“Ultras” – hardcore football fans known for their incredible stadium displays and gang-like loyalty – were once a subculture found only in Italian stadiums. But since the late 1960s, this movement has spread across football terraces worldwide and become a more prominent cultural obsession.
Books on the subject include my own Ultra and James Montague’s 1312 (the numbers stand for ACAB, an abbreviation of “all cops are bastards”). Netflix has not only commissioned one film, Ultras, about a Neapolitan gang, but also three longer series: Puerta 7 (set in Argentina), Furioza, and The Hooligan (both set in Poland).
Now comes Ragnhild Ekner’s documentary Ultras, a 90-minute journey through Sweden, Indonesia, Poland, Argentina, England, Egypt, and Morocco. Her film goes a long way toward exploring the roots of ultra-mania. Many of the lingering shots show thousands of people marching, singing, and celebrating together. In an early voiceover, Ekner calls it “an uprising against loneliness.”
In many ways, ultra-dom provides exactly what modern society lacks: a sense of community in a time of isolation, danger and adrenaline in a world that feels strangely bloodless, old-fashioned masculinity and strength in an era of soft skills, and belonging in a time of rootlessness. “It’s where I feel at home,” says one ultra in Ekner’s film. “Inside, we’re a family,” says another, “and we take care of each other.”
Ultras are the only loud, passionate link to the soil where the club was born. Only they bring passion to the sanitized, modern football experience.
Some might be put off by these ideas, but many – including women – are not. One female ultra, describing her own barra brava (the South American term for an ultra gang), says: “You can’t come into the terraces with a ring, or with lipstick, or with makeup,” as if that ban were freeing. Ekner’s film does a good job of unpacking the contradictions: there are terraces where women are excluded (in North Africa) and others (in Indonesia) where young, veiled women take center stage.
The appeal of ultras also comes, one assumes, from the fact that modern football itself is so rootless. Teams now have little connection to their own city or neighborhood. Players and owners come from far-off countries. Shirt ads are in foreign languages for TV viewers abroad. Ultras are the only loud, passionate link to the soil where the club was born. Only they give the clean, cinematic experience of modern football a sense of passion and even meaning.
Another part of their appeal is that they are outlaws and rebels in an age of conformity and control. Ultras played a key role in the Arab Spring in Egypt, and across the global movement, they claim to stand up for the excluded and powerless. “If you cannot speak,” their slogan goes, “the stadium will speak for you.”
In our secular age, being an ultra also offers a way into spiritual ideas. It’s a religion for the non-religious. The ultra vocabulary – “faith,” “presence,” “devotion” – is almost identical to religious language, and like in church, the ultra “congregation” hopes to influence fate through loyalty and ritual.
Being an ultra even introduces that ancient idea at the heart of many religions. One ultra who survived Egypt’s 2012 Port Said massacre (in which 72 Al-Ahly fans died, partly as revenge for their role in the Arab Spring) says: “That’s when I understood one can sacrifice oneself for a higher cause.”
Along with mock-religion, there’s also mock-medievalism. There’s an element of historical reenactment to it all.The ultras play a game of “steal the flag,” sprinting across the pitch to rip down and burn a rival group’s banner—that “hand-painted piece of cloth worth more than gold.” According to their code, if a group’s banner is stolen, they’re supposed to disband immediately, so “it must be protected at all costs.”
That naturally includes violence. “Subcultures have always been violent,” says one interviewee. “The violence can be aesthetic, verbal, or real, physical violence.” But Ekner openly avoids any negativity, saying her film “isn’t a critical review, it’s a tribute.” In doing so, she might miss the main reason ultras remain so fascinating: their ties to crime. Because beneath all the carnival atmosphere of fireworks and massive terrace artwork (using 25 kilometers of thread and 150 liters of paint), and behind all the beer, joints, and fistfights, ultra gangs have often turned into criminal ones.
In Italy, some ultra leaders are full-blown mobsters, making five-figure sums each month not just from ticket scalping, merchandise, food trucks, and parking deals, but also from large-scale drug trafficking. Across Europe, stadium terraces have become hotbeds of political experimentation, with ultras fueling the rise of the far-right.
Ultras are incredibly contradictory—both charitable and criminal, unifying and divisive, revolutionary and reactionary. It’s a movement that reflects, like a distorted funhouse mirror, the society and sport it exists in. To ignore those contradictions is to miss the true essence of being an ultra: you gain a lot—belonging, roots, and tribal loyalty—but at the cost of bringing back those familiar negatives: a need for shame, scapegoating, silence, brute force, and contempt for difference and diversity. Ultras show us not only what we’ve lost along the way, but also the price of getting it back. Tobias Jones is the author of Ultra: The Underworld of Italian Football. Ragnhild Ekner’s documentary Ultras is in selected cinemas now.
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs about the cultural obsession with football ultras and the uprising against loneliness
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What exactly is an ultra
An ultra is a highly dedicated and organized football fan Unlike a regular supporter ultras actively choreograph displays and often have a strong sometimes political identity tied to their group
2 Why are people saying this is an uprising against loneliness
Many ultras groups function like a second family In a world where people feel more isolated joining a group with a shared passion strong rituals and a clear enemy creates instant belonging and community
3 Is this just about football
No While football is the stage the obsession goes deeper Its about identity rebellion against modern sanitized life and finding a tribe The cultural obsession refers to how artists filmmakers and writers are now fascinated by this lifestyle
4 Are ultras just hooligans
No While there can be overlap hooligans focus on fighting Ultras focus on atmosphere and support Most ultras are nonviolent but the intense passion can sometimes lead to clashes especially against police or rival groups
5 How do you join an ultra group
Its not easy You usually have to prove your loyalty by attending every game buying the groups merchandise and participating in the choreography Its a serious commitment not a casual hobby
AdvancedLevel Questions
6 How do ultras create that loneliness antidote effect
Through ritualistic solidarity The synchrony of chanting jumping and waving flags triggers a collective emotional high For a few hours the individual disappears into the mass providing a powerful escape from personal isolation
7 Why have ultras become a cultural obsession for nonfans
Because they represent authenticity In a world of curated social media and corporate events ultras are raw loud and unapologetically tribal Documentaries and books are obsessed with them because they offer a glimpse into a primal form of community that modern society has lost
8 What are the common problems within ultra culture
