“Global coverage did not dwell on the love Indian fans have for football. Instead, it focused on anger, mismanagement and disorder. The underlying message was unmistakable. Passion in India is abundant, but planning and crowd management remain suspect. Once such a narrative takes hold, it is difficult to dislodge. For international audiences unfamiliar with India’s diversity, one chaotic stadium becomes representative of a billion people.
The real tragedy is that this chaos was avoidable. Fans did not erupt out of thin air. They reacted to broken promises, poor communication and the feeling of being treated as props rather than participants.”
What unfolded in Kolkata during Lionel Messi’s visit was not merely a sporting embarrassment. It was a reputational wound that travelled far beyond the boundaries of Salt Lake Stadium and into the global imagination. In an era where images travel faster than explanations, visuals of angry fans hurling chairs and bottles became shorthand for how India handles global icons, mass events and public expectations. The damage was not local. It was national.
India today is eager to project itself as a confident, competent host for international summits, sporting spectacles and cultural showcases. From G20 meetings to Olympic ambitions, the pitch is clear. We are ready for the world. That is why the Kolkata episode mattered so much. It punctured that narrative in the most public way possible. What should have been a soft power moment turned into a cautionary tale.
Global coverage did not dwell on the love Indian fans have for football. Instead, it focused on anger, mismanagement and disorder. The underlying message was unmistakable. Passion in India is abundant, but planning and crowd management remain suspect. Once such a narrative takes hold, it is difficult to dislodge. For international audiences unfamiliar with India’s diversity, one chaotic stadium becomes representative of a billion people.
The real tragedy is that this chaos was avoidable. Fans did not erupt out of thin air. They reacted to broken promises, poor communication and the feeling of being treated as props rather than participants. Tickets were expensive by Indian standards. Many travelled long distances. What they saw was a stage crowded with VIPs, photographers and officials, while the central figure barely interacted with those who had paid to be there. When expectation and reality collide without explanation, frustration turns combustible.
This is where the contrast with Hyderabad and Mumbai becomes instructive. Hyderabad demonstrated what competent organisation can achieve even with the same superstar and similar levels of hype. Crowd movement was controlled, access points were managed, and expectations were aligned with delivery. Messi stayed longer, interacted more and the atmosphere remained celebratory rather than volatile. The crowd responded accordingly. Enthusiasm stayed within the boundaries of order because people felt respected.
Mumbai, too, offered a different lesson. The city’s crowd was loud, expressive and emotional, but not destructive. There were chants, surges of excitement and moments of frustration, yet the line was not crossed. This is not accidental. Mumbai’s long exposure to large-scale events, from cricket finals to international concerts, has shaped a culture of crowd behaviour where passion coexists with restraint. People know the drill. Authorities anticipate flashpoints. The system absorbs pressure instead of collapsing under it.
Kolkata’s failure therefore cannot be brushed aside as an inevitable byproduct of football madness. It was a failure of governance, communication and crowd psychology. To frame it merely as unruly fans is to miss the point and unfairly shift blame. Crowds reflect the conditions they are placed in. Treat them as partners in an experience, and they usually respond in kind. Treat them as obstacles to be managed after the fact, and chaos is never far away.
The larger concern is what this signals to the world. International stars, event promoters and sporting bodies watch these moments closely. They assess risk, optics and audience behaviour. When a visit ends with police cases, detentions and viral clips of violence, it raises questions about whether India can be trusted with bigger, more complex events. That hesitation has consequences, economic and symbolic.
India’s image problem here is not about one city versus another. It is about inconsistency. Hyderabad and Mumbai showed that India can get it right. Kolkata showed how quickly things can unravel when preparation gives way to spectacle. Until this gap is addressed, every global event will carry an element of reputational gamble.
The lesson is blunt but necessary. Soft power cannot be improvised. Passion is not a substitute for planning. And global attention is unforgiving. If India wants to be seen as a mature host on the world stage, it must understand that how crowds are treated, guided and respected matters as much as who is invited. The Messi episode should not be dismissed as a one-off mess. It should be treated as a warning.
