The description of the game of cricket as a metaphor for life has never been as apt as now, in the midst of the so- called “Hansiegate” match-fixing scandal. As allegations and disclosures pour forth testifying to the self-serving greed which inspired these heroes of times so recently gone by, the impulse of the holy to flee the fundamental baseness of man must be familiar to many a worshipful cricket fan. And, although spouses may attempt to persuade them to cancel their bookings at the nearest hermitage with reassurances that “it’s only a game”, those who appreciate the game simply know it not to be true. The lessons learned on the moth-eared playing fields of Eton were for an elite, but those learned in modern stadiums and broadcast into offices and homes across this country and around the world have a far more powerful pupillage.
The appearance of an understanding of the importance of games to the national psyche was given by the government’s decision that the King inquiry should be founded in the authority of a judge. But the decision of the authorities to promise former national captain Hansie Cronje immunity against prosecution if he “tells all” threatens to give the lie to that perception.
Leadership is important to cricket, as it is to life. A leader assumes authority in return for responsibility. The principle, a truism on the playing field, is well recognised in the field of criminal justice where the priority of law enforcement in nailing the “godfathers” of crime is a given. If granting immunity to Cronje is intended to capture subordinate players it would be comparable to Al Capone being allowed to keep his freedom in return for snitching on a couple of his bootleggers.
There is, of course, the possibility that immunity has been dangled in pursuit of other aims. If the intention was to expose corrupt umpires, or administrators, then the device is perhaps to be applauded, the corruption of the “establishment” – comparable to judges and senior civil servants – being arguably even more corrosive than that of the passing captain and the existing team. In much the same way considerations of national interest may be considered to supersede “ordinary” justice even where an Al Capone is concerned.
But, as we well know in this country, arguments about the “national interest” serve, more often than not, to obscure the interests of the nation. In that regard there is a lingering suspicion that the decision to allow Cronje indemnity might have been to spare the country the shame of his criminal trial. Similarly, the testimony before Judge Edwin King this week by Dr Ali Bacher – a rambling litany of vague suspicions and seemingly unsubstantiated allegations about the activities of foreign players – smacked disturbingly of what the charitable might describe as a patriotic instinct to spread the blame. We would caution them that questions of national pride are inextricably bound up with the precious understanding, which used to be considered the preserve of cricket, of how we should play the larger game.
Questions on land plan
A government plan to transfer a third of all farm land to black South Africans in coming years is a worthwhile beginning to our attempts to correct the skewed patterns of property ownership bequeathed by apartheid. The principle it seeks to establish – that the state should provide a form of financial assistance to those blacks putting up their own capital to buy agricultural land – may be appropriate in view of the size of the task, its importance to South Africa’s social and political stability, and the unlikelihood that commercial lenders will become involved on the scale necessary without serious state backing for the scheme.
Our support for the plan is, however, limited by two major reservations. First, we are not convinced that the appropriate form for state support for new black farm owners is a system of grants, the size of which is determined by the amount of private capital an aspirant farmer lays out. We must break with the insidious handout culture that has developed in South Africa. Would it not be preferable to employ a system of loans, rather like that now being used – with some success – to promote small businesses? Khula, a state agency, provides wholesale finance to commercial and NGO lenders for onward lending to aspirant small business people. This could be adapted to the needs of the black farming sector. The government may also wish to consider breaking with free-market Holy Grail and introducing a system of subsidised interest rates for these new black farmers.
Some will have reservations about the fact that the plan aims to create a class of commercial farmers. They will argue that the R5,5-billion the formulators of the plan suggest should be allocated over the next five years would be better spent on a scheme to resettle the hundreds of thousands of displaced and landless rural people. The needs of the rural poor must be addressed – but not, we believe, at the expense of creating a class of productive, commercially viable black farmers. Those of the rural poor who are unable or unwilling to farm should be encouraged under a coherent policy and set of incentives to live in urban areas where adequate services and housing are provided. Potentially productive land must be used for productive farming.
Our second major reservation about the plan is the more significant. We question whether now is the time to spend what will be well in excess of R5,5-billion to transfer assets from one group of South Africans to another, when this finance could, instead, be channelled into small business finance and job creation for the many millions of poor and unemployed in both urban and rural areas. This is surely a greater priority now.