‘THIS ISN’T A GAME, IT’S A GAME-CHANGER’
Minister riled by lack of commitment to change after 22 years of democracy
“FOR me, the sky is the limit,” says Sports Minister Fikile Mbalula, when asked about his long-term ambitions. “If one day I become the president, it will not be by fluke. I will have worked hard to get there. But for now, everything that comes my way, I give it my best shot.” No arguing that. Mbalula has an insane work rate, even if much of his output takes the form of tweets and flowery orations. If all the words emitted by Mbalula in his lifetime were laid end to end, they’d reach all the way to Mars.
For many whites, Mbalula seems to speak Martian.
This week, he invaded their planets by moving to radically accelerate transformation in sport — threatening to withhold support for the hosting of global tournaments if agreed selection targets for black representation are not quickly met.
A rigorous independent report on transformation progress, commissioned by Mbalula’s department, shows that the vast majority of black children are still denied the chance to be coached in several major sports, notably rugby and cricket. Hence national teams are still dominated by white athletes who got those chances. After 22 years of democracy, this is insane. But there is furious discord about why it is the case, and about how to fix it.
Mbalula will tell you — in many words — that the missing element is commitment on the part of federations and selectors. His opponents retort that forcing transformation at the elite level destroys meritocracy, and that the economic divides that distort youth participation cannot be bridged by sports bosses. Both sides rage about token selections. Jacques Kallis tweeted that the minister’s intervention has made him embarrassed to be South African.
“How can a man who was almost captain of the national side say that?” says Mbalula. “It means he was fake the whole time when we looked at him as a hero. He always looked at things differently.
“I meet white players all the time, who tell me, minister, we want to help you get the sport into the townships. I speak to Gary Kirsten, he does a lot of work in Gugulethu, teaching kids out of his pocket.”
We are at the Westcliff Hotel, and Mbalula is rocking a zany checked suit. He seems a little wearied, but not too wearied to fulminate.
Why does he think his detractors are so angry? “It’s a question of South Africans’ ignorance,” he says. “And taking sport for granted.” The federations had plenty of time, he says, to act in pursuit of the targets they agreed on at the Sports Indaba.
“We don’t live in an era of abundant resources. But we are more advantaged than a lot of developing countries. The question in our approach to developing African black rugby players is skewed in that it’s mainly focused on Model C and private schools. And it doesn’t expand beyond that.
“The scapegoat is that there are no facilities. But go to Soweto and tell me there are no fields.
“The selection policy must not pass up a player just because he’s white. The very fact we’re talking about targets is unfair. Because I believe we have so many blacks and Africans who are doing well and have never been given an opportunity. What we need to do is dig deep into our reserves and expand. And I’m saying to white South Africans: do not fear diversity or transformation. It’s about equity, but it’s not about balancing numbers. You will see that in time, the question of targets will fade away naturally. We will see no colour.
“There is an artificial articulation to say merit is outside transformation. The players in the Currie Cup and Super 15 are equally capable of playing for the Springboks, and these are players of colour.” That last claim is dubious. If a player performs well at the second-highest level, it doesn’t follow that he is automatically qualified for the pinnacle. Certain white coaches (stand up, Heyneke Meyer) have made that assumption about limited white players, with woeful results, and it’s no more accurate in the case of a black contender.
Selections are usually informed by a mix of data and intuition. Adding transformation often unlocks a spectacular rise, such as those of Kagiso Rabada, Beast Mtawarira, Hashim Amla and Bryan Habana. Less often, it can prompt a premature or unjustified selection.
That will happen more often if Mbalula’s new vision is implemented. To deny that is folly. But it does not follow that the vision is doomed or unjust, because radical and necessary change is never perfect or frictionless. And if rugby bosses had been left to their own devices, they’d still be picking Chester Williams and 14 white guys in every Bok lineup.
Mbalula’s ability to mix good sense and pure nonsense makes him well-suited to the inane world of sport. “Sport is a topic everybody can relate to, everybody can become an expert on. When you have run out of ideas with your girlfriend, the only thing you can talk about is how useless is the national team.”
His job is fun, he says. “I love that I’m not under pressure, where I manage big deals, where people are knocking on my window, saying they want this tender, or they want nuclear or whatever. I’m not in that space. I deal with human beings. I quarrel with them.” Yep. He does.
“Julius [Malema] said to me one time, ‘Ai! President Zuma has undermined you by giving you the sports ministry’. I said Julius, he’s not undermining me. I’ve never been a sports minister in my life. I’ve never been a minister. I’ve never been a parliamentarian. President Zuma made me a deputy police minister for the first time.
“Other people are still sweating in the back benches. Probably they will die there. But I’ve never been a backbencher. I’m so privileged.”
You will see that in time, the question of targets will fade away naturally. We will see no colour