Race divisions cloud SA rugby

Members of the Young Ideas rugby team warm up before a club match in Langa, Cape Town's oldest black township, August 29, 2015. Twenty years after former President Nelson Mandela wore a Springbok jersey to promote racial reconciliation, many South Africans are unconvinced the 2015 Rugby World Cup squad has changed enough to dispel criticism it remains a bastion of white privilege. Picture taken August 29, 2015. REUTERS/Mike Hutchings

Members of the Young Ideas rugby team warm up before a club match in Langa, Cape Town's oldest black township, August 29, 2015. Twenty years after former President Nelson Mandela wore a Springbok jersey to promote racial reconciliation, many South Africans are unconvinced the 2015 Rugby World Cup squad has changed enough to dispel criticism it remains a bastion of white privilege. Picture taken August 29, 2015. REUTERS/Mike Hutchings

Published Sep 2, 2015

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It is the national bugbear. Transformation is a word that has plagued South Africa for two decades – setting aright the inequalities that are inherent as a result of half a century of law-enforced segregation.

It was a system of conditioning, ubiquitous in its message: one race group was inherently superior to all others and therefore rightly protected by a system of laws to entrench privilege.

We’re 21 years into democracy, and the privilege still exists; thought to be fiercely guarded by a clandestine group desperately clinging to some form of power. Nowhere is it more apparent than in rugby.

The transformation debate is one that polarises society. The concern, from my perspective anyway, is the balance between redressing past inequalities and maintaining performance prowess.

Some feel selecting a team on anything other than merit would negatively impact on the performance of the national team. I don’t disagree with that sentiment, but not for the same reason others do. Many in this particular camp hold paragon this “truth”: black people don’t play rugby.

In 2012, as part of a special assignment investigating the lack of transformation in rugby, I travelled to the Eastern Cape. There, I found rugby clubs – black rugby clubs – that outdate the majority of white rugby clubs in the country; black rugby clubs that predate apartheid.

I found a former Model C school, Dale College, in King William’s Town, that fielded an all-black starting XV. This all-black starting XV had won every single match, except for the last against Queens College – a dismal drubbing during which Dale scored no points whatsoever. It was a match dominated by the brilliance of 17-year-old Queens flyhalf, Joshua Stander.

But prior to that match, Dale had gone unbeaten for 21 games. Tell me again black people don’t play rugby.

On my travels, I spoke extensively with EP Kings boss Cheeky Watson who told me that no matter how well his son, former Springbok flanker Luke Watson, played, if it came between Luke and a black flanker, “Luke would have to perform at 110 percent just for me to consider picking him”. That, Cheeky said, was how deep his own commitment to transformation ran.

I spoke to a Dale old-boy, celebrated sports journalist Simnikiwe Xabanisa, whom I had flown in to meet at his alma mater for an interview. He was among the first black children to attend the school when it opened its doors to pupils of colour back in the ’90s.

He told me of the hardships he and other Xhosa boys from the area endured, how they had their own Waterkloof Four scandal, how deep the racism ran. It made him immensely proud that Dale appeared to have transcended that.

I asked him whether Dale could be seen as a microcosm for what could happen at national level. He told me that could imply that there was some magical recipe to make transformation work. There isn’t.

A parent of one Dale’s promising centres told me the reason the team was made up entirely of black players was because the white children didn’t want to play rugby with the black children. This sentiment was dismissed by every high school pupil I spoke to.

Dale’s first team coach, Grant Griffiths, responded to a question I posed regarding his selection of only non-white players. For him, the answer was simple. The demographics of King William’s Town meant that there was no need for quota politics. Because there were more black people living in the area and attending the school, there would naturally be a bigger pool of black talent from which to pick. He had a white lock on the bench, he said, because he was the second-best No 4 the school had.

But perhaps the most poignant experience of all was my discussion with Zola Yeye, former Springbok team manager, in Port Elizabeth.

We spoke for hours on the issue of transformation. He told me this story:

“Take a boy attending Rondebosch Boys High, a school with a rich rugby history, a strong old-boys network, top class coaching and medical staff, a nutritionist, and the best facilities and equipment a school could hope for.

“Let’s say for example, this boy is white. His dad was a Bosch boy, as was his father before him. Now, take a black child, attending the school on a rugby scholarship; a good pupil academically and a promising prospect on the rugby field.

“During the week, the boys have training. One of the boys gets home and only has to do homework. His laundry is done for him. He knows his parents will be home by dinner time.

“The other boy has to travel further to get home, do his homework, his own laundry, and maybe even has to make his own dinner. In this scenario, this boy may not see either of his parents until long after the sun has gone down.

“What if the boys have a first team match during the week? Only one of these boys has the support of at least one parent who is able to watch all his games, supporting him in presence, bringing snacks and drinks, and helping to cart him and his teammates to and from games.”

Familial support is crucial to success, Yeye said. Only one of those boys was destined to succeed and make a career out of rugby.

In South Africa, this scenario holds true for many. Black people don’t not play rugby – the system has just been geared in such a way that they don’t get the opportunity to make a life out of the sport.

That’s a problem at a much higher level. Where parents of this generation still feel that “white kids don’t want to play rugby with black kids” and parental support is not present for the majority of those black children, transformation is destined to fail.

The concept of transformation is not a matter of installing quotas, pumping money into school rugby development, and setting it up so that black parents can attend their children’s rugby matches. Transformation is a mindset, not a checklist – do these things, et voila, you’re transformed.

It is something that should be worked at, nurtured, debated, fought over and, at the very least, spoken about.

For that reason, it is important to engage at whatever level possible on transformation. The Cape Argus will be covering Our Boks 2015 – a series of serious rugby dialogues about transformation in rugby.

Today’s panel discussion features former Bok mentor Peter de Villiers, former Bok hooker Dale Santon, and Max Fudzani, a special adviser to Sports and Recreation Minister Fikile Mbalula. The discussion will be mediated by Judge Siraj Desai.

The first of the series takes place at Trafalgar High School from 5pm.

*Get involved. Have your say. The only way to start tackling transformation is to start talking about it.

Join the conversation on Twitter and Facebook with #OurBoks2015 - Cape Argus

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