Disgrace: Pakistan cricket and its discontents

by Mike Marqusee
Outlook (India), 6 September
On top of floods, war, bombs, a corrupt and incompetent government with a much f
eared military in the wings, the long-suffering people of Pakistan have now been
betrayed, once again, by their cricketers. Most will not be shocked or will pro
fess not to be shocked: over the last 15 years there has been a steady erosion o
f faith in Pakistan cricket, which has come to be held in the same low esteem as
many of the country’s other institutions. It’s one of the reasons cited, along with
exorbitant ticket prices, for the low turn-out from the Pakistani diaspora at t
his summer’s Test matches in England.
But while people in and from Pakistan may not be shocked they are bitterly aggri
eved. And rightly so. The antics of the three players accused of spot-fixing in
the Lord’s Test have destroyed the little portion of relief cricket affords for mi
llions coping with trying conditions.
Salman Butt, Mohammed Asif and Mohammed Amir had impressed the cricket world at
large by their commitment, intelligence and talent in the course of an at times
humiliating, at times triumphant, summer in England. It’s hard to believe, or to u
nderstand, how these three could do something so stupid, so crass, so risky, so
insulting to team-mates, opponents and fans. But believe – and understand – we must.
In the past, Pakistani cricketers have been subject to false allegations, insinu
ations and slander. Wasim and Waqar, now universally acknowledged as among the m
odern greats and held up as role models, were lambasted by much of the British m
edia in 1992 as “ball tamperers”. In 2007, the team was outrageously accused of comp
licity in the “murder” of coach Bob Woolmer, who had in fact died of natural causes.
But this time the offence is specific and the evidence material. The Rupert Mur
doch owned News of the World has its own agenda, and its methods are dubious (ef
fectively inciting a criminal act), but the recording it has produced makes a po
werful prima facie case against the three cricketers, who have not as yet actual
ly unambiguously denied the charges.
It’s curious that despite a decade of investment in anti-corruption activities, an
d receiving report after report on the subject, the ICC still does not have a fi
xed procedure for dealing with an allegation or a fixed schedule of penalties. W
hen serious allegations emerge, their consequences are hammered out in closed-do
or negotiations among various interested parties, in this case, the ICC, PCB, an
d the ECB, with the Metropolitan Police and Pakistani investigators in the wings
. The opacity and implied horse-trading exacerbate the popular distrust and cyni
cism sewn by the allegations themselves. Justice is meted out on an ad hoc basis
, and ad hoc justice is no justice.
There is an unresolvable tension between the right of the accused to due process
and the immediate requirements of the game. Players must be considered innocent
until proven guilty but the spectacle cannot wait: it becomes a grim farce when
spectators or players lack confidence that it is genuine. There has for many ye
ars been an obvious need for a system of suspension without prejudice as part of
a transparent process for addressing allegations. The cricket establishment’s fai
lure to come up with this is, however, only part of its wider culpability.
It’s not hard to see why young players would develop a lax approach to the integri
ty of the game when those further up the hierarchy routinely display contempt fo
r the law and the ideal of public service. Senior PCB officials are adept at fea
thering their own nests and getting away with it. The president of the country,
Asif Ali Zardari is widely known by the soubriquet of “Mr Ten Percent”: it was he wh
o appointed Ijaz Butt as head of the PCB. Butt’s brother-in-law is defence ministe
r and a Zardari crony. As a result of the mesh of vested interests in Pakistani
cricket, scandal after scandal passes without clear resolution. Treatment of all
eged offenders is wildly inconsistent. Thanks to political, business or even cri
minal connections, individuals regularly escape the consequences of their own di
shonesty or incompetence.
Conflicts of interest abound in cricket, and not only in Pakistan, as the IPL sc
andal confirmed on a grand scale. Administrators, politicians and businessmen ar
e bound together in a web of mutual benefit. Seeking to rig a franchise auction,
siphon off public funds or evade millions in taxation are all much more serious
offences than three deliberate no-balls delivered in a Test match. But unlike t
he cricketers, those responsible are unlikely to pay an appropriate penalty; in
fact, many will continue to wield power and accrue profit from the game. Recent
events have reconfirmed one of cricket’s oldest double standards. Players are alwa
ys judged more harshly than administrators. It’s not hard to understand why accuse
d players would wonder why they should suffer while others who have profited han
dsomely from misbehaviour are not held to account.
The IPL and spot-fixing scandals are both the products of a culture which has ma
de the pursuit of personal profit the acme of human achievement. In certain circ
les, even to question its sacrosanct character is to forfeit social legitimacy.
In a world where wealth is assumed (wrongly) to “trickle down”, the accumulation of
fortunes by whatever means is lauded as a public benefit. Accountability and soc
ial responsibility are considered optional extras. Sport itself has become a pow
erful vehicle for this message. Nike advises us to “Just do it” and in a current adv
ert adds the disturbing slogan “I Am The Rules”.
Cricket, especially in south Asia, has been transformed by the coincidence of a
leap in communications technologies and the liberalisation of capital. It’s in thi
s nexus that one finds the origins of gambling influence and match-fixing, as we
ll as other phenomena deforming the game. The BCCI has been deemed by the Indian
tax authorities to be primarily a “commercial entity” with only a secondary interes
t in the development of the game. Maximising television and sponsorship revenue
has become an end in itself. Money rules and it’s widely implied that only the naïve
or unambitious would have it any other way. The ECB plunged into partnership wi
th Alan Stanford simply because he was a billionaire. They didn’t stop to ask wher
e his billions came from and were genuinely shocked when Stanford proved to be a
mega-fraudster.
One of the sad but striking parts of the News of the World recording shows the w
ay the agent-cum-fixer Mazhar Majeed treats the young cricketers – as inferior bei
ngs dependent on his largesse. And they seem to accept this role. After all, he
has the money and the connections, just like all the others they have been told
to obey and admire.
Corruption in high places is never an excuse for corruption in the lower ranks.
We’re asking the young players to resist a rushing tide, but we are right to do so
.