has struggled to reach the level that many had once hoped for, as cricket bowled ahead to dominate the nation’s sporting landscape in the late 20th century.
While the myth of the barefoot protest may be just that, it says something about football’s ability to capture the imagination. Even in its absence, 1950 remains an intriguing fork in the road for India’s sporting story. While the World Cup snub may be a bitter pill to swallow for football fans, it could conceivably have been a vitally important moment for the country’s cricketing success.
Regardless, isn’t football a little more fun with myths like these?