The big match


By Omar Kureishi

On March 1, Pakistan will play with India in the World Cup. For cricket fans in the subcontinent, it will be a match even more important than the final.

It will be the first time that the rivals will meet sine the Indian government linked cricket with cross-border terrorism and snapped cricket ties. It was an astonishing linkage but it did not meet with any disapproval from Indian cricket fans. It was a small sacrifice they were being asked to make.

The alternative would have been to ask the cricket fans to go on hunger-strike. India, of course, could have refused to play its World Cup match against Pakistan, as England refused to play in Zimbabwe for a host of patently bogus reasons, but this would have meant forfeiting the points. Sometimes, principles have to be abandoned at the altar of expediency.

In theory I should be looking forward to the big match and it should be a great game of cricket. But will it be a game of cricket? If Indian cricket fans can go on the rampage after India lost Australia, imagine what will happen if India should lose to Pakistan? An unruly mob attacked the home of Mohammad Kaif, prompting some to wonder whether added to the cricket brew was some communal seasoning. In communal riots in pre-partition India, it was not uncommon to settle some personal accounts.

In the 1987 World Cup, when Australia beat Pakistan sweets were distributed by Hindus and this enraged the Indian Muslims and four or five people died. When England beat India the following day, sweets were once again distributed, this time by Muslims, and a few more people died.

In 1996, the late Farooq Mazhar and I went to Banglore to watch Pakistan play India. This is how I had described the scene at the ground: " When we got to the ground, surprisingly without too much hassle and a minimum of jostling, the Chinnaswamy Stadium was almost full and there were long queues that stretched halfway to Calcutta, or so it seemed. Where would these people sit?

There was a sea of flags, the Indian tricolour. The crowd was already boisterous, though it could not be described as a festive mood. The occasion was too serious and the crowd made its intentions clear as it set up a crescendo of boos when it caught sight of a Pakistan player who had gone out to have a knock-up.

There was no goodwill, only malice. The atmosphere was charged, it was electric, it was nasty as it might have been in ancient Rome when the gladiators fought. It would prove to be a shamelessly partisan crowd, utterly graceless, a crowd that wanted only one decision and it was too frightening to contemplate what might happen if there was some other decision. There was the stench of hatred, from the rotten carcass of jingoism."

Nor did our own public cover itself with glory. On our way back, there was a lay- over of a few hours at Delhi and we took a room at one of the hotels near the airport. The Pakistan team was also at the same hotel. Riaz Khokhar was our High Commissioner then, and he had invited the team to a lunch at the hotel. When he learnt that I was also at the hotel, he extended me an invitation. The players were downcast, which was understandable, but they were also frightened. Their families had received threatening phone calls, the houses of one or two of them had been stoned. There was a report that the team would be met by a mob, a sort of 'welcome' committee. The travels plans of the team were changed and, in the end, they sneaked back home, almost in disguise.

National pride has been hijacked by multinationals and big business houses. So much passion has been created, so much emotion is being paraded, particularly in India by massive, patriotic advertising, that Indian team and the players have either been turned into demi-gods or clowns.

There has been an attempt to match this in Pakistan but we don't have the same kind of money that the Indians have. Still, it would be interesting to know how much money has been spent on 'selling' national pride. It would run into millions. This is a criminal waste of money. It has also created a very dangerous mood. One team will win and the other will lose. Neither victory nor defeat will be accepted. Perhaps, it might be best if the match was to be washed out.

Most of all, I fear for the Indian Muslims, fear what the thugs of Bal Thackeray will do in Mumbai or the hoodlums of Narendra Modi will do in Gujrat. Neither need much provocation to bring out their knives and their torches and kick up a storm of communal frenzy.

I will watch the match but will do so nervously and with great trepidation. This is not what game of cricket is about but this is what happens when national pride is turned into group hatred.