25 years on and rugby’s mired in apartheid

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 many areas of its inglorious past are being trumpeted as the accepted majority historical narrative.

One such area is within the sporting context, especially rugby, where the exclusionary history of South Africa’s past injustices are being held up as the true reflection of its rugby history.

Springbok rugby, before 1992, just as so many of the sporting codes, was an exclusionary sport and could never be regarded of having been representative of the population. The Springboks were the sole preserve of the white community and did not represent the majority population (blacks) that played its rugby under the South African Rugby Union (Saru), the then non-racial South African component and which was a South African Council on Sport (Sacos) affiliate.

Rugby unification commenced only after 1992. It would thus be correct to recognise only the Springbok history post1992 as the true rugby history of a unified modern-day, democratic South Africa. But what has happened is that Springbok history from the time of the first all-white team played the British Isles in 1891 is still being celebrated.

This matter was discussed at a meeting between the Saru Sacos Legends (former non-racial players and administrators) and the current South African rugby authorities

The call was made for Saru to ensure that the incorrect rendition should be rectified in the public domain. It supported that the only recognition would be post1992 Springbok history.

At the Saru offices’ entrance in Plattekloof, Cape Town, the post-1992 Springboks are the only ones listed which gives credence to its position.

Despite this, it is disconcerting to note that certain sections of the mainstream media, commentators and sections of the rugby fraternity continue to convey the official position as that of rugby’s dubious pre-1992 past. Certain scribes and commentators identify the current Springbok captains as numbers 58 and 59 (pre-1992) instead of numbers 8 and 9 (post-1992). This can be construed as a deliberate attempt to whitewash the Springbok emblem of its apartheid past of exclusionary and discriminatory practices through a dubious agenda.

This situation has brought more pain on a festering wound within the erstwhile non-racial rugby fold as they declare that they were duped in bending over backwards to make concessions in order to ensure South African rugby’s acceptance in the international arena. This, they believe, did not lead to a reciprocal response from those who played their rugby under apartheid. For the old order, the transition to democracy has been seamless and their reminiscing of the glorious era is 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 Springbok history gives credence to the belief that there was never any intention of making a paradigm shift in including those who were excluded on the basis of race.

This is further borne out by the old order and its media contingent that exclaim that the current Springbok captains date before 1992.

Those who hail from the non-racial fold are questioning the commitment they made to unity and feel they were the only ones who made sacrifices, under apartheid and again in the new democratic dispensation. They accepted the call by Nelson Mandela who sought to bring the two factions together in order to unite rugby under one regulating authority. Many realise that the haste in the unity talks was used as the stamp of approval to allow South Africa rugby the opportunity to play in the international arena again.

A quarter of a century later little has changed for the former non-racial rugby fraternity. In hindsight, it would have been better to disband all rugby structures in 1992 and restart afresh.

International tours to and from South Africa should have been put on ice until the playing fields were levelled.

The years of deliberate under investment in disadvantaged communities, people and infrastructure by the apartheid regime left scars and the effects thereof 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 disadvantaged communities were afforded was the detested and stigmatised quota system. This patronising act bestowed upon non-racial rugby players was a throwback to the apartheid mentality of paternalism, indicating that blacks did not play rugby and had to be taught.

The notion was given further credence by many former white rugby players who uttered sentiments along similar lines, despite archival proof and historical records which show that rugby was played by blacks since the 1800s. It would thus not be strange if a rethink of the Springbok emblem is mooted, for the discourse does not bring into the equation its contentious history and which is alienating most of our population.

The situation has brought more pain on a festering wound

Crombie is the media and liaison officer for the Saru Sacos Legends