The IPL’s Tampered Ball
The player auction represented the tragic blurring of two distinct spheres of experience: politics and cricket.
If one sought to imagine how India might act as a superpower, one could do worse than follow the world of cricket, where it already is one. The last decade has witnessed not just a resurgence of India as a top international side, but also its complete domination of the administrative and financial levers of the sport.
With power comes privilege. After 96 years of being based in London, the International Cricket Council moved its headquarters eastwards, to Dubai, to be closer to the new centre of power. The ‘liberal’ entente regarding the rotation of World Cup hosting rights between continents was done away with, the subcontinent demanding a second helping over Australia and New Zealand’s protestations. And now, the world’s richest and most high-profile league is based in India, attracting the best international talent. Rich, brash, ruthless and unforgiving, Indian cricket has acted much like a hegemon might have been expected to act in international politics.
The dynamics of this parallel world order, however, rarely matched those of the international political system. The other poles of power in cricket have been Australia, South Africa and England, none of whom would count themselves among India’s chief political competitors. Along with Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh, India formed a powerful subcontinental bloc, despite constant political friction with its neighbours. While perhaps ‘unnatural,’ the parallel universes could exist in relative harmony, their distinction, in fact, proving mutually invigorating. Cricket could always thrive, while helping to overcome and dilute political conflict.
But the third IPL player auction, held today in Mumbai, represents a tragic blurring of the two spheres of experience. Several star Pakistani players on the auction block were painfully, publicly passed over by Indian franchises. The cricketing logic for this collective decision on the part of IPL teams is certainly questionable. On present form and future potential, there is no reason that Umar Akmal and Mohammed Aamer should have been passed over. Shahid Afridi may arguably be past his destructive prime, but few non-Indian players are bigger draws for Indian cricket fans. And Sohail Tanvir and Umar Gul already proved themselves Twenty20 superstars in the 2008 edition of the IPL, with the former finishing top wicket-taker. Added insult to their snub came in the form of players who were picked instead: the long-ordinary Mohammad Kaif, retired stroke-maker Damien Martyn, and the chronically unfit Yusuf Abdulla.
The publicly-stated reason for the snub was unsatisfactory: teams were simply unwilling to deal with the added security and uncertainty that Pakistani players would bring with them. Given the security necessary to hold the IPL (the absence of which forced a move of last year’s edition to South Africa) and the draw their inclusion would bring the tournament in Pakistan, these excuses ring hollow.
Worst, the manner in which this was done (the Pakistani players were reportedly included in the auction following demonstrations of interest by teams), renders irrelevant all the cloying calls for peace, understanding and Track IV dialogue being made by the Indian and Pakistani media in recent weeks and months. If cricket—perhaps the last bastion of Indian popular culture left untainted by the worst aspects of international politics—is to be tarnished in this manner, it is a sad day indeed.
Polaris