Can sport and religion mix?

Religion is normally considered a private matter in New Zealand. We don’t expect politicians, celebrities or sports stars to make heartfelt public declarations of their beliefs as they do in the United States. If we have an unofficial national faith, it is a tolerant and pragmatic agnosticism. Except if the religion is Islam, when it is assumed we all need to know.

On one level, this is unsurprising. Islam has been framed as a threat by the West since the September 11 terror attacks. The prejudices of the current US administration have only increased fear and distrust on one side and a sense of victimisation on the other.

The story of Sonny Bill Williams is set within this climate of mutual suspicion. When the Herald on Sunday breathlessly reported in 2011 that Williams had converted to Islam two years earlier, it noted that he had requested halal food on tour and attended Friday prayers at a local mosque.

Would a player’s conversion to any other faith be scrutinised like this? Perhaps only if it affected an ability to perform on the field. There could have been Jedis, Druids or Scientologists in recent All Blacks squads and we would never know, nor expect to.

There is an irony, looking back at the coverage. The reporter wondered if Williams’ faith clashed with ‘‘the All Blacks’ philosophy for encouraging players to be free-thinking and self reliant’’. As the events of the past week have shown, the opposite has happened. Some have been concerned that Williams is too free-thinking and unwilling to subsume his individuality for the greater good.

During his first game for the Blues last weekend, Williams covered the BNZ logo on his jersey with tape. New Zealand Rugby explained it was a conscientious objection based on religion. His contract allows him to withdraw from advertising by finance companies, banks, alcohol companies, tobacco companies and gambling companies.

The BNZ had no issue with Williams’ position but Prime Minister Bill English did. His comments are an example of the strange double standard that still applies to Islam in many Western countries. A Catholic politician who says he is guided by his religious beliefs and conscience said, ‘‘It is hard to understand that one guy has to behave differently than the rest’’.

With that one sentence, we were thrown straight back to the New Zealand of the 1950s and 60s when rugby was one of the means of enforcing a narrow conformism. Rugby spoke in the language of patriotism and militarism, the team above the individual. No deviation was permitted. It was not until the disaster of the 1981 Springbok tour and the cultural soul-searching that followed, including Greg McGee’s play Foreskin’s Lament where the terror of being different was examined, that rugby’s orthodoxy began to crumble.

Recent scandals involving sex, drugs and alcohol have prompted another round of soul-searching. By comparison, the strong moral position taken by Williams, clearly based on personal faith, can only be considered a good news story for rugby. And no matter which side you are on, or whom you worship, Williams’ decision to replace the BNZ logo with Plunket was a public relations masterstroke.