When sport and politics collide

by Simon Longstaff

When the Archbishop of Bulawayo, Pius Ncube, asked Australia’s cricket team not to come to Zimbabwe, questions arose about how Australian players and those who govern the sport in this country should respond. What might the implications of their decision be for other sports – especially with the Beijing Olympic games just over a year away? Simon Longstaff revisits the issues around Australia’s decision to pull out of the Zimbabwe cricket tour.

Some players and administrators claim that sport and politics are distinct categories of human activity and should be kept separate. In a country such as Australia, where the two are so obviously enmeshed as part of daily life, it is hard to take such claims seriously. For example, politicians may attend a book reading or gallery opening out of personal interest, but in pursuit of popular support, they will leap at an opportunity to be seen at the big games; shaking hands with heroes of the day, leading the celebrations and so on.

The sporting establishment is not entirely innocent when it comes to the appropriation of sporting moments for political ends. They play the game in return for a fair whack of public money being invested in the national effort to ‘punch above our weight’ in as many sports as possible. So, having a national team, lauded by national leaders and partially funded by public monies – it seems a bit rich to claim that sport and politics shouldn’t mix.

Besides, should the tour of Zimbabwe have proceeded, it would not have been conducted by a private assortment of gentlemen players. Ricky Ponting and his team were obvious representatives of the Australian people; kitted out in baggy green caps – a quintessential symbol of national identity. For better or for worse, the national team represents the country as a whole – and everyone here (and there) knows it.

As the balance tips away from elite amateur players, for whom a measure of glory once was the principal reward, and towards professionals, whose livelihood is to be found in the playing of games, a further question arises: Is it proper to derive personal benefit by advancing the interests of the oppressors?

Of course, a distinction can be drawn between those who are directly responsible for the harm done and those who indirectly support the conditions under which the harm persists. The perpetrator is clearly more culpable than those inadvertently colluding in the process. However, in such matters – are degrees of culpability really the issue?

Yet, are we too quick to judge? And if we are to judge at all, then how do we ensure that our conclusions are well founded? When it comes to claims of oppression, abuse of human rights and so on, it would be wrong to take all criticisms of foreign governments at face value – especially given that political opponents will frequently overstate their criticism in order to gain support.

So, a sceptical approach to claims of widespread corruption and oppression is justifiable (even required); but only up to a point. Some countries are at least as bad as we think them to be – and often a lot worse. All of the evidence available suggests that Zimbabwe is one such place.

In the end, during the lead up to the final decision that Australia would not participate in the tour, the questions raised about whether to go to Zimbabwe or not should have been more informed by the views of those who bear the brunt of oppression. It’s a bit rough to presume that our cricketers’ turning up would have been a ‘good thing’ for those who had to stay behind after the tourists had gone.

If a legitimate opposition, speaking for a silenced majority, had said: “Please come over, your presence would be an immense help in drawing attention to our plight”, then by all means, our cricketers should have gone. However, it was the case that legitimate representatives of the oppressed asked, with dignity, for our players to stay away. As this was the case, how in all good conscience could they have gone?

But what of China in 2008? There are plenty of people ready to claim that China’s record on human rights is up there with Mugabe’s. However, at this stage, I am not aware of a growing movement to boycott their Olympic games.

Some might suggest that this is because people realise that the costs of doing so would be vast – greatly exceeding anything that might flow from defying Zimbabwe. The scale of embarrassment that a boycott would cause the Chinese Government would be, for them, literally unforgivable. Even the existence of self-evident, mutual interests would not save Australia from China’s icy wrath. Trade, diplomacy, security – all would be at stake. And then there would be the disappointment of athletes who have given their all to prepare for the ultimate trial of their ability in Beijing.

The precedent of the Moscow boycott suggests that if a serious enough case could be made against China, then a boycott is possible. No doubt, credible accounts of gross abuse are at hand. However, unlike the situation in Zimbabwe, there is also evidence that significant pockets of improvement are to be found across China.

Its citizens may not enjoy political freedom, but the material conditions of their lives are on the rise. The environment may be horribly polluted – but there is massive investment in programs of control and abatement. Corruption infests the ranks of the government and party – but tolerance of the worst forms of abuse is on the wane. Ordinary Chinese – and not just the elites – are sharing in the benefits of reform.

Nothing like this can be said of Zimbabwe.

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Dr Simon Longstaff is Executive Director of St James Ethics Centre.

A version of this article was first published in The Sunday Age on 21 January 2007.

© St James Ethics Centre

© St James Ethics Centre