I GREW up in an environment in which rugby was the very=20 emblem of a system of values specifically associated=20 with the Afrikaner. (My father, whose knowledge and=20 love of English literature was impressive, refused=20 throughout his life to listen to any broadcast of=20 religion or rugby in English.) Among the highlights of=20 my schooldays were Fred Allen’s All Black tour of South=20 Africa in 1949 and Hennie Muller’s Springbok tour of=20 Britain in 1951-52. I can remember how pupils and=20 teachers alike fulminated against the presence of the=20 “bloody Englishman” Basil Kenyon and the “bloody Jew”=20 Cecil Moss in “our” teams.=20
But ever since I began to cut my political teeth on the=20 Sharpeville massacre of 1960, the identification of=20 Springbok rugby teams with Afrikaner values became=20 problematic. My admiration for the brilliance of=20 players like Frik du Preez, Jannie Engelbrecht, HO de=20 Villiers, Morne du Plessis and others was offset more=20 and more by misgivings about what those teams had come=20 to represent. As a result, for some 30 years I was a=20 fervent supporter of any foreign team the Springboks=20 played against.
Even during the transition years since 1991, the=20 chauvinistic arrogance of so many South African teams=20 continued to coincide with that of the political=20 establishment, leaving me unable to root unequivocally=20 for the Boks.
Then came May 25 and the opening of the rugby World=20 Cup. The way in which President Mandela on that=20 occasion adopted “his boys”, and the enthusiasm with=20 which, in front of a television audience estimated at=20 over two billion, the predominantly white crowd=20 responded with “Nel-son! Nel-son! Nel-son! Nel-son!”,=20 as well as the sparkling game itself which ensued,=20 dissolved my last remaining doubts.
But soon afterwards the first round was concluded with=20 that encounter between South Africa and Canada which=20 has now taken its place in the record books as the=20 dirtiest Test ever played (once again in front of a=20 public running into millions). And this event has=20 prompted me to re-examine my attitude to the game of=20 rugby, the role of dirty play within it, and its place=20 in the political, cultural and moral framework of South=20
Much of the attraction of rugby lies in its extreme=20 physicality. But its full fascination is determined by=20 the way in which brute force and athletic speed are=20 married to quick thinking, the ingenuity and=20 anticipation of a chess player, the absorption of the=20 individual within a large, fluid motion, the creation=20 of moving patterns and changing rhythms.
At its best rugby acquires a poetry of its own,=20 characterised by rapid changes of tempo, and unexpected=20 switches of direction, played at many levels=20 simultaneously, and involving the totality of the human=20 person: body, mind and imagination; memory and=20 foresight — all of it pushed to the extreme. Which is=20 why it is balanced on such a precarious knife-edge: if=20 a good game accords physical and emotional delight, a=20 bad one can be awful beyond description.
If rugby has the potential to demonstrate the best of=20 which a player is capable, it can also encapsulate the=20 worst. The way a game turns out may be determined by=20 the players, the coach, the referee, the spectators,=20 the overall cultural context within which it is played.=20 And this is where foul play becomes a marker of larger=20
Because the game is so relentless by its very nature,=20 the borders between the permissible and the=20 inadmissible are not always very clear-cut. Both are=20 inherently violent. But surely the distinction between=20 hard play and foul play lies in the resort of the=20 latter to violence of an underhand, malicious,=20 treacherous kind. It is a condition of foul play that=20 it is not supposed to come to light, to be exposed,=20 because it is not directed towards the unfolding of the=20 game but to private goals of rage or revenge, to “get=20 at” a specific opponent, to “prove” oneself. It=20 foregrounds the individual, not the team.
In some societies foul play is countered by an ethos=20 that defines the community as a whole (the old- fashioned English concept of “fair play”); in others,=20 the dominant ethos favours and promotes foul play –=20 especially where the community as a whole experiences=20 feelings of insecurity or suspicion, of living under=20 threat. The near-destruction of Afrikanerdom in the=20 Anglo-Boer war, following what they perceived as a=20 “century of injustice”, created a profound resentment=20 (still evident today) that could not be resolved either=20 by open confrontation (which might lead to another=20 humiliation) or by rational discussion (since emotion=20 continued to cloud thinking).
The only way to “get at” the enemy (and very soon the=20 enemy came to include all manifestations of a=20 threatening Other) was through underhand tactics,=20 comparable perhaps to the strategies of the French=20 Resistance when it was impossible to confront the Nazis=20 outright. This had a pertinent influence on relations=20 with the massive majority of black South Africans whose=20 mere presence instilled in Afrikaners a deep and all- encompassing fear of being submerged.
In due course, prompted by a Calvinist conscience, the=20 apartheid regime created an awe-inspiring system of=20 laws in order to sanction the dirty play of race=20 relations; but this very system encouraged an ever more=20 excessive recourse to foul play, as this strategy for=20 survival had by now become part of the Afrikaner=20
On the playing fields themselves, foul play came to=20 elicit admiration. South African greatest rugby heroes=20 — Jaap Bekker, Mannetjies Roux, Uli Schmidt and their=20 ilk — tended to be those known to instil terror in=20 their opponents through the violence of their dirty=20
In these circumstances foul play is supported by the=20 whole community, so how can it not continue to thrive?=20 The school principals and coaches who regularly go=20 public with their pious commitment to stamping out=20 every sign of foul play in their teams are often=20 themselves past masters in the game of saying one thing=20 and doing another: after all, hypocrisy is both a=20 condition and a symptom of foul play. It formed the=20 basis of the erstwhile Foreign Minister Pik Botha’s=20 entire handling of international relations.=20
Foul play has by now become a way of life. In sport,=20 the actions of players on the field are, the critics=20 say, replicated by administrators in their offices. Sam=20 Ramsamy, in charge of South Africa’s Olympic bid, has=20 been under the spotlight for some aspects of his=20 dealings with the Cape Town city fathers. Officials in=20 netball, table tennis, etc, introduce racial quotas,=20 not so much to promote their various sports as to=20 consolidate their own positions in larger political=20 games — and rugby boss Louis Luyt is no exception.=20
In the broader political context, shady deals threaten=20 to become the rule, not the exception. Following the=20 example set by Afrikaners, the new leaders have begun=20 to do unto others what once was done to them; even=20 cabinet ministers thrive on kickbacks, perks and well- oiled palms. Most disconcerting of all was the recent=20 impression created by President Mandela himself,=20 dealing with Buthelezi’s maddening manoeuvres, and in=20 keeping silent about his own role in last year’s Shell=20 House massacre, of descending to the level of dirty=20
Perhaps the crucial question about foul play is the=20 reaction to its disclosure. And this may well be the=20 most alarming aspect of the game between the Springboks=20 and Canada. Nowhere in the Afrikaans media was there=20 any hint of an acknowledgment that the Boks were=20 guilty. All the indignation was directed at the=20 referee, the members of the disciplinary committee, the=20 organisers of the World Cup, even at the TV cameramen=20 who had dared to expose the offenders.
The paranoid syndrome of victimology has been developed=20 by Afrikaners to a fine art, ever since the British=20 first set foot in Southern Africa as rulers of the=20 Cape, until and including PW Botha’s obsession with a=20 “total onslaught”. Everything is always blamed on=20 somebody else.=20
The victim syndrome usually manifests itself in=20 oppressed or marginalised minorities; so at first sight=20 it might seem curious that Afrikaners should have=20 constructed their notion of divine election and=20 superiority on their conviction of being victims. But=20 it becomes comprehensible if it is seen as a strongly=20 male orientated narcissism in which self-centredness=20 and self-righteousness are no more than defence=20 mechanisms contrived by a pathological sensitivity to=20 criticism. It is a collective persecution complex=20 revealing an almost terrifying insecurity. I’m not=20 suggesting for a moment that the Canadian team was=20 blameless; there was a great deal of persistent=20 provocation. But surely it is time the Springboks camp=20 and the Afrikaans media started pondering the simple=20 fact that our men are always and everywhere involved in=20 foul play scandals.
Of course it takes two to tango — but must the=20 Springboks always be one of the dancing partners? In=20 the opening World Cup match between the Boks and the=20 Wallabies it was spectacularly demonstrated how hard a=20 game can be without resorting to foul tactics — and=20 without running, sobbing, to Mum afterwards.
This is what worries me about rugby as a symptom of our=20 larger national game — the inability to assume=20 responsibility for what happens. Even in the=20 terminology of the almost obsolete male chauvinist=20 ethos still largely associated with rugby, one might=20 ask the suspended hooker James Dalton, who broke into=20 tears on TV, “Aren’t you supposed to take this like a=20 man?” I suspect that precisely the nature and=20 definition of “masculinity” constitutes much of the=20 problem confronting the Springboks in particular and=20 Afrikaners in general.
What I do find alarming is the impression that what=20 used to be “typical of the Afrikaner” is now in the=20 process of becoming “typical of the South African”,=20 including those victims of yesterday who now occupy the=20 plush seats on the gravy train. Because we were=20 victims, they appear to argue, we are now permitted=20 everything. Because we suffered, it now gives us the=20 right to let others suffer. The mere fact that we were=20 victims gives us a free pass to all forms of foul play.=20
As long as we’re not found out. This was how one=20 television commentator explicitly gave the game away,=20 in discussing the “unjust” punishment meted out to the=20 winger Pieter Hendriks (a reaction which echoed in=20 every way last year’s reaction to the ear-biting=20 incident in New Zealand): not that the man had been=20 guilty, but that he’d been the victim of circumstances=20 because he’d been found out.
As long as South African sports people, and the South=20 African nation, persist in resorting to this dishonest=20 strategy there can be little hope of true progress in=20 human relations, and in terms of morality. What we need=20 is for someone to have the guts at last to stand up and=20 say, “I’m guilty, I acted wrongly, I’m sorry. Let us=20 try again.”