How cricket explains the world

Wherever sport is played, politics will be there. I do not mean it as a cynical thought - as if the “purity” of the former were always polluted by the “dirtiness” of the latter - so much as a comment on one of the more fascinating realities of our social life.

Think of some of the links we could draw from past events: sport becomes a stage for political struggle - US sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos give the Black Panther salute at the ’68 Olympics; sport mirrors political transformation - newly elected President Nelson Mandela presents Francois Pinar, captain of the new South Africa, with the Rugby World Cup in 1995; sport reflects entrenched political conflict - Russia spills Hungarian blood in the famous water polo match of 1956, the same year Soviet tanks rolled into Budapest; sport creates political unity - victory for France in the 1998 Football World Cup became a reason to celebrate the nation’s cultural diversity.

So the next big sporting story may also say something about the political times in which it occurs. There is, of course, no bigger story in Australian sport than the racial, ethical and officiating controversies of the Indian cricket tour. Does it help us better understand the political world in which we live? Here are three ways it may do so.

First, the controversy tells us of changing power relations in the world. An historical comparison illustrates the point. The most intense “political” moment in Australian cricket was the Bodyline series of 1932-33 which created a diplomatic crisis between England and Australia. Seventy-five years later, Indian captain Anil Kumble invoked the “spirit” of Bodyline to criticise Australian sportsmanship during the 2008 Sydney Test. In a linguistic parallel too delicious to ignore, links were quickly made between old and new - welcome to the Bollyline crisis.

Yet in most respects Bodyline and Bollyline are worlds apart, as different as the colonial world of the 1930s to the postcolonial world of today. While cricket is a game of empire - where we can still barrack for the colonially constructed “West Indies” and whose legacy is (unlike many aspects of imperial rule) universally celebrated - the balance of power in the modern game is a direct reflection of power shifts in a globalised world.

Bodyline reflected a conventional colonial antagonism between a political master and its feisty subject. At a time when Australian foreign policy was still conducted via the British home office, the sporting arena was one place to assert a sort of symbolic independence.

Today, political power has been transformed: Great Britain is a declining power and Australia - in most respects a functional republic - faces the challenge of new partnerships. India and China, emerging superpowers of the 21st century, are central relationships to nurture in this regard. And as in politics, so also in cricket.

While the colonial power of an Ashes win will never die, the future of Australian cricket lies in the riches and opportunities of a postcolonial world where India generates up to 70 per cent of cricket revenue and where the South Asian diaspora hold the key to an expanding international game. Bollyline follows the contours of a new political reality as well as a sporting one.

Second, the controversy illustrates what some international relations theorists call the “complex interdependence” of a globalised world. In other words, sport is part of an interconnected web of political, economic and cultural interests.

What Brad Hogg may have said to Sourav Ganguly in Sydney will affect music sales for Brett Lee in Mumbai. What Harbhajan Singh may have said to Andrew Symonds out in the middle will affect revenue for junior cricket clinics out in the suburbs. As an example, the present controversy shows how the interconnections of globalisation have threatened local vestiges of media power.

Kerry Packer’s revolution in the late 1970s gave Channel Nine almost total media power over audiences watching Australian cricket, and this at a time of Nine’s general cultural dominance. The Packer revolution, in turn, changed the way audiences appreciated international cricket. Aspects of the modern game that we now take for granted - colour uniforms and white balls, Tri-series one-day contests, world cups in all forms of the game, faster run rates in Tests, Twenty-20 - all owe a significant debt to the original World Series Cricket and the changes it brought.

Yet today, with its overall ratings in decline, foreign ownership bringing structural change, and the onslaught of pay-TV and digital media, Nine seems to be fighting for its life. Nine needs the certainty of cricket more than ever before. While the power of media over cricket audiences is no less significant, it is now much more contested. The media debate on the controversies surrounding the present Indian tour is diverse. Media interests now have as much stake in Indian cricket as they once did in the Australian game. To the anxiety of some and the relief of others, domestic control factors have given way to a competitive and interdependent global reality.

Third, while it is tempting to think that globalisation means a world without borders, the Australia-India cricket controversy tells us that national identity still remains very important.

Franklin Foer’s fascinating book How Soccer Explains the World (2004) shows how the politics of local, national and cultural identity are borne out on the fields of the world’s most popular sport. Foer’s study emphasises conflict, showing how The World Game functions as an outlet for separatist politics. But it also seeds the idea that nationalism comes in all forms, from the violent to the harmonious, and that sport is a way of understanding the politics of identity and the choices it carries.

Nationalism and foreign policy are changing in Australia. The Howard years were marked by what we might call “conflict nationalism”. We played hard on regional security and illegal immigration. We played in defiance of international sentiment on Iraq and Kyoto. We played strictly by the rules of national security. By contrast, the Rudd Government seems to subscribe to a different game plan, better described as “co-operative nationalism”, where international rules change the way we play and where collective efforts are made to improve the quality of the game.

There is no doubt that Australian cricket has dominated the international scene for many years now. The ferocious nationalism at the foundations of the game partly explain why. As Mike Coward reminded us in The Australian (January 8, 2008) the venerated baggy-green cap worn by Test players has a pre-Federation coat of arms, and thus comes with the same revolutionary identity as the flag of the Southern Cross.

In the context of the present series, it has been said that Australia plays with too much nationalism and India not enough. One team will seemingly sacrifice everything to win, another will collapse under the pressure of a fanatical opponent.

The current Australian team are certainly “conflict nationalists”. Like the foreign policy of the Howard years, this philosophy seems to have self-served Australian cricket well. The price of “conflict nationalism”, however, is that one’s success is achieved at the expense of other actors and even of the system as a whole.

In the same way, it is telling that in the face of racism allegedly committed against an Australian player, there is little sympathy for the Australian cause in the international cricket community. “Conflict nationalism” naturally leads to isolation. Our win at all costs approach has clearly left us with many riches but very few friends.

Yet there are other nationalisms, other ways to play with pride for one’s country whether in politics or sport. “Co-operative nationalism”, though no less interested in victory, believes that the more winners there are the better it will be for all actors in the long run. It seems that the world of cricket is pressing for something beyond a winner-take-all approach to resolving the present crisis.

Ricky Ponting and his team may have thrived as conflict nationalists in the past, but it seems the game has been damaged as a result. Nationalism remains important, but there are choices to be made about what kind of nationalism to pursue.

Of course - to adapt a phrase employed by Mr Howard before last year’s Federal election - there is a chance that if you change the team culture you will also change the results. Perhaps in cricket, as in politics, that is indeed what many people would like to see.