Metaphors in South African Rugby:
From Business to War,
Isak Niehaus
(Brunel University, London)
‘You can take a rugby player and within half an hour make a soldier out of him’ (General Magnus Malan, cited in Grundlingh 1996:187) [1].
In their book Metaphors we Life By
In the game of rugby union two metaphors stand out, namely, warfare and the bureaucracy.
Hence, I was forced to read more widely. Though suggestive, I did not find satisfactory answers to Rod’s questions in the existing academic literature on South African rugby [3]. Authors often focus on the social relationships surrounding rugby, or draw connections between certain aspects of rugby and Afrikaner nationalist politics. The latter includes the subordination of individual interests to the greater good of the team and the inculcation of respect for rules and authority. As bodily practice, rugby is also held to instil moral discipline and celebrate the physical power of Afrikaner men. Archer and Bouillon (1982:72) discern symbolic parallels between the intricacies of rugby and the ‘pioneering spirit’ of Afrikaner men. These include the valorisation of strength, physical endurance and speed, fellowship and a sense of shared effort. One provocative idea is that the scrum is representative of the laager, the circular wagon formation Afrikaners used for protection whilst trekking to the country’s interior (ibid. 1982:66).
From reading more general literature on the social history and anthropology of sport, I gained two more fruitful analytical points of departure. First, is Elias’ (1986) description of sport as ‘mimetic battle’. Elias argues that sport produces excitement to counteract the stresses of the ordinary routines of social life. Like the arts, it imitates real life situations, but unlike the arts, sport always involves physical contests. It has the excitement of danger and a climax that resolves tensions in the triumph of victory or in the disappointment of defeat. However, sport does not bear the same risks of injury as real combat (p.50). Good contests are also enjoyable, even if one loses.
Elias (1986) also attempts to relate the development of sport to broader ‘civilising’ processes in Europe. He observes that modern sport developed in 18th century England: a time of pacification, when cycles of violence had broken down, and landholders no longer feared revolt by agrarian lower classes. The Whigs and Tories now competed for office in Parliament through non-violent means, according to mutually agreed upon rules. Skills of debate had replaced the power of the sword, and there was sufficient trust for former rulers to hand over power without fear that rivals might use the resources of government against them. Elias sees certain parallels between the self-control and self-restraint demanded by modern sport and English parliamentary government. Tighter rules developed to regulate sport beyond the local level and sport emerged as non-military combat between nation states.
Second, I found Handelman (1998) description of sport as a spectacle of bureaucratic society extremely useful. Handelman characterises ‘rituals’ and ‘spectacles’ as different sorts of public events. Rituals, he argues, embody the meta-logic of a ‘model’ that exists as abstraction of social reality in a temporary micro-world. Rituals do not make statements, but attempt to transform people by altering elements of the model. By contrast, the meta-logic of a spectacle is that of a ‘mirror’, that does not act in and of itself. A mirror has representation as its dominant theme: it is a reflexive surface that shows how things are. Handelman sees spectacles as intrinsically connected to a bureaucratic order and to science that aims to make visible everything in the phenomenal world through itemising and categorising. Sporting spectacles such as the Olympic games celebrate bureaucratic order, whist pretending to do something very different. Much like Moscow’s October parade, the games reflect and magnify the state’s taxonomic divisions. This is evident in the march past of nations, the itemisation of events, establishment of hierarchy, and the precise calibration of time, length, height, and distance [4].
Arens’s (1975) and Drummond’s (1986) accounts of American football capture these potentials, showing ‘striking similarities’ between features of this sport and of the society that nourished it. The exclusivity of football to men, and the use of equipment that accentuates the male physique (helmets, shoulder pads and cleats) highlight the salience of masculine domination in the United Sates (Arens 1975:9). The competitiveness, minute specialisation, and complex division of labour in football also accords with the principles that organise American corporate life. ‘Like the corporate executive and worker, the football player is virtually faceless; his individuality has been consumed by the voracious demands of his function’ (Drummond 1986:83). Teams also rely on extremely sophisticated technologies of surveillance and communication. Finally, the enactment of violence through territorial incursions and tactical manoeuvres resonates with the manner in which the United States conducts warfare.
Based upon these analytical insights, this article suggests that we can best explain rugby’s special appeal to Afrikaner men, by treating the game seriously as a social phenomenon in itself, and by conceptualising it as a peculiar spectacle of war and of bureaucracy. I argue that formulaic elements of rugby resonate strongly with militarism and of governance as prominent themes in the history of Afrikaners [5]. As mimetic combat, rugby accords with contestation between different political factions in a formerly racially exclusive parliament. Moreover, Afrikaner men have actually been key participants in major wars of the 20th century such as the Anglo-Boer War, first and second World Wars; in suppressing black insurrections against the apartheid state, and in the South African Defence Force’s military incursions into Namibia and Angola (Cock & Nathan 1989). Apartheid also implied excessive bureaucratisation. Never comprising more than 4 percent of the country’s population, Afrikaner men effectively dominated and controlled all state institutions (Seegers 1993).
The proceeding discussion is divided into three parts. I first provide a brief social history of South African rugby, and then outline basic structural features of the sport. Hereafter I draw on the biographies of Francois Pienaar, Gary Teichman and Corné Krige who captained the South African Springboks between 1993 and 2004 [6], to offer a more praxis-orientated account. Written with the assistance of professional journalists, their biographies assume familiarity with intricacies of the game and provide a unique ‘behind the scenes’ view of South African rugby. The latter discussion takes a necessarily step beyond the theme of structure, towards considering the sentiments, dispositions, inclinations and schemes engendered by playing rugby (Light and Kirk 2001). These sources suggest that rugby does not merely represent the logic, but also instils the habits, of war and of bureaucracy.
South African Rugby: A Brief Social History
According to legend rugby originated when William Ellis of the school Rugby took a football into his arms and ran with it. This innovation was institutionalised at the school, and the sport subsequently became associated with the English elite (Smith 2007). Rugby was first introduced to the prestigious English-medium schools of Cape Town in 1861, and a year later a team of officers of the Eleventh Regiment played a civil service XV in the city (Allen 2003:48). British teams regularly visited the Cape during the latter half of the nineteenth century to cement ties with the colony. Military bands performed at their matches and there were toasts to the Queen, governor, and Cape Ministry.
The bitter Anglo-Boer war of 1899 to 1902 had unexpected effect on the development of rugby. During the war 24,000 Boer soldiers were sent to prisoner-of-war camps in the British enclaves of St. Helena, Ceylon and India. Here, sporting activity was used as a means of biding time and many Afrikaner men were first introduced to the intricacies of the game (Van der Merwe 1992). In the aftermath of the war, rugby became a means of forging unity between English and Afrikaans speakers. In 1906 Paul Roos an Afrikaner, led the national South African team, whom he called the Springboks, on an extremely successful tour of the British Isles. Subsequent teams built on these performances and their regular international victories became a means of celebrating the vigour of the new (white) nation.
The connections between rugby and the military are apparent from the experiences of Springbok rugby heroes during the World War I. Jackie Morkel was tragically killed in battle; Billy Millar was severely wounded; and Frank Mellish won the Military Cross (Greyvenstein 1977:63,67) [7].
Afrikaner men came to play a more prominent role in rugby with the development of Afrikaans-medium universities, and with the increase of Afrikaans-speaking civil servants (Nauright 1997:85). As in England, South African rugby had an elective affinity with the middle classes. The University of Stellenbosch became an early centre of the game. Rugby also established a foothold amongst students and government employees in South Africa’s capital city, Pretoria, and became virtually compulsory for schoolboys.
Until 1939, rugby featured high on the agenda of South Africa’s United Party government. Administrators who favoured participation in World War II, collected money for war funds during rugby fixtures, and South African troops fought Rommel’s Africa Korps under the banner of the ‘Springbok Legion’ (Roos 2005). In 1944 South African and New Zealand inmates of the prisoner-of-war camp at Thorn in Poland organised a test match series. One of the most enthusiastic South African players in the camp was the young Jewish front-ranker, ‘Okey’ Geffin, who later became a most accurate Springbok place kicker (Greyvenstein 1977:132,134).
The growing Afrikaner Nationalist movement also appreciated rugby’s political potential, and after the National Party came to power in 1948, rugby attained a thinly disguised anti-imperialist message (Grundelingh 1996:187). Afrikaners hailed the Springbok tour of Britain in 1951 - that saw them winning 30 out of 31 games - as symbolic revenge for military defeat during the Anglo-Boer war. In 1955 nearly 100,000 spectators crammed into Ellis Park to watch a match between the Springboks and British Lions. Such interest demonstrates clearly the enormous political potential of rugby: white South Africans who were opposed to the National Party, or had little interest in politics, nonetheless identified with the Springboks [8].
During National Party rule, a monopoly of civil service jobs facilitated increased economic security amongst Afrikaners. Between 1946 and 1977 the percentage of Afrikaners in white-collar occupations increased from 29 to 65% (Giliomee 1979:169). Rugby was an amateur game, and players needed comfortable employment to play the sport for extended periods. A survey of provincial rugby players in the 1970s shows that 72% were professionals or white collar workers, 10% students, 8 farmers, and only 10% blue collar workers (Grundelingh 1996:189). Like government, Springbok Rugby was the preserve of white men. Afrikaners believed that Blacks were more capable of playing football: a less sophisticated game that demanded natural skills (Nauright 1997:94). Black rugby teams nonetheless played in separate leagues, and foreign touring parties to South Africa were not permitted to include black players. In Cape Town Coloured fans were seated separately and usually supported visiting sides. (The massacre of sixty-nine black civilians by policemen at Shapeville shows that combat between white and black South Africans were not mimetic.)
Throughout this period the Afrikaner Broederbond (literally ‘brotherhood’) promoted Afrikaner interests at all levels of rugby. Broederbond members took over key administrative positions and tried to influence Springbok team selection (Wilkens and Strijdom 1980: 236-49, Claassen 1985: 223-33). Captains such as Kobus Louw and Davie De Villiers were members of the Broederbond and later became National Party cabinet ministers. But Afrikaner Nationalist hegemony was never total. ‘Doc’ Danie Craven, a supporter of the United Party, chaired the South African Rugby Board from 1956 until his death in 1993, and a few Springbok captains were well-known Afrikaner liberals or English-speakers. The Broederbond failed to unseat Craven due to his powerful personality and international contacts [9], but carefully monitored his activities. For example, a diplomat warned him not to indulge in too close contact with Maori people whilst on tour in New Zealand (Nauright 1997:89). Some rugby matches also produced unanticipated results. In 1974 the British Lions defeated the Springboks in three successive Test matches, shaking the confidence of white South Africans.
Since the late 1960s, international opponents of apartheid seized upon rugby to press forward political demands. Protesters disrupted Springbok tours abroad, foreign rugby unions cancelled tours, and South Africa was effectively excluded from international rugby from 1986 until 1992. White South Africans felt under siege and the country became increasingly militarised. Although all white men were conscripted to military service for periods in excess of two years, the permanent force and police service was largely Afrikaans speaking [10].
But government gradually began to make concessions. In 1970 Prime Minister B.J. Voster, who was a former rugby administrator, allowed blacks in foreign teams to play in South Africa. A decade later Coloured schoolboys played in the national Craven week; and Errol Tobias became the first black Springbok rugby player. Albert Hertzog and Andries Treurnicht resigned from cabinet in protest against these changes, and established the Reformed National Party and Conservative Party as new right wing political formations.
In 1989 the South African Rugby Union joined discussions with the banned African National Congress (ANC) to dismantle apartheid, and the international sport boycott effectively came to an end with the repeal of all racist laws. White rugby spectators initially played the old anthem and waved the old South African flag when test matches resumed. But South Africa’s new national symbols gradually gained ground. In 1995 South Africa hosted and won the third Rugby World Cup. The Springboks played under the slogan, ‘One Team, One Country’ and the South African Rugby Union made 40% of net profits available to develop coaching facilities in black residential areas. Nelson Mandela visited the Springbok training camp, publically called on all black South Africans to support the team, and celebrated South Africa’s dramatic victory dressed in the captain’s No. 6 rugby jersey. The players responded by embracing Mandela as icon, and sometimes wore the number of his old prison cell (46664) on the left sleeve of their jerseys. But attempts to re-imagine the Springboks as symbol of nation building in the post-apartheid era have been marred by the absence of substantial transformation in who is selected to represent the team (Booth 1996, Farquardson and Marjoribanks 2003). Through their contribution to Springbok victories, Afrikaners have dramatised the importance of their contribution as an ethnic minority to the new country.
Following a deal with satellite television stations, and the introduction of new competitions between South African, New Zealand, and Australian teams, rugby has become thoroughly professionalised. Whereas the Springboks were previously amateurs their rugby contracts were now worth in excess of 1 million rand per annum. Despite these changes, and also the explicit attempts by the coach Harry Viljoen to introduce business models to the management of the Springbok team (Keohane 2004:19-33), rugby has not lost its military connotations. Violence is still a prominent theme in South Africa. Gun ownership remains extremely high (Cock 2001). Afrikaner men have also found an important economic niche in the booming security industry (Kirsch 2007) and even in transnational mercenary organisations such as Executive Outcomes.
Rugby, Bureaucracy and War: A Structural Analysis
References to warfare are pervasive in the lexicon of rugby. In 1949 the captain, Boy Louw exclaimed: ‘When South Africa plays New Zealand, consider your country at war’ (Dobson 1996:9). The Springboks are referred to as ‘squad’ of ‘warriors’, who engage in ‘campaigns’, go to ‘battle’, ‘attack’, ‘defend’ and secure ‘victories’. They also ‘march’ onto the field, sing the national anthem, confront the New Zealand ‘war challenge’ canned haka, ‘charge’ at the opposition following kick offs, and use ‘codes’ in the line outs. At certain grounds a ‘siren’ sounds the end of play.
The structural aspects of rugby, in turn, exhibit and exaggerate central aspects of modern bureaucratic organisations. These include the meticulous marking of space and time. Rugby is played on a standardised rectangular (battle) ‘field’ that displays the monotonous universal features of ‘non-spaces’ (Augé 1995). The field measures 100 metres in length and 70 metres in width. Touch-lines, five metre- and fifteen-metre lines mark the length of the pitch; and a halfway line, ten metre-, twenty-two metre, goal, and dead-ball lines run across. Flags are planted along the corners of the touchlines. In the middle of each goal line is located an H shaped goal; comprising two uprights of 5.5 metres, and a crossbar of three metres above the ground.