Avon Barksdale, a fictional character in The Wire, an American television series, often uses tautological phrases like “the game is the game” to signify the fact that change within societal institutions is not brought about by sudden, random forces.
The tautology simultaneously serves as a reminder to all the players in “the game” that individual players do not have the power to change institutions or “the game”, as it were. In fact, individuals who attempt to change “the game” in The Wire find themselves out of “the game” – they either die or they lose their jobs.
I use this insight to argue that the quota system that the SA Rugby Union (Saru) plans to introduce next year to transform South African rugby will not fundamentally change South African rugby, the view that rugby in South Africa is a “white man’s game”.
Traditionally, white men in this country have used rugby as a cultural tool to construct a white masculinity that was always consistent with the apartheid value system.
In many ways post-apartheid South African rugby views itself as upholding Afrikaner ethos and values. Any efforts to change South African rugby have to contend with this history.
Former Springbok coach Peter de Villiers knows this very well. Commenting on the Saru plans, De Villiers is quoted as saying that the quota system will never work.
He argues that transformation in South African rugby will come about when “there is a transformation, period, in people’s hearts”. As the first black Springbok coach, De Villiers has first-hand experience.
Some of what he is hinting at is discussed at length in an MA thesis written by Chris Kriel, a postgraduate student at Wits University.
One of Kriel’s findings was that the discussion on transformation in rugby is premised on the belief that the South African game exists because of whites and that without white people South African rugby teams would necessarily deteriorate, as would the attendance at rugby matches.
It is unrealistic to expect individual actors to change this history. In countries like New Zealand, where rugby has gone from being dominated by white players to being a predominantly Pacific Island sport, the change came about through the radical transformation of the style of play. New Zealand commentators are of the view that rugby players of Maori and Pacific Island heritage play a style of rugby that is suited to 21st-century rugby.
According to The New Zealand Herald, such rugby requires players who are bigger, stronger and more explosive. The paper further argues that Polynesian players like Jonah Lomu, Tana Umaga, Joe Rokocoko, Ma’a Nonu, Jerry Collins, Jerome Kaino, Sonny Bill Williams and Julian Savea thrive on this style of play.
New Zealand academics say the fact that the “very bastion of New Zealandness”, the All Blacks, is dominated by Polynesian players has left mainstream commentators wringing their hands. Some commentators even publicly ask: “Where have all the white players gone?” The consensus among white mainstream New Zealand commentators is that rugby is experiencing “white flight”. These debates reveal a white society trying to come to grips with the cognitive dissonance brought about by the displacement of white masculinity in the social hierarchy.
In the past, such debate led to the global search for a “great white hope”. And, globally, the face of rugby is still largely white. In South Africa, rugby is not only dominated by white males; school-level black rugby players have to endure racist taunts on the field.
Reportedly, black rugby players from Hoërskool Ben Vorster are called “dogs” and “k*****s” when they run on to the field at some of their matches.
In June, an under-16 match was abandoned after players from Wynberg Boys’ High walked off the field in protest at abuse hurled at them by white players from Paarl Gimnasium.
Post-apartheid efforts to keep South African rugby white vary along a continuum that spans racist abuse and well-orchestrated resistance to any serious proposals to transform the game.
White masculinity uses rugby in post-apartheid South Africa as a social tool to rehabilitate what Wits academic Melissa Steyn calls “a whiteness disgraced”.
From this perspective white rugby players are presented as inherently superior to black players.
This is not to say that there are no black rugby players who have been accepted into the post-apartheid white rugby establishment. Two players come to mind here, Bryan Habana and Tendai “Beast” Mtawarira.
The former is widely accepted as being an exceptionally talented player. Although Mtawarira is liked by rugby fans, his nickname is problematic. Traditionally, mainstream society has always associated black masculinity with beasts and other violent wild creatures. The one black African rugby player who has managed to establish himself in professional rugby, a violent sport, which has always been associated with white masculinity in South Africa, is affectionately called the “beast” by fans. Perhaps, I’m reading too much into this nickname business.
I am, however, certain that it is going to take more than an introduction of the quota system in local rugby to truly change post-apartheid South African rugby.
The whole rugby narrative has to change. The history of coloured rugby players in the Western Cape and black Africans in the Eastern Cape has to be part of the dominant rugby narrative.
Moreover, the sport has to be made accessible to everyone. This means there should be well-funded rugby programmes to develop and nurture black rugby talent in the townships.
That is what brings about fundamental change in any sport.
* Majavu is the Book Reviews Editor of Interface: A Journal For and About Social Movements. He is a PhD candidate at the University of Auckland, New Zealand. This article was first published on the South African Civil Society Information Service website at www.sacsis.org.za