Words: Sam White // @samwhxyz
It’s often said that football rivalries become a microcosm of societal issues, but few embody this theory to the extent that Argentina’s Superclásico does. When Boca Juniors and River Plate meet, so do two distinct identities that have shaped Buenos Aires for over a century.
This derby between Argentina’s two most famous clubs has transcended sport, acting as a mirror for the nation’s class divides, historical migration and evolving society. As much as it’s a football match, the Superclásico has been a platform for dialogue on the perceived balance of power between the wealthy and the working classes.
To appreciate the depth of this rivalry, we must dive into its roots and explore how social class, migration and local pride have made Boca Juniors v River Plate the defining clash in South American football and one of such cultural significance.
Boca and River players fighting after a Superclàsico in 2023. The fight resulted in six red cards.
Photo Credit: FanNation Futbol
In the early 20th century, football in Argentina was rapidly evolving, as it was across many former European colonies. Waves of immigrants from Italy and Spain flooded the port of the capital, with a familiar and common goal: a better life.
Many of these new arrivals settled in La Boca, a working-class neighbourhood near the docklands. It was here that Boca Juniors was born in 1905, founded by Italian immigrants who hoped the club would become a hub for their community. Boca’s famous blue and yellow shirts, inspired by the flag of a Swedish ship, became a symbol of local pride. The football club soon grew and came to represent the working classes of the wider urban area.
Just a few years earlier, River Plate had also been established in La Boca, but this club’s trajectory took a different path. Like their rivals, the team’s founders found inspiration at the docks. Noticing crates from a British ship marked ‘River Plate,’ a direct translation of the ‘Río de la Plata’ estuary, they found the name appealing. They also felt that the English name added a touch of prestige. River’s iconic white shirt, with its eye-catching red sash, is said to be inspired by the flag of Genoa.
By 1923, River had upped sticks and migrated north to the leafy Núñez district, an affluent area of the city. This move represented more than a simple change in location - it marked the beginning of a social and economic divide that would come to define the rivalry. River Plate’s association with the middle and upper classes became deeply entrenched, earning them the nickname ‘Los Millonarios’, a reflection of the club’s growing financial power and its well-to-do supporters.
From this point, the perfect storm was brewing. Boca Juniors, rooted in La Boca, supposedly embodied the struggle and determination of the working class, while River Plate, in their plush new home, represented the aspirations of Buenos Aires’ upper echelons. These identities, which developed organically in the early 20th century, would fuel decades of tension both on and off the pitch.
Argentina has long been a nation plagued by class tensions. For much of the 20th century, political and economic instability exacerbated the divisions between rich and poor, and football in the densely populated Buenos Aires served as a battleground. The Superclásico transcends football because it taps into the vein of Argentine society.
La Bombonera, ‘the chocolate box’, is Boca’s instantly recognisable home in the heart of working-class Buenos Aires. Its terrifyingly steep stands and compact layout create an intimate atmosphere that mirrors La Boca itself. Fans proudly refer to themselves as ‘bosteros’ despite the fact that the root word is the Spanish for ‘cow faeces’. The bosteros wear their humble heritage in the livestock industry as a badge of honour, revelling in their identity as the people’s club.
In contrast, River Plate’s Estadio Monumental, the largest stadium in the country, is an impressive amphitheatre located in wealthy Núñez. The Monumental reflects the grandeur and ambition of a club that has long been associated with financial power and prestige. Fans, known as the ‘millonarios’, are proud of their club’s perceived sophistication and technical superiority. For the millonarios, football is about winning with style and demonstrating the attributes that set them apart from the rougher, more physical approach of their city rivals.
During periods of repression, economic uncertainty and social upheaval, the Superclásico has served as an outlet for ‘porteños’. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, during the years of Argentina’s military junta, football was both a tool for the regime and a form of resistance. The far-right regime used the sport, particularly the national side, as propaganda to distract from its atrocities and persecution of political opponents.
In Buenos Aires, the Superclásico provided a literal and figurative arena for fans to express their discontent. Boca’s traditionally left-leaning supporters used matches to vent their frustration with the political establishment, and this sense of rebellion continued in the DNA of their fan culture. Argentina’s 2001 economic crisis was another notable opportunity for La Bombonera to have its say.
Immigrants arrive in Buenos Aires, early 20th century.
Photo Credit: Mangos or Bananas
El Monumental, home of River Plate, photographed from above in 1960.
Photo Credit: Museo River
The fervour surrounding Boca vs River has, at times, crossed the line. One of the darkest days in association football history occurred during the 1968 Superclásico. 71 fans lost their lives in what became known as the ‘Puerta 12 tragedy’. After the match, a mass of fans made their way towards an exit at the Monumental but found it obstructed, resulting in a horrific crush that cost the lives of many teenagers and young adults. The average age of the victims of the tragedy was just 19 years old.
The exact cause of the incident remains a subject of debate and conspiracy after a government inquest was inconclusive. Several eye witness accounts claim that federal police officers were stationed on the street, just outside the exit, assaulting departing fans. This would explain the sudden panic and retreat back into the stadium stairway. It would also explain the absence of autopsies and photographs from the incident.
Only adding to the pain for families and fellow fans, Boca Juniors and River Plate remained silent on the topic for decades. Puerta 12 has since been renamed K, L and now M. It wasn’t until 2008 that River installed a memorial plaque at the site. In 2018, Boca asked their fans for “forgiveness for forgetting” the victims of the tragedy and pledged to honour their memory going forward.
Many fans of Boca Juniors view Puerta 12 as a symbol of the authorities’ disregard for working-class match-goers. This tragic event has since become part of the folklore surrounding the Superclásico and a stark reminder of the dangerous environments rivalries like this, and the mismanagement of crowds, can create.
River Plate’s plaque which commemorates the victims of the Puerta 12 tragedy.
Photo Credit: WikiMedia Commons
The ideological differences between these two clubs doesn’t end on the terraces - they’re reflected on the pitch. Historically, Boca Juniors has been associated with a rugged, physical style of play. Boca teams have been built on grit and worth ethic. Their most celebrated players, including globally renowned legends Diego Maradona, Juan Román Riquelme and Carlos Tevez, were all known for their streetwise qualities - those that resonate with the club’s proudly working-class supporters.
On the other hand, River Plate has built a reputation for a more refined style of football. River has produced some of the most elegant players in Argentina’s history, including the likes of Alfredo Di Stéfano, Enzo Francescoli and Pablo Aimar. These players, known for their technical quality on the ball and their tactical intelligence, embody the traits that River fans hold dear.
The contrast between the two clubs’ on-pitch philosophies adds another layer to the rivalry, with each derby presenting an intriguing contest between differing approaches. One, reflecting hard work and determination; the other, finesse and flair.
Boca Juniors legend Diego Maradona wears the club’s iconic 1982 home strip.
Photo Credit: VERSUS
While we have established the class divide and contrasting football styles which have added fuel to the Superclásico fire, another factor was significant in the mid-20th century.
The rise of the ‘barras bravas’, organised hooligan groups, began to evolve the rivalry in dangerous ways.
Boca Juniors’ ‘La Doce’ (the twelfth) and River Plate’s ‘Los Borrachos del Tablón’ (drunkards of the bleachers) were one step beyond supporter clubs. These ultra groups became powerful entities, socially and financially, capable of influencing club politics, fostering criminal activity and strong-arming players.
The violence associated with the barras bravas manifested during trips abroad for the Copa Libertadores and even when following Argentina to World Cups. Superclásicos, of course, were no exception. With meticulously organised fights between rival groups away from match days or spontaneous clashes inside the stadium, violence was never far away. The formation of the barras bravas, closely tied to the social identity of each club, added more aggression to the rivalry.
Fans greet the River Plate team at a second division match in September 2011, following their relegation from the Primera División.
Photo Credit: The New York Times
As football has become increasingly globalised, the fabric of the Boca-River rivalry has inevitably evolved. Like most major clubs around the world, Boca Juniors and River Plate have attracted international attention, and with it, commercialisation. River, in particular, has benefitted from the influx of money in the sport, with wealthy investors funding their success domestically and on a continental scale.
But instead of sanitising the Superclásico, the growing commercialisation of football has arguably deepened the class divide in Buenos Aires. Boca fans, ever-proud of their club’s roots, sometimes view the injection of cash as a betrayal of their heritage. River supporters, meanwhile, have been more than happy to lean into their image as a club of the elite, embracing their status as one of Argentina’s most prominent institutions.
While widespread fan violence has been on the wane in many parts of the football world, it has been a consistent theme in modern Argentina. The 2018 Copa Libertadores final reminded us of how deeply ingrained this culture of violence is. When Boca and River were set to face off in the second leg of the final at the latter’s home stadium, Boca’s team bus was attacked by supporters.
The ambush resulted in injuries to several players and an eventual relocation of the match to Madrid, with FIFA concerned about the safety of all parties. For many in the city, moving the final to Spain was symbolic of the globalisation of the game.
The team bus of Boca Juniors shortly before coming under attack by rival fans ahead of the Copa Libertadores final in 2018.
Photo Credit: The Independent
The Boca Juniors vs River Plate rivalry is more than just a footballing contest, but an enduring picture of Argentine society’s deep class divides. Together, Boca and River have nurtured a rivalry that attracts international attention to Argentine football, but also serves as a powerful reflection of the nation’s social, economic and cultural tensions.
The Superclásico spotlights heritage in its truest form.
Sam writes the newsletter ‘Maldini’s Chain’, which covers insights and stories from the world of international football, including its culture and history.
https://maldinischain.substack.com/
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