Somewhere along the line, athletes felt their platforms ought to be used as a place to make moral stands about the injustices in the world. Rather than dismissing this half baked messiah complex facade, society brought in hook,line and sinker. Now, Australian cricketer Usman Khawaja has found himself leading an unwanted moral crusade.
Michael Jordan is not Mother Teresa
Caught in the crossfires of this cultural phenomenon, the Australian cricket player, Usman Khawaja, wanted to make a few notable adjustments to his attire in the Boxing Day test match between Australia and Pakistan. He wanted to display a dove symbol on his cricket bat to symbolise peace in reference to the Israel and Hamas conflict. His request was rejected. The batsman also requested to wear a slogan on his shoes saying “all lives are equal” to announce and raise awareness for the equality of all human life. The ICC also denied this.
On the 13th December, the 37 year old took to X, and wrote, “ All lives are equal. Freedom is a human right. I’m raising my voice for human rights. For a humanitarian appeal. If you see it any other way, That’s on you.”
The gaping irony is almost embarrassing. In times of a highly tense, fractious, and bloody war between Israel and Hamas, we must find out what Usman’s moral stance is on the value of human life. Years ago, the American comedian Dave Chapelle made an onstage joke about how, in times of crisis, the public and the media turn to the most irrelevant figures to weigh in.:
Chapelle said, impersonating a news anchor, “We will now be hearing from Ja-Rule.” Chapelle then went on, “ Who the **** cares about what Ja-Rule thinks?”Has Usman Khawaja now become the new Walter Cronkite?
If Usman says it, we must pay attention. The cricketer has forgotten one simple thing: no one cares what he thinks about the conflict, not because it’s him but because he’s a cricket player. Spectators and television viewers will watch the cricket to hopefully see him display a solid performance, not to see symbols on his cricket bat for peace.
After spending a lifetime perfecting the craft of batting, why do we accept the absurdity of an athlete providing their empty, moralising, self-serving opinions on matters of complex political situations? Khawaja and other sports athletes are not paid millions of dollars to offer their moral stances or assessments on matters of international relations, geopolitics, or systemic injustices. Yet they insist on injecting their opinions into the mix. They are paid lucrative contracts to play a game; in Khawaja’s case, he is supremely skilled at using a cricket bat to hit a ball.
Athletes need to remember that the cameras that surround them are there to track their performance. And the mainstream media needs to remember that if they cannot produce newsworthy stories, then they should leave the journalism game.
Khawaja is free to support peace; indeed, it is a laudable aim, but he should do so in his own personal time. If he and others are so serious about supporting peace in the Gaza strip, then perhaps they should fly there, assist the injured, engage in diplomatic discussion with Hamas and Israel, help the injured, and work alongside organisations like Doctors without Borders. The Australian Government has also just accepted 700 Palestinians from the conflict zone; perhaps those who feel so compelled by peace would be more than willing to open the doors of their homes to these refugees? They could also run for public office. But if they don’t do any of these things, then the Australian public needs to stop hearing how much they support peace, justice, and human rights. Everyone wants to be Jesus until it comes time to be Jesus. They should leave their political opinions out of the public arena. Just because their work is broadcast on national television, it doesn’t give them the right to broadcast their political opinions.
Part of this problem lies in a deeper human impulse: the need to idolise and hero worship. We have generations of people who take “hero worship” to the extreme. In ancient Greece, it was termed “apotheosis” and was reserved for people who were somewhere between man and deity. Today, our version of ‘Hercules’ or ‘Achilles’ are unfortunately athletes. While their abilities are things of marvel, they should not be worshipped as demi-gods.
But somewhere along the line, we expected more of them too. We began to care not only about what athletes did on the field but also about what they thought about global matters and what their politics were.
Now the surest sign of a sports star in the making is someone who excels in sport and verbalise their opposition to social injustice whenever they have the opportunity.
I have the sneaking suspicion that this infectious disease arose out of Hollywood. Actors and actresses began to use the stage at awards ceremonies to make self-aggrandising, verbose, self-serving statements about the environment or the social injustices of racism. In the age of constant absurdity, Australia is desperate for some common sense. Australians will sleep, the earth will rotate around the sun, and our understanding of the moral basis of human worth and dignity will still be intact without Usman’s input.
The British comedian Ricky Gervais said it best. “Take your award, thank your agent, thank your God, and **** off.”
