Cricket, lovely cricket
A society for the abolition of all inter- national sport would have a strong case to argue. There is precious little evidence, at least in recent years, that sporting events between teams from different nations have led to an increase in inter- national understanding or goodwill. There is ample evidence that such events have been the occasion for outbreaks of drunk- enness, rioting and various forms of viol- ence (sometimes, as in Latin America, even leading to death). However, no such society at present exists. And meanwhile we have to make up our minds about the sixteen or so white South African cricket- ers who are due to arrive in England exactly a month from now. Admittedly, left to ourselves, we mould have con- sidered this to be a matter of so little consequence as to be scarcely worthy of comment; but now that we have had public statements from every aspiring leader of the people from the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Prime Minister downwards, this journal cannot decently stand aside. What we can do however, is discuss the issue in a way that is so un- fashionable as to be almost unheard of: that is, in the light of reason.
The opposition to the tour is split, broadly, into two groups. There is, first, the 'stop the seventy tour' movement itself. Its present plan (according to its leader. Mr Peter Hain, speaking on tele- vision this week) is not to commit acts of `violence', but instead to carry out a mass sit-down on the pitches and thus physic- ally prevent any matches from being played. Since the police, in turn, will be attempting—by equally physical means —to prevent the Hain gang from carrying out its plan, the chances of violence in fact being avoided would seem remote. But even if there were no violence, occu- pation of the pitch itself (or any other similar stratagem) would remain a crim- inal offence—on more than one count, as our legal correspondent explains in de- tail on page 579. And no doubt the police will see to it that the law takes its course.
The Government's silence on this is curious, to say the least. If it feels that the relevant Acts of Parliament are an undesirable relic of a less enlightened age, there is nothing to prevent it from intro- ducing a Bill to amend or repeal them. Since it has not done this, and time presses, it surely has a clear duty—not least to the protesters themselves—to issue a public warning that the declared tactics of the HaM gang are illegal and that any- one employing them will render himself liable to criminal prosecution and impri- sonment. Yet it has not done this, either. On this fundamental issue—literally of law and order—it has remained silent.
The second type of opposition to the tour comes from those, like the Bishop of Woolwich (the good cricketer, not the bad theologian), who believe with equal sincerity that the tour should be called off, but who, if it is not, intend to com- mit no illegal act but instead to confine themselves to peaceful and lawful pro- test. Against this there can be no com- plaint. Indeed, it may be salutary for the South Africans to see for themselves the detestation with which their government's racial laws are regarded by an important section of the population.
But why would it be better for them not to come at all? The assertion that to watch the South Africans play is to vote in favour of the most odious of their country's policies is such palpable non- sense that there is no point in discussing it (although, in passing, one would have thought that the hallmark of a free society was the freedom to vote for anything). Nor can it be wise to yield to blackmail— as, say, over the Commonwealth Games. There are. however, two serious argu- ments to be considered. The first is the claim that cancellation of the tour will cause the South African gov- ernment to mend its racial ways. In a post-election speech this week the South African Prime Minister, Mr Vorster. has made it clear that this is simply not on the cards. Indeed, how could it be? The white South Africans believe that their entire way of life, with all its material benefits. depends on the maintenance of the apparatus of apartheid. They are hardly going to jeopardise this for the pleasure of knowing that eleven of their compatriots may appear at Lord's every five years. Pressure of this kind could, it is true, perhaps bring about some cosmetic attention to the face of apartheid as it is seen by the outside world. But is it the reality of the opinession of one race by another to which the protesters object, or merely the appearance?
The second serious argument raised against the tour, and that commanding most respect, is that it will exacerbate race relations here in England. No doubt this danger has been much exaggerated, and certainly there is no logical connec- tion. But it is probably true that many of the neeroes in Britain (although few of the more numerous Asians) will be deeply upset by the Springbok visit. To them it must be pointed out that they are not being in any way harmed, and dial, in a free country, many people will be deeply upset by much that goes on; but that is the way of life of the society in which they have chosen to live. As it happens. anyway. the boot is on the other foot. To call off the tour now, in the face of threats of physical disruption and fears of violence, could only have the effect of encouraging the settlement of other dis- putes. in which strong feelings are aroused, by physical and violent means. And those who have most to lose from an outbreak of violence in Britain, from the creed that might equals right. are the ethnic minor- ity groups themselves—as the victims of skinhead 'Pakky-bashing know.
But, at bottom, the anti-Springbok movement is not based on reason at all. There are, it is true, those who, for poli- tical reasons, wish the hate-focus of the west to be capitalist rather than com- munist; these people's support of the Hain gang is rational enough. But they are a minority. The majority of the protesters (who are themselves, of course, a minor- ity of the population) feel that racial oppression is something unique; an evil so great that it must be fought in every arena, however futile, at whatever cost. The oppression of one race by another is certainly evil (and all-too-widely prac- tised, as it happens. outside South Africa, too). So, and in the case of Russia even more so. is the oppression of a people by its rulers of the same race. But there is no unique evil. Above all there is no war, however holy. in which the end automa- tically justifies the means, whatever those means may be; no struggle that exoner- ates us from the obligation to weigh up, in the light of reason, the likely gain against the probable loss.
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