There are many Indias and there are many types of Indians. There are Indians who never vote for change, but always fight for change. There are Indians who do not watch Bollywood, only to be fashionably and not ideologically alienated from the mainstream. Amongst such and many other types of Indians, there are those who loudly announce that they don’t have a clue to what other Indians find in Cricket. To be apolitical can be a short step from being disaffected… but such indifference to cricket shows an Indian’s disregard for many a national virtue, for instance how a sport unites the social classes of this nation.
But then, seriously, is it passion for cricket that helps all communities and regions let go of their individual interests and live together as one entity? History does hold some evidence that it does.
Under the colonial rule, the Caribbean islands, populated by slaves and indentured labour, held down by racism, came together to be known as the ‘West Indies’ and were unified only through cricket. Cricket not only gave expression to their ability to be counted as equals, it also brought these islands together to fight against all atrocities in a unified manner.
In a Sri Lanka torn apart by civil war, peace rarely surfaced, and that too only when the Sri Lankan cricket team was playing in an important fixture. This largely Sinhala team was heavily reliant on a Tamil, known as Muttiah Muralitharan. He became a symbol of what was possible in that war-raven country.
But in India, the ground realities and foundations are a totally different ball game. Compared to the gigantic social moulds which shape us – class, community, language, caste, race – cricket is trivial, to be generous. And history holds testament to the fact – cricket does not create solidarities; it only helps with a platform to exercise the existing tensions.
“Has Indian cricket been a good citizen? Yes, if you don’t look at it as an agent of virtuous patriotism.”
Ashis Nandy describes the origin of the game in India in his book, ‘The Tao of Cricket’ as, “It’s not an accident that cricket, not football, was shown as England’s national sport to Indians.” Cricket gave the white colonist a way to ascertain his racial exclusivity, through his all-white gymkhana. And in pre-independent India, cricket routinely reflected every passion and prejudice of those times. Originating in Bombay, cricket was taken up as the staple sport, first by the Parsis, then the higher caste Hindus, then by their rival community; Muslims, and the Christians (then known as the rest). Each of the factions had the same enemy, the Whites; who would poach their cricket grounds for the aristocrats’ polo sessions. Each faction found only itself worthy of competing against the British, and thus the communal tensions spread into the gentleman’s game. And these solidarities came to be officially known as the ‘Bombay Pentangular’ – a tournament where one community could show its superiority over the others. And this communal tournament, with time, shaped the sporting mentality of the Indian subcontinent. Cricket matches were played on the grounds of ‘me against you’… more than ‘us against them’.
Sports, in India, be it cricket or football, became just another platform for the Hindu to fight against the Muslim… for the Parsi to show his superiority… for the Christian to exist equally. And all of you, who hazily believe that cricket brings men together in a common sporting mission, should read Ramachandra Guha’s horrific tale of the great left arm Dalit bowler, Palwankar Baloo. The first Indian great of the sport, Baloo was the most crucial member of the Hindu XI for around two decades, yet his cricketing fate always hung loosely from a thread held by his higher caste mates. Along with his three brothers, the Palwankars remain the greatest cricketing family in India, unofficially. Branded as untouchables, the four brothers were grudgingly selected, never honoured with captaincy, and often pictured a lost cause, even in their team’s victories.
“Cricket is a powerful device to make a larger social, and even philosophical point, simply because it’s the most popular sport in this country.”
You can argue that at least cricket provided them with a level playing field, where they could challenge the prejudice and bias of caste, but that is true of all public arenas, where an inferior can compete in.
Has Indian cricket been a good citizen? Yes, if you don’t look at it as an agent of virtuous patriotism.
The Indian cricket team and its selectors, from time to time, have always laid emphasis on the country’s communal diversities, and have tried to unify them. Today, an MS Dhoni from Jharkhand can lead India, a Munaf Patel and an Irfan Pathan can spearhead India’s bowling, but, the divides remain. No more sectarian, but regional. No more the Pentangular, but the Ranji Trophy; a tournament named after a prince who thought lowly of playing alongside Palwankar Baloo.
E M Forster in a famous essay in Two Cheers for Democracy, poses the question: What does one do if it comes to the hard choice between betraying one’s country and one’s closest friend? The thugs’ modern version of the gentleman’s game, Indian Premier League, witnessed one such situation when Kolkata’s beloved son was playing against Kolkata, at Kolkata. During the match, the Bengalis made it absolutely clear that it is the friend who matters more than the country. And it is here that we lose out on being a sporting nation, not just in terms of sports.
Cricket is a powerful device to make a larger social, and even philosophical point, simply because it’s the most popular sport in this country. It’s the mentality of the individual to work and to perform for the cause of his nation that shapes the nation’s sporting mentality. It’s not about idolizing the individual over the cause of the nation, and this is the outline of Indian cricket’s performance over the last century.
Some argue that we need to look at India’s sporting mentality through the prism of hockey, which includes more tribals and Dalits, to re-imagine India as a sporting nation. I believe otherwise. There’s no scope for reimagination, because the root of the problem lies in the roots itself. When Gorkhaland asks for a Gorkha football league, and when communal tensions in Assam spread to their Ranji dressing rooms, it is tough to even imagine a sporting nation.
Sports reflect the ideological fashions of the day. And when I try to imagine India as a sporting nation, I see sports clearing the dark clouds, and spanning the blues, the violets, the yellows, the reds, the greens… of the Indian diversity.
