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Springbok or not - what`s in an emblem?

Monday 20th October 2008

What's in an emblem?

It makes no difference to my life whether the Springbok emblem dies a slow tortured death or is retained as the symbol of the South African national rugby team.

For the record, I don't believe the emblem is divisive to the extent Sports and Recreation Portfolio Committee chairperson Butana Komphela alleges it is. By the same token, I don't believe the same symbol is the unifying force Dave Morris makes it out to be in his impassioned rebuttal of Komphela's utterances.

On this esteemed website in an article bristling with emotive language, Morris lashed Komphela and his ilk for "sticking their subjective noses were it doesn't belong, making foolish accusations coupled with fallacious statements that could bring South Africa's most recognised and respected sporting symbol to an end."

The choice of image - Mandela congratulating 1995 World Cup winning captain Francois Pienaar - to accompany Morris' article is a stroke of disingenuity and intended to buttress the writer's argument. The clincher - or the devil - is in the caption: "Under threat: The Springbok succeeded in uniting a fractured nation like never before."

Morris is not the first to overstate the power of the Springboks to unite a polarised nation. Equally overstated is the role of the so-called 'Madiba magic' in helping the Springboks win the coveted Webb Ellis trophy in 1995.

Perhaps Komphela is a wee bit misguided and scraping the bottom of the barrel in his search for a new agenda for his committee to execute, to justify both its relevance and its very existence. However, what the man who has become persona non grata to the rugby establishment says is nothing new. It is for this reason that I have been shocked more by the incredulous and hysterical responses to Komphela's comments than by the comments themselves.

Komphela has merely reignited a debate as old as it is rancorous and emotive. Anyone who claims that the fate of the Springbok emblem was sealed in favour of its retention or abolishment a long time ago lies though their teeth. South Africans just haven't had the stomach for yet another racially-charged dialogue, nor the energy to engage in such trivia in a country with more pressing concerns. They have opted to adopt a let-sleeping-dogs-lie attitude. As a consequence, ambivalence and general apathy towards the Springbok emblem has been construed (misconstrued?) by some as tacit approval of its acceptability as a national symbol.

Mandela is a key resource in this debate. It used to be that the surest way to trump your opponent and effectively close debate, or to demonstrate that your cause was a virtuous one, was to claim it had Nelson Mandela's support. This is a tactic Morris employs when he claims that Madiba was the patron of the 'save the Springbok emblem' campaign ahead of the 1995 World Cup.

That Mandela lent his considerable profile to the Springbok team in 1995 is not in dispute. A lesser human being would have restricted his involvement to the cold and obligatory presidential handshake and good luck message before kick off.

However, it is erroneous to conclude that what was clearly an inimitable gesture of magnanimity by Mandela, consistent with the great man's conciliatory disposition, was effectively a seal of approval for the beleaguered Springbok emblem. At a time when emotions were running high and most black South Africans rejected the lily-white rugby squad because it wasn't representative of the so-called 'Rainbow Nation' Mandela managed to rally the country behind the team, not the emblem. The raging debate then was about the profile of the squad and the rugby establishment's intransigence in the face of incessant calls to transform.

Those desperate to see the current emblem retained are keen to interpret support by Mandela and the support by the throngs of humanity that took to the streets in 1995 and 2007 to celebrate World Cup victories as ringing endorsement of the Springbok emblem itself. The truth is that Mandela did the presidential thing. And South Africans did the natural thing - they celebrated victories by one of their national teams. However, as soon as the euphoria had subsided the notorious fissures in relations were again as wide as ever for all to see.

A major flaw in Morris's argument is that he counters a hyperbolic claim with another. Komphela says the emblem is divisive. Morris says it's a unifying force.

Morris would have done well to acknowledge that there is lingering and legitimate resentment towards the Springbok emblem. The problem with South African rugby is that for a long time it was run like an Afrikaner fiefdom and became part of the many motifs that defined Afrikaner culture and nationalism. The Springbok lost its purity as a sporting emblem when it became politicised. A national sport was annexed by one race and used in furtherance of a system of racial segregation. Rugby and its custodians became key handmaidens of apartheid.

It is therefore quite staggering to suggest that a symbol sullied by such a history has suddenly morphed into something "uniting a fractured nation like never before."

There is no doubt that a significant proportion of the vociferous resistance to abolishing the Springbok comes from those still nostalgic about the good old days, who are guarding not just the emblem, but the game of rugby in general with proprietary jealousy. These are the people who would have no compunction about telling meddling politicians to stop "sticking their subjective noses were it doesn't belong," to borrow Morris' words.

It is one thing to argue that the Springboks have been the most successful national outfit post apartheid, and they are. However, it is another to argue, as Morris does, that that success has earned them the right to retain the Springbok emblem.

How about this for an alternative and quite plausible argument: South Africa's most successful national team post apartheid deserves better than a controversial moniker. The Springbok emblem might not be as divisive as Komphela claims it is, but it is most certainly as controversial as the man who wants it scrapped.

By Lashias Ncube