Courting Controversies: The Political Conundrum in Sports

The scene’s been replayed so many times over in the past. Wars and terror crimes have infiltrated the domain of sports, reducing it to a mockery of what it emphasises and broadcasts. Be it in the 1930s, where the Olympic Games were mired under the light of so-called racial superiority or during the 1970s, when a group of sportsmen were brutally killed by a terror outfit on account of their nationality; sports has unwittingly become the primary subject of dissent, not only before or during war-times but sometimes, even in the wake of warfare. Like the situation unfolding before the Indian cricket authorities, with respect to IPL matches and the Sri Lankan players. 

For those who were brought up during the 90s, the conflict between Sri Lankans and the Tamil rebels is a subject that brings forward many harsh memories. At its peak then, the strife was a source of great concern for not just the countries in the sub-continent but also for major peacekeeping and peace-brokering organisations like the United Nations. This is perhaps the reason why the recent uncovering about the torture faced by captured Tamilian rebels has led to an outpouring of wrath on the Lankan governmental authorities. 

Not that we Indians, or more specifically, the Tamilians aren’t justified to protest out loud. In terms of humanitarian violations, those acts were beyond contempt; heinous to the point of abject humanistic apathy. But does that mean that political parties here in India, use these facts as an agenda to prevent sportsmen to take part in an international level tournament? Just as some of these parties tried to prevent an ICC umpire from Sri Lanka, from officiating at the Indo-Australian test match held at Chennai. 

As far as siding with right and wrong goes, the entire nation may be against the Sri Lankan authorities for their grave inconsideration. And as regards taking a stance against their inhuman atrocities, the whole nation could take the issue up where it needs to be addressed, before those elected to see to it that these crimes don’t go unpunished. Even if honesty makes us admit – at least to ourselves – that these international bodies may not bring the perpetrators of these crimes to tangible accountability, does blocking the country’s cricketers from playing at select venues going to bring justice to the real orchestrators of these activities? Again, innate honesty compels to add – not really, it won’t. So why talk about unnecessary bans and player censors, when all they do is make these manifestos seem like a poorly executed, melodramatic ploy for attention rather than an actual show of solidarity for the long-gone victims. 

In a ludicrous twist to this tale of questions being raised, the hypocrisy of some of the civil administrators also emerges. Where calls to prohibit Sri Lankan players from taking part in matches being conducted at Chennai are emerging, it seems to be conveniently forgotten that a certain franchise is being captained by a Sri Lankan player. Does that mean that the player can captain the squad but his countrymen can’t play in Chennai, because it’s the home ground for Tamilians? The logic and the rationale behind arriving at this logic, all appear to be doused in giving highly qualitative lip service. If protesting against wrongs were so important, then shouldn’t such protesting marauders also consider several other instances where other Indian communities have undergone the strain and pain of human rights violations? Like, banning the Australian players because of supposed racist attacks on Indians living in Australia, or banning the English players because of Britain’s ill-treatment to Indians at the height of its colonisation. 

Prioritising cricket over feelings of intense dislike isn’t about defending wrong over right. Just like the decision to prohibit a country’s sportsmen from entering a cricket stadium as if it were a desecration, won’t right the past wrong. Especially when the other side of the coin, reflects the fact that the violated parties themselves weren’t as white or pure as the driven snow.