War minus the shooting?
March 2nd 2010 01:02
Australia, India, security: they’re three words that have been mentioned in the same sentence a lot recently.
If Indian students aren’t being attacked on the streets of Melbourne, Australian athletes are wondering aloud if they ought to compete in India. One could also mention Tennis Australia’s decision to forfeit a Davis Cup tie in Chennai last year, and even the ongoing debate about whether or not it’s safe for Australia to sell uranium to India.
At the moment, the Kookaburras find themselves in New Delhi, having overcome their fears about participating in the Hockey World Cup. Concurrently, Australia’s elite cricketers are weighing up the pros and cons of playing in the upcoming Indian Premier League, in light of threats from the 313 Brigade. As for several hundred other elite athletes, they have a stressful few months ahead of them, because if Delhi actually gets around to building some venues, that’s where the 19th Commonwealth Games will be held.
So should the Australian Cricketers’ Association give its blessing to the IPL, which is scheduled for March 12 to April 25? And should the Australian Commonwealth Games Association do likewise for the Games, which will run from October 3-14?
In answering those questions, two important points need to be made. Firstly, sport and politics should be kept separate. If last year’s attack in Lahore on the Sri Lankan cricket team demonstrated anything, it is that one cannot allow independent security assessments to be airily dismissed by self-interested parties. Australia’s cricketers would remember facing a similar dilemma in 2008, when they ultimately agreed, on the basis of such advice, not to travel to Pakistan for the Champions Trophy. The Pakistanis reacted angrily, unsubtly suggesting that Ricky Ponting’s men were a bunch of racist cowards, while blithely assuring the world that their security plans were perfect, and that in any case terrorists would never target athletes. Sadly, the Sri Lankans soon learned the hard way that this was vainglorious nonsense.
But that leads on to the second point: if there’s one thing that can be guaranteed, it’s that sport and politics will not be kept separate. The Subcontinental nations are sensitive about race at the best of times, and with the violence emanating out of Melbourne and the politicking over the uranium issue, these are hardly the best of times. Many Indians – even those who abhor the threats made by Bal Thackeray and Shiv Sena – will now be looking suspiciously at Australia, and be unwilling to give it the benefit of the doubt. Certainly, IPL Chairman Lalit Modi has taken news of a possible spurning of his competition badly, questioning Ponting’s integrity, threatening dissenters with omission from future tournaments and, in a familiar routine, insisting on the effectiveness of security plans.
Decisions about security must always be made calmly and rationally, but with so much emotion invested in the issue, that is easier said than done. On the one hand, the ACA would be appalled by the thought of terrorists dictating when and where matches can be played, not to mention anxious about keeping the ever more powerful Indians on side. Yet on the other, they would be cognisant of the duty of care they have to their members, while mindful of the legal implications that could result from placing them in harm’s way.
The solution, it seems, is the same as that advocated by Sport: The Australian Disease over the Champions Trophy: to clearly explain the risks and to advise (if necessary) withdrawal, “while leaving the door open to any player who may wish to take part. If [the ACA] advises its players to stay away from [India], it would seem to be ethically and legally absolved of responsibility should any of them ignore the advice and subsequently get hurt.”
And one should not be surprised if exactly that happens. Over the last decade and a half, Australian cricket has exhibited wariness of the Subcontinent, opting out of an important World Cup fixture in Sri Lanka in 1996 as well as several post-September 11 tours of Pakistan. Reports suggest that the ACA is leaning that way again. But this time, the situation would be different, as it would be offering security assessments not to a united group of national representatives, but to a collection of individuals spread across a collection of foreign franchises, some of whom are internationals, some of whom have never been internationals, and some of whom have retired from the international game. Consequently, the urge to solidarity would not be the same, which means that some players may opt to collect their hefty paycheques and damn the risks. But whatever ends up happening, ultimately the IPL is a relatively minor affair, given that it is essentially a commercial transaction between a collection of local individuals and foreign businesses.
The Commonwealth Games, though, is a far more sensitive matter, concerning as it does nation-states. This is not about Ricky Ponting and Lalit Modi; it is about Australia and India, the same two countries that have had some testy discussions of late over Melbourne and uranium. For the ACGA to even consider withdrawing its squad would constitute a serious diplomatic affront to the hosts. The Australian government would be praying that the security situation doesn’t deteriorate, because it would be loathe to have to endorse the shunning of a country that has increasing political clout and with which it has growing economic ties.
Nevertheless, it is incumbent on the ACGA to present its security advice clearly and soberly, before making it clear to all potential participants that they are free to make whatever decision they wish. Without the lure of prize money, and with the understanding that many of them have Olympic and world championship competitions to look forward to, the Commonwealth athletes might be more inclined to staying at home than their cricketing cousins. While that would be disappointing, they should be allowed to make up their minds without being pressured by their association, their government or India’s. Sport and politics should be kept separate.
Although he was talking about something slightly different, George Orwell could have had Australia and India in mind when he famously declared sport to be “war minus the shooting”. Let us fervently hope that sport finds a way to triumph over politics and terrorism.
If Indian students aren’t being attacked on the streets of Melbourne, Australian athletes are wondering aloud if they ought to compete in India. One could also mention Tennis Australia’s decision to forfeit a Davis Cup tie in Chennai last year, and even the ongoing debate about whether or not it’s safe for Australia to sell uranium to India.
At the moment, the Kookaburras find themselves in New Delhi, having overcome their fears about participating in the Hockey World Cup. Concurrently, Australia’s elite cricketers are weighing up the pros and cons of playing in the upcoming Indian Premier League, in light of threats from the 313 Brigade. As for several hundred other elite athletes, they have a stressful few months ahead of them, because if Delhi actually gets around to building some venues, that’s where the 19th Commonwealth Games will be held.
So should the Australian Cricketers’ Association give its blessing to the IPL, which is scheduled for March 12 to April 25? And should the Australian Commonwealth Games Association do likewise for the Games, which will run from October 3-14?
In answering those questions, two important points need to be made. Firstly, sport and politics should be kept separate. If last year’s attack in Lahore on the Sri Lankan cricket team demonstrated anything, it is that one cannot allow independent security assessments to be airily dismissed by self-interested parties. Australia’s cricketers would remember facing a similar dilemma in 2008, when they ultimately agreed, on the basis of such advice, not to travel to Pakistan for the Champions Trophy. The Pakistanis reacted angrily, unsubtly suggesting that Ricky Ponting’s men were a bunch of racist cowards, while blithely assuring the world that their security plans were perfect, and that in any case terrorists would never target athletes. Sadly, the Sri Lankans soon learned the hard way that this was vainglorious nonsense.
But that leads on to the second point: if there’s one thing that can be guaranteed, it’s that sport and politics will not be kept separate. The Subcontinental nations are sensitive about race at the best of times, and with the violence emanating out of Melbourne and the politicking over the uranium issue, these are hardly the best of times. Many Indians – even those who abhor the threats made by Bal Thackeray and Shiv Sena – will now be looking suspiciously at Australia, and be unwilling to give it the benefit of the doubt. Certainly, IPL Chairman Lalit Modi has taken news of a possible spurning of his competition badly, questioning Ponting’s integrity, threatening dissenters with omission from future tournaments and, in a familiar routine, insisting on the effectiveness of security plans.
Decisions about security must always be made calmly and rationally, but with so much emotion invested in the issue, that is easier said than done. On the one hand, the ACA would be appalled by the thought of terrorists dictating when and where matches can be played, not to mention anxious about keeping the ever more powerful Indians on side. Yet on the other, they would be cognisant of the duty of care they have to their members, while mindful of the legal implications that could result from placing them in harm’s way.
The solution, it seems, is the same as that advocated by Sport: The Australian Disease over the Champions Trophy: to clearly explain the risks and to advise (if necessary) withdrawal, “while leaving the door open to any player who may wish to take part. If [the ACA] advises its players to stay away from [India], it would seem to be ethically and legally absolved of responsibility should any of them ignore the advice and subsequently get hurt.”
And one should not be surprised if exactly that happens. Over the last decade and a half, Australian cricket has exhibited wariness of the Subcontinent, opting out of an important World Cup fixture in Sri Lanka in 1996 as well as several post-September 11 tours of Pakistan. Reports suggest that the ACA is leaning that way again. But this time, the situation would be different, as it would be offering security assessments not to a united group of national representatives, but to a collection of individuals spread across a collection of foreign franchises, some of whom are internationals, some of whom have never been internationals, and some of whom have retired from the international game. Consequently, the urge to solidarity would not be the same, which means that some players may opt to collect their hefty paycheques and damn the risks. But whatever ends up happening, ultimately the IPL is a relatively minor affair, given that it is essentially a commercial transaction between a collection of local individuals and foreign businesses.
The Commonwealth Games, though, is a far more sensitive matter, concerning as it does nation-states. This is not about Ricky Ponting and Lalit Modi; it is about Australia and India, the same two countries that have had some testy discussions of late over Melbourne and uranium. For the ACGA to even consider withdrawing its squad would constitute a serious diplomatic affront to the hosts. The Australian government would be praying that the security situation doesn’t deteriorate, because it would be loathe to have to endorse the shunning of a country that has increasing political clout and with which it has growing economic ties.
Nevertheless, it is incumbent on the ACGA to present its security advice clearly and soberly, before making it clear to all potential participants that they are free to make whatever decision they wish. Without the lure of prize money, and with the understanding that many of them have Olympic and world championship competitions to look forward to, the Commonwealth athletes might be more inclined to staying at home than their cricketing cousins. While that would be disappointing, they should be allowed to make up their minds without being pressured by their association, their government or India’s. Sport and politics should be kept separate.
Although he was talking about something slightly different, George Orwell could have had Australia and India in mind when he famously declared sport to be “war minus the shooting”. Let us fervently hope that sport finds a way to triumph over politics and terrorism.
| 19 |
| Vote |

















Add Comments

Read More