George Orwell famously described serious sport as “war minus the shooting,” highlighting its inherent elements of rivalry, pride, and even aggression, far removed from mere fair play. This sentiment often perfectly encapsulated an India-Pakistan cricket match, yet historically, this intense ‘war without gunfire’ rarely spilled over into actual player animosity on the field.
Consider the 1978 tour, which marked the resumption of cricket ties between the two nations after a 17-year hiatus. Despite the captains, Bishan Bedi and Mushtaq Mohammed, being close friends from their Northamptonshire days, the underlying tension was palpable. Majid Khan, an educated and articulate cricketer, infamously declared, “Pakistan is ready for a 1,000-year war with India.” In an era before PR spin doctors, such unfiltered statements were often interpreted literally, underscoring the pervasive view of sports as a symbolic battleground.
Beyond the Boundary: Stories of Camaraderie and Hostility
Despite the rhetoric, many journalists from both sides have consistently reported on the genuine warmth and generosity they experienced while covering matches. I recall, during the 1989-90 Pakistan tour, expressing a wish to visit Mohenjo-daro. To my surprise, I was flown there as an official guest, complete with a guide (who might also have served as security, given the circumstances). My focus was purely historical, not political, and the hospitality was undeniable. Similarly, countless anecdotes from other tours recount shopkeepers refusing payment from visiting writers, a testament to the personal goodwill that often transcended national rivalries.
However, the narrative wasn’t always rosy. The same 1989-90 tour saw unsettling scenes in Faisalabad, where public speakers incited crowds to disrupt games. A one-day international in Karachi was even abandoned due to unrest. Yet, crucially, this “sound and fury” was largely orchestrated by external elements and administrators, seldom by the players themselves, who often maintained friendly relations.
This recent Asia Cup, however, presented a different picture. Attendance in stadiums was unusually sparse, and more notably, the players themselves, seemingly influenced by their respective administrations, fueled the simmering hostility. Acts like refusing handshakes or avoiding interaction with opponents, reportedly in solidarity with fallen soldiers, forced cricket into an uncharacteristic role. This starkly contrasts past eras when “Cricket for Peace” initiatives saw the sport used as a tool for diplomacy, pushing politicians towards reconciliation.
When Sport Becomes Symbolic Battleground
What unfolded at the Asia Cup could be described as politics minus the war, and arguably, it’s a preferable outcome to actual conflict fueled by political tensions. When Sahibzada Farhan celebrates a half-century by miming a gun with his bat, it’s an unsettling display, yet it remains infinitely better than real guns being fired. These mock battles on the cricket field, despite their ugliness and apparent futility, offer a safer outlet than a genuine battlefield where real lives are at stake.
The Indian team, demonstrating both superior skill and maturity, mostly confined their responses to verbal jabs. Skipper Suryakumar Yadav’s comment, “Stop calling India-Pakistan matches a rivalry…it’s a no-contest,” was a notable example of this off-field sledging, a sentiment he must surely hope doesn’t rebound on him by tournament’s end.
Should Pakistan reach the final and face India, the urge to outdo each other, even symbolically, will be immense. If a withheld handshake provokes a bat-as-gun gesture (as seen from Sahibzada Farhan) or mimicking a downed plane (as Haris Rauf did), one wonders if the Indian team will resort to their own theatrical responses. The true spirit of sport is supposed to embody positive ideals like hope, peace, and love. It’s up to us to ensure we paint it with those colors, not shades of animosity.
Perhaps one day, an India-Pakistan cricket match will simply be “just another game,” devoid of extraordinary drama, either on or off the field. A truly boring affair, as some players might wish. But when will that day arrive?