The atmosphere around Villa Park on November 6, 2025, was tense and unusual. In a Europa League clash that should have been simply about football, Aston Villa hosted Maccabi Tel Aviv in Birmingham, but the away section sat eerily empty. No Maccabi fans were allowed to attend. The decision, taken by Birmingham’s Safety Advisory Group—a body including West Midlands Police and the city council—would spark a storm of political backlash, community consternation, and national debate about policing, intelligence, and the specter of antisemitism in British sport.
The controversy began with a risk assessment. West Midlands Police classified the fixture as high risk, citing intelligence and previous incidents involving Maccabi Tel Aviv’s ultras. According to Chief Constable Craig Guildford, “The information provided from the Dutch was very, very clear in terms of they reflected on the days before, during and after the match as a result of clashes between the Maccabi ultras and the local Muslim community.” He described the group as “very well organised, militaristic in the way that they operated,” recounting incidents from a 2024 match in Amsterdam where, he claimed, “they attacked members of the local community, including taxi drivers. Tore down flags. People were thrown into the river.”
This intelligence, however, was quickly called into question. Dutch police disputed the British force’s account, reportedly telling The Sunday Times that the claims were not recognized by their officers. The Israeli embassy in London accused British police of relying on “disproven allegations,” calling the use of this intelligence “profoundly misleading, extremely troubling, and risks inflaming tensions.” Lord Mann, the government’s independent adviser on antisemitism, told the Home Affairs Committee that only one flag had been torn down and a single incident with a taxi driver had occurred on that night in Amsterdam, far less than the extensive violence suggested by the British dossier.
On the day of the match, Villa Park was swarmed by more than 700 police officers. Outside the stadium, hundreds of pro-Palestinian supporters and a smaller group of pro-Israeli protesters gathered, waving banners and voicing their positions. Despite the charged atmosphere, the event passed without serious disorder and resulted in only a handful of arrests—an outcome that led some to question whether the ban on away fans had been necessary at all.
The decision to exclude Maccabi Tel Aviv’s supporters was met with fierce criticism from across the political spectrum. Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer was among the most vocal, declaring, “We will not tolerate antisemitism on our streets,” and emphasizing that the police’s role is “to ensure all football fans can enjoy the game, without fear of violence or intimidation.” The move was widely interpreted as an overreach, with some accusing officials of caving to pressure and setting a dangerous precedent for the exclusion of fans based on nationality or religion.
Adding fuel to the fire, West Midlands Assistant Chief Constable Mike O’Hara appeared before the Home Affairs Committee on December 1, 2025, to justify the force’s actions. When pressed by committee chair Karen Bradley about whether Jewish community representatives had said they did not want Maccabi fans present, O’Hara responded, “Yes.” He elaborated, “Feedback was documented within the community impact assessment that was clear that there were a range of faiths, backgrounds and ethnicities that were very concerned about this fixture.” When asked again if Jewish people specifically had raised concerns, he confirmed, “Yes. It was documented within the CIA from the beginning of September.”
These remarks quickly drew ire from within Birmingham’s Jewish community. One local source told The Sunday Times that O’Hara’s comments were a “twisted” distortion of the facts, and that consultation with Jews in Birmingham had been minimal. The police, they said, were using the community as a shield to deflect criticism. The backlash was swift and public, with many Jewish leaders expressing frustration at being invoked in support of a controversial ban they had not explicitly endorsed.
Realizing the gravity of his statements, Assistant Chief Constable O’Hara penned a letter to Jewish community representatives to clarify his position. “I am aware that there is some consternation within the local Jewish community about what I presented on Monday. There were a number of questions asked, often with several parts and secondary points. Please can I apologise and make very clear that it was not my intention to imply that there were members of the Jewish community who had explicitly expressed support for the exclusion of Maccabi fans,” he wrote. O’Hara further acknowledged, “From my perspective that is not the case and I will ensure this is clearly articulated when I respond to the further written questions we are anticipating.”
A spokesperson for West Midlands Police echoed this sentiment, stating, “It was never the intention of the officer to imply that there were members of the Jewish community who had explicitly expressed support for the exclusion of Maccabi fans.” The force emphasized its ongoing engagement with the Jewish community, acknowledging the difficult time the controversy had caused and promising further dialogue and clarification both with community leaders and the Home Affairs Committee.
Behind the scenes, the Safety Advisory Group’s decision was based on a dossier referencing the 2024 Amsterdam match, which claimed that out of 2,800 Israeli fans, more than 200 were linked to the Israeli Defence Forces and that between 500 and 600 “intentionally targeted Muslim communities.” It also alleged that fans threw “innocent members of the public into the river” and that 5,000 Dutch police officers were deployed in response. Yet, with Dutch authorities refuting the scale and nature of these incidents, the reliability of the intelligence underpinning the fan ban has come under intense scrutiny.
Chief Constable Guildford, however, stood by the risk assessment. He insisted Dutch police commanders were “unequivocal” in their warnings, stating, “they would never want to have Maccabi Tel Aviv playing in Amsterdam in the future.” He described the “ultras” as deliberately targeting the local Muslim community and recounted that “members of the local wider Muslim community subsequently reacted and deliberately, on the day after mainly, attacked Maccabi fans on match day both before the match and after.”
As the dust settles, West Midlands Police have reiterated their commitment to transparency and engagement. “We provided a full and comprehensive explanation to MPs on the information, intelligence and risk assessment process that took place prior to the football match last month and we will continue to respond to follow-up questions raised by the HASC and actively engage with His Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary & Fire and Rescue Services’ (HMICFRS) wider work commissioned by the Home Secretary,” a spokesperson said.
For now, the empty stands at Villa Park on that November night serve as a stark reminder of how football can become a flashpoint for broader social and political tensions. The debate over the Maccabi fan ban is far from over, with questions about intelligence, consultation, and community relations still demanding answers. As further committee hearings and public dialogues unfold, all eyes remain on Birmingham—and on the future of fan inclusion in European football.
