Time for SA rugby to blow whistle on apartheid past
Sections of the fraternity continue to convey positions of dubious old order
THE often accepted dictum is that history is written from the perspective of the victor and not the vanquished. In South African history, this is not necessarily the case, and we find in today’s democratic dispensation that many areas of its inglorious past are still being trumpeted as the accepted majority historical narrative.
One such area is within the sporting context, especially in rugby, where the exclusionary history of South Africa’s past injustices are still today being held up as the true reflection of its total rugby history.
Springbok rugby, before 1992, just as with so many of the sporting codes in the country, was an exclusionary sport under apartheid and could never be regarded as having been fully representative of the country.
The pre-1992 Springboks were the sole preserve of the white community and did not represent the majority (blacks), who played their rugby under the SA Rugby Union (Saru), the then non-racial South African component and which was a Sacos (SA Council on Sport) affiliate. Rugby unification commenced after 1992. It would hence be factually correct to only recognise and put forward the Bok history after 1992 as the true rugby history of a unified modern-day democratic South Africa. All other international rugby representation before this should not be held up as part of the truly South African rugby history.
At a recent meeting between the Saru Sacos Legends (former non-racial players and administrators) and the current SA Rugby authorities, this factually incorrect history was pointed out and discussed.
The call was made on Saru to ensure that this incorrect rendition should be rectified in the public domain. The Saru position was in support of this, only recognition is afforded to the post-1992 Bok history.
In the entrance to the Saru offices in Plattekloof, only the post-1992 Boks are listed, which gives credence to their position in this regard. Despite Saru’s official stance and acceptance of this, it is disconcerting to note that some sections of the South African “mainstream” media, commentators and sections of the rugby fraternity continue to convey the official position as that of South African rugby’s dubious pre-1992 past.
The insistence by certain scribes and commentators flout the official Saru stance in continuously identifying the current Bok captains as numbers 58 and 59 (pre-1992) instead of numbers 8 and 9 (post-1992).
This can be construed as a deliberate and crude attempt to whitewash the Bok emblem of its apartheid past through a dubious agenda.
This situation has brought more pain on a still festering wound within the non-racial rugby fold which believes they were duped into making concessions to ensure South African rugby’s acceptance into the international arena. This, they further believe, did not lead to a reciprocal response from those who played their rugby under the apartheid regime.
For the “old order”, the transition to democracy has been seamless and their continuous reminiscing of the glorious era of Bok rugby under apartheid is still indicative of their jingoist attitude and feels like a dagger in the heart of the non-racial fraternity.
The trumpeting and constant refrain of the tainted pre-1992 Bok history gives credence to the belief that there was never any intention of really making a paradigm shift in thinking and of including those who were excluded on the basis of race.
This is further born out by the “old order” and its media contingent that still continuously exclaim that the current Springbok captains date before 1992 and not after 1992, a throwback to Springbok rugby’s dubious past.
Those who hail from the non-racial fold are now questioning the commitment they made to the unity process and feel that they were the only ones who made sacrifices under apartheid and again in the new democratic dispensation.
They accepted the call by former president Nelson Mandela, who in his infinite wisdom sought to bring the two factions together to unite rugby under one regulating authority. Many now realise that the haste in these unity talks was just used as the stamp of approval to allow South African rugby the opportunity to play in the international arena again.
A quarter-of-a-century later, very little has changed for the former non-racial rugby fraternity. In hindsight it is now realised that it would have been better to disband all rugby structures in 1992 and start afresh.
International tours to and from South Africa should have been put on ice for a number of years until such time as the playing fields were levelled.
The years of deliberate under-investment in disadvantaged communities, people and infrastructure by the former apartheid regime left scars that should first have been eradicated.
In the haste to gain creditability and to be accepted back into the international fold, many mistakes were made and too much credence given to the commitments and hollow promises of upliftment programmes.
The only thing that the disadvantaged communities was afforded was the detested and stigmatised quota system. This patronising act was a throwback to the apartheid mentality of paternalism, indicating that blacks did not really play rugby and had to be taught.
This notion was given further credence by a number of former white rugby players who uttered sentiments along similar lines despite archival proof and historical records which show that rugby was played by blacks from the 1800s.
It would thus not be a strange phenomenon if a rethink on the Bok emblem is mooted, as the current discourse does not bring into the equation its contentious history, which is alienating the majority of our population.