Cricket, at least, is transforming strongly.
There came a point, over an hour into the afternoon’s session last Saturday, when Makhaya Ntini and Paul Adams began to wilt. Under the baking sun they had bowled unchanged since lunch. Ntini had already bowled 15 overs in the day — almost a fast bowler’s
full day complement. And they had bowled magnificently, dragging South Africa back into the Test match by taking four Australian wickets in quick succession — a remarkable performance. Newlands was abuzz, radiating in the proud achievement of the two bowlers.
But as they inevitably tired it became clear that South African captain Mark Boucher had no choice: with great reluctance he was going to have to bring on a white man to bowl.
Now, for the avoidance of doubt, let me be clear. He was not, as far as I am aware, reluctant to bring them on because they are white, but because they had hitherto bowled with such anaemic lack of penetration or purpose; indeed for most of the Test, Boucher was almost completely reliant on his two black bowlers.
Sadly, the trend continued as the Australians Shane Warne and Adam Gilchrist plundered 80 runs in the second hour of the session and the momentum swung crucially away from South Africa.
In a hospitality box, a certain well-known judge was overheard exclaiming, as the hapless (white) debutant Dewald Pretorius was struck for yet another boundary: “Enough! Enough of these affirmative action appointees! Take Pretorius off!”
In the end, a Proteas team containing an unprecedented four players “of colour” lost valiantly and closely to one of the greatest — if not the greatest — cricket teams of all time. There is absolutely no shame in that; for the first time in five Test matches against the Australians this summer, South Africa had competed.
Sport’s axiomatic and most compelling characteristic is its profound capacity for metaphor. That it captures the confusions and contradictions of life, and mirrors with wonderfully escapist embellishment the tragedies and triumphs of the human condition, is what makes sport so important.
And it is in this dual context — that of the selection and success of a more representative Protea team set against the backdrop of South Africa’s own quest for social transformation — that President Thabo Mbeki’s comments the previous week command some further attention.
Speaking at the Presidential Sports Awards on March 8, Mbeki was quoted as saying that: “For two to three years, let’s not mind losing international competitions because we are bringing our people into those teams.”
What is to be made of this intriguing comment? Does he really mean to say that bringing black players into South Africa’s teams will necessarily weaken them? Surely not ? and certainly not on the evidence of the Newlands Test match. Can it really be that the inferiority complex driven so malevolently by white rulers through the psyche of black people for so many centuries thrives still in the subconscious of a leader so obviously determined to prove otherwise?
But how else could a young black player interpret the comment? I am going to play for a team that is in “transformation”. My president tells the nation that we must not “mind” losing now that I am in the team. What, I wonder, would Messrs Ntini and Adams make of this?
And if sport is such a metaphor, as I am sure it is, what does it say to black appointees in the government or in the private sector? That a sub-standard service will result, if only for two to three years? In any case, I do not think that presidents should talk about failure — certainly not publicly. It does not accord with typical good political practice. But then again, Mbeki is not a typical president, as we know only too well. It does little for national morale and even less for the spirit of nation-building that his state of the nation speech in February suggested he wants to encourage.
I suspect I am being unfair to Mbeki. If you read the full speech on the government website two things are notable. First of all, the specific comment is not there. Clearly it was made off the cuff as, liberated from the advice of speech writers and spin doctors alike, and intoxicated by the moment, so many of the most interesting things politicians say are.
Second, Mbeki makes out a coherent case. “We are calling for renewed efforts to improve our playing fields, to train those less privileged than ourselves …” Properly resourced, sport can play an important role in moral and physical regeneration and in social transformation more generally, he argued.
Moreover, Mbeki wondered aloud: “I often think about how much more successful we can be as a nation in the international sporting arenas if we were able to draw our athletes from 100% of our population, rather than just 20 or 30%.”
Such a simple proposition — and such a powerful message that extends far beyond sport. If only. If only the country had the human resources — which is what those in government really mean when they talk about “lack of capacity” — and if only they had not been so ravaged by apartheid. For all the defects of the stolen dream of Soviet socialism, at least children behind the Iron Curtain got a decent education.
So what Mbeki is calling for is a recognition that transformation must happen in sport as with other sectors — and perhaps because of its emblematic quality, especially in sport — even if the cost is less success in the short term.
It is at this point in the debate that the racists are sorted from the transformers. The selection of Justin Ontong for the final Test in Sydney at the new year provided a perfect if ugly illustration. Here was a talented young player being given an opportunity in a “dead” Test (Australia were 2-0 up), in line with the very carefully crafted United Cricket Board transformation process.
But neither the team’s management — its coach or captain, in contrast to the open-minded intelligence of the Australian captain Steve Waugh and his management — nor the bulk of the South African media were mature or sophisticated enough to respond sensibly.
As a new, unpublished study of the media’s response commissioned by the cricket board’s transformation monitoring committee chaired by André Odendaal concludes: “the reporting of controversies in Australia surfaced underlying anxieties (even hysteria) about change, as well as a disconcerting level of shallowness in understanding and analysis on the part of the cricket ‘old guard’ and the mainstream SA cricket media”.
In turn, the fickle hyperbole of the public’s reaction to both sport and politics is fanned unhelpfully. And so, as with government, cricket’s new order is let down by poor communication — their own lack of strategic approach to communicating their message and the obstacles created by the inexpertise of the media middlemen.
Yet, whether the old white buffoons of South African cricket like it or not, change is well on the way. Power has shifted: seven of the 11 provincial presidents are black. Fifty-nine of the 170 players representing the 11 provincial cricket teams are black. And last month a South African team containing eight black players reached the final of the under-19 cricket World Cup. Cricket, at least, is transforming strongly, Mr Mbeki. And for a glorious hour last Saturday, the evidence was there for all those who were willing to see it to do so and to revel in the moment.
Archive: Previous columns by Richard Calland