Why we need to understand the rise of the Ultras in Scottish football

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There are countless columns written every week about Scottish football, and I couldn’t do justice to what’s happening on the pitch - that’s definitely not where my expertise lies. At a game I often listen to the radio commentary through one earphone while frequently turning to the knowledgeable people around me to ask, “What just happened?” probably to their quiet annoyance.

What I truly love is the crowd. Scots turn out in remarkable numbers to watch football - among the highest attendance rates in the world. Rainy afternoons don’t deter them; whole families arrive wrapped in scarves and warm jackets, united by tradition and loyalty. I adore that sense of camaraderie - the buzz before kick-off, the shared anticipation, and the way the crowd becomes one. When a goal is scored, I’m usually watching the people rather than the pitch - strangers clutching each other in joy or despair, momentarily bound together.

In an age where so much of life is lived online, and where young people especially are growing up in digital spaces, football remains one of the few mass participation events that brings people together in the real world. In Scotland, the desire to gather physically, to be part of something, is powerful. Nowhere is this more visible than in football, week after week, year after year.

Recently, another phenomenon has become more prominent: the rise of the Ultras. These are passionate, noisy, and highly organised fan groups, often clustered in one section of the stadium. They’re responsible for tifos - those dramatic visual displays with banners - and they bring colour, energy, and spectacle. But alongside that, there have been instances of disorder, violence, and the use of pyrotechnics. Once mostly associated with larger clubs, Ultras are now present across Scotland, in almost every division. These self-identified groups have their own rules, dress codes, and identities. One club manager recently said he has seen children as young as eight among Ultra groups, and young people becoming involved in “organised disorder” - a phrase that sounds like an oxymoron.

I’ve seen this before. The desire to belong, the group norms, the escalation of behaviour that wouldn’t happen in isolation - it’s familiar from my work with gangs. I once asked a young man why he joined a gang. He said, “Without it, I’m nothing.” That pull towards belonging, towards something larger, is fierce. I’ve watched Ultra groups arrive in uniform, coordinated and purposeful. I’ve seen parents and children split up outside stadiums - the young ones heading to the Ultra section, the adults elsewhere.

There is no doubt this phenomenon presents challenges for policing and safety, and those must be addressed. But we also need to recognise that being part of something can be positive. Both things can be true. We should encourage prosocial behaviour, while being clear-eyed about what is unacceptable and cannot be allowed to flourish, whether in football or on our streets. Human behaviour, including criminal behaviour, changes continuously and responds to outside pressures and influences, a reaction to the world outside. This is a reaction too, and as we clamp down on the violence that sometimes occurs, we also have to understand where it comes from, why it pulls people in, and what they find there.

Karyn McCluskey is chief executive of Community Justice Scotland