British Lions must decide whether they dare go into the political rugby den
Sometime this year (the precise date has yet to be fixed) eight middle-aged men will meet to decide whether the British Isles are to send a rugby team to South Africa in the summer of 1980. These men form the tour committee of the Rugby Football Union. They are mostly former players of distinction — two Englishmen, two Scotsmen, two Welshmen and two Irishmen. The chairman is Mr M. R. Steele-Bodger, a Staffordshire vet, a former English international and Cambridge blue, and a long-serving rugby bureaucrat. Indeed it would not be going too far to say that, if there is a rugby “Establishment,” it is embodied by Mr Steele-Bod-ger. Whatever he and his committee decide, it is bound to be wrong in somebody’s eyes. The 1980 Olympic Games will take place in Moscow while the projected South African tour is proceeding. Mr Vladimir Popov, the vicepresident of the Russian committee organising the Games, has said that if the tour is made, the British Olympic team will not be welcome in Moscow — will, indeed, be prevented from participating in the Games.
There has already been some legalistic argument of the sporting variety (usually the most legalistic of all varieties) about whether Mr Popov, or the Russian Government, can properly prevent British participation. The British Olympic Association, which formally receives the invitation to take part in the Games has, according to this argument, done nothing wrong. It will still have done nothing wrong even if the South African tour goes forward. For, in Britain, rugby is not an Olympic sport. The Rugby Union is not affiliated to the British Olympic Association. It is a completely independent body — independent also, it should be noted, of the Sports Council, which receives public funds. They order these things differently in France. There rugby is an Olympic sport, which is perhaps odd, because rugby is not
played at the Olympic Games. Anyway, the International Olympic Committee felt able to urge the French rugby authorities to cancel a projected tour of France by South Africa. The French Government indicated that it would lend its support to the 1.0. C. by withholding visas from the South Africans. So the tour was called off. But the matter is not solely one of the Rugby Union’s lack of connection with the Olympic authorities. The Commonwealth is also involved. The South African rugby tour was not discussed at the recent gathering at Lusaka.
In June 1977, however, when the conference was held in London, the participants took themselves off for a relaxing weekend, at which, we may be sure, numerous bottles of fine old French-type wine were consumed, at the Gleneagles Hotel in Perthshire.
This pleasant occasion produced the Gleneagles Agreement, which is frequently referred to but seldom quoted. The unanimous communique stated that member-States of the Commonwealth would “take, every practical step to discourage contact or competition by their nationals with sporting organisations, teams or sportsmen from South Africa.”
This is still British Government policy. It was affirmed in a recent parliamentary answer by Lord Carrington. Two aspects at least are worth noting about it. First, it applies to nationals, irrespective of whether their sport is connected with the Olympic Association or a different consideration — is in receipt of Government money. And, second, it applies to South Africa specifically: there is nothing in general terms about totalitarian or racialist States, which is perhaps just as well. Now some people may think that, on strict liberal principles, the Gleneagles Agreement ought never to have been concluded at all — or that Britain ought never to have put her hand to it. This is the at* titude not only of many
rugby administrators but also of many, probably a majority of, rugby players. Although Mr Steele-Bod-ger may be a paradigm of the rugby Establishment, it is erroneous to think that the maintenance of rugby connections with South Africa is an establishmentarian cause. The picture of tweedy buffers at Twickenham, or at the East India Sports and Public Schools Club (the game’s unofficial headquarters in .England), crusted reactionaries to a man, is misleading. The Welsh clubs, for instance, have played a principal part in retaining the links.
It was no coincidence that, when the South Ari-
cans last toured Britain, the crowd which was most enraged by the demonstrators was at Swansea. Cardiff and Newport are currently touring South Africa.
A black Cardiff player was informed beforehand that he would be treated in all respects as a white man on the tour. He nevertheless refused to go. The Cardiff club said they quite understood and took off without him. The Llanelli club have just returned from South Africa.
Two schoolmaster-play-ers, employees of the Dyfed Council, were granted leave of' absence. Another schoolmaster, an employee of the West Glamorgan Council, was refused: he left for South Africa as soon as term was over.
There are, of course, exceptions. John Taylor, the Welsh player, declined to be considered for the British Isles (or Lions) tour of South Africa in 1974. His subsequent rugby career did not suffer in any way. Carwyn James, the Lions coach in New Zealand in 1971, coached the Llanelli team that played the South Africans on their last visit but refused to watch the match. It might have been more logical to refuse to do the coaching.
At all events, it is clear that recent Governments have done little to prevent or discourage individual rugby clubs from visiting South Africa. I do not think they ought to have done more. I am opposed to rugby clubs playing in South Africa: but I do not believe that a Government should prevent them from doing so, even if it had the power (and withdrawal of passports, a drastic and arbitrary action, seems to be the only effective sanction).
Are national, or in this case multi-national, sides — for the Irish Republic also is a participant — any different in principle? In 1973-74 the then Conservative Government clearly did not think so. The 1974 Lions tour of South Africa took place with surprisingly little fuss.
True, Mr Denis Howell, the incoming Minister of Sport in the Wilson Government, publicly deplored the tour and said he hoped it would not take place. He then appeared at London Airport to welcome the victorious tourists on their return, where he was joined in the celebrations by the Leader of the Opposition, Mr Edward Heath.
But things have changed. There are the Olympic Games in Moscow. There is the Gleneagles Agreement and, in addition,- much ministerial
sensitivity over the Commonwealth and Rhodesia. However, the principal objection to playing, especially perhaps playing rugby, against the South Africans is different: it is that playing gives aid and comfort to a State which, though not totalitarian, literally degrades a majority of its citizens. It does not follow from this that a liberal State is therefore entitled to prevent its own citizens from playing. And the objection to playing South Africa applied equally in 1974. Governments do not see things in quite this way. Mr Hector Monro, the Minister of Sport, does not want this tour to proceed. He does not propose to issue any public statement. He intends rather to talk privately to the members of the tour committee. He will make clear that, while the Government has no power to pre-
vent the tour, he and his colleagues would like it to be cancelled. He is confident of support from the Irishmen and Scotsmen, perhaps less sure of the Englishmen and Welshmen. “Don’t be selfish, chaps. Think of other sportsmen.” This is likely to be Mr Monro’s message. There is talk of postponing the tour until 1981 — though this talk does not come from the Government The whole business, so far as 1980 is concerned, is likely to end in an elaborate display of protocol, with the rugby authorities politely asking the South Africans not to send an invitation. Still, I have great faith in the capacity of all sporting bodies, especially those concerned with rugby and cricket, to make a mess of things if they possibly can. — O.F.N.S. Copyright.
New Zealand rugby authorities are not alone in wrestling with the complications of a South African tour. New Zealand is due to receive a visit from the Springboks in 1981; the British Lions are due to tour the republic next year. Governments can more easily refuse visas to the South Africans (as the French did) than withdraw a national’s passport, so the decision to be made in Britain is of great importance. Looming on the horizon is the 1980 Olympic Games in Moscow and the consequences on Olympic competitors if the rugby tour goes on. ALAN WATKINS, of the London “Observer,” discusses the issue as it affects Britain.
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Press, 30 August 1979, Page 17
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1,467British Lions must decide whether they dare go into the political rugby den Press, 30 August 1979, Page 17
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