I’m not a rugby fan. I can’t tell a drop goal from a penalty, and on the whole it’s a bit too rough and tumble for my fragile sensibility. So I don’t normally follow the game. But I watch when the Springboks play. And I want them to win. The reason is simple: they’re clad in green and gold. Anybody emblazoned in our national colours, whatever their colour and in whatever sport, deserves our unstinting support.
I was on a scholarship in the US in 1994, which means the miracle unfortunately passed me by. Immediately after the inauguration of the new government, our group paid a visit to the Boston Globe. On hearing that there was a South African in the group, one of the editors, just back from South Africa, came bounding towards me, beaming from ear to ear. He proudly showed a miniature of the new South African flag pinned on his lapel. It was the first time I had seen it. I shook my head. “I don’t like it,” I said, only half joking. But I’ve been amazed at how the flag has grown on me over the years. It cuddles and caresses my heart strings each time it flutters.
Having been involved in a plane crash, I fly now only if I have to. Once, as I nervously sat in a plane preparing for take-off — in Frankfurt, I think it was — I spotted an SAA jet on the apron with the flag on its tail almost screaming to be noticed. That lifted my heart, and the apprehension seemed to melt away. I often say in jest I should pin the flag on my heart each time I have to fly.
Patriotism is not something we often talk about. It’s had a bad rap, Samuel Johnson calling it the last refuge of scoundrels. Feelings of love, devotion and attachment to one’s country, which is what patriotism is supposed to be, are a good thing, but patriotism can easily be abused. At one extreme it becomes nothing but jingoism — my country right or wrong, and to hell with everyone else — an attitude beloved of tyrants, who often wrap themselves with the flag to conceal their iniquities.
It is at sporting events where people often feel free to proudly wave their flags and show affinity with their countries — for all the world to see
On the whole it can be difficult for the person in the street to distinguish between the ruling party and the nation, especially in one-party states. And criticism of the government can sometimes be deemed an unpatriotic act requiring severe sanctions. The head of government is viewed as a symbol or representative of the nation state and therefore beyond reproach.
Our situation is also a bit complicated because of our divided past. While one part of the population saw allegiance to the government and its apartheid policies as a patriotic obligation, the other was appalled by it. Trying to bring the two together is still a work in progress. Political entities are seldom the ideal vehicle for patriotic displays or expression; by their very nature, they are partisan and therefore divisive. Instead, sport has played the role of the galvanising force. It is at sporting events where people often feel free to proudly wave their flags and show affinity with their countries — for all the world to see.
The Springboks, by far the most consistently successful team in the country’s history, provide a potent example of the role of sport in the life of a nation. Initially exclusively white and generally seen as a symbol of apartheid, rugby became a focal point for both its supporters and enemies.
The blacks, said Danie Craven, must come up with their own symbol. It was only when the sports boycott began to bite that the government and its supporters realised that maybe apartheid wasn’t sustainable. The ANC, realising the importance of sport in bringing people together, agreed to the lifting of the sports boycott even before talks for a new political dispensation had been concluded.
Nelson Mandela’s call for public support for “our boys” during the 1995 Rugby World Cup went over like a lead balloon. And as Mandela, clad in the captain’s jersey, handed the Webb Ellis trophy to Francois Pienaar, the contradictions of a transforming society were on full display — diehard rugby supporters in the stands were chanting “Nelson! Nelson!” even as they proudly waved their old South African flags. That cloth became a source of great controversy at rugby matches, with prominent politicians calling for it to be banned.
But, in fact, what was required was patience. People were slowly getting started on their own difficult individual journeys. Now that flag is hardly seen at rugby matches. The all-conquering Springboks are breaking barriers, appealing to all sectors of the population and uniting people who’d otherwise be divided. Everybody loves a winner.
Patriotism is not merely the love of country, or its flora and fauna. The crucial ingredient is the people. And patriotism therefore should be about total love of and devotion to all your compatriots — without exception, qualification or discrimination. It should also be about the willingness to give more than one takes from the public warehouse or granary. To be patriotic is to work for the public good. Therefore anybody — private citizen, public servant, business-person, whoever — who plunders, steals, murders, rapes or is involved in any activity harmful to society cannot be a patriot.
September is heritage month, when we’re called upon to celebrate our diverse cultures. Are we going to work towards those long-sought goals of social cohesion and a shared national identity, a new patriotism, if you like? Or do we see this period as merely an occasion to revert to our comfortable cultural ghettos?
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