Article
Comment
Community
Race
3 min read

Racism is back on the streets

A ring-pull moment unleashes violence, what can be done?

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

Rioters confront police, one wearing a sinister Union Jack mask

Racist violence is back on the streets of Britain. Some say it never went away in the first place. Never mind that we have just had our first brown Prime Minister or that we have the most diverse cabinet in history. Just listen to the chants on the streets, watch a viral video of a lone black or Asian man being kicked to the ground by a gang of white men, or read the graffiti on the sides of hotels housing asylum-seekers who fled the Taliban because they dared to help the British army. Talk to those who feel afraid - most will agree: racist violence is back and it is unacceptable.  

The riots on the streets of cities around the UK brings back all too painfully for me the memory of those dark corners of my school yard where I was trapped by bullies throwing insults and punches in my direction, just because my skin colour was different. Now once again, I, along with my friends and family, and all communities of colour, are beginning to think twice before we leave our homes or walk down our streets.  

Back when I was just that kid in the playground, I once opened a can of cola that, unbeknown to me, had been shaken vigorously. As I heard the crack of the ring pull, I was immediately drenched by a fountain of black sugary liquid and an eruption of cruel laughter. That humiliating event of my childhood perhaps offers an insight into what is going on in the UK right now: the tragic incident on Hart Road in Southport where three young girls were murdered was the ring-pull moment that has unleashed the bottled-up frustration of disaffected people around the country – a frustration which has been deliberately and openly stirred up through divisive rhetoric over many years.  

Cultural Christians are more unsympathetic to asylum-seekers than any other group of immigrants.

It is not only the rioters who are to blame for this wave of violence. We must also hold accountable those who have been shaking the can. Those who have stirred up anti-immigration sentiment for personal gain, spreading lies and misinformation. Those who have tried to win votes and build careers and influence or grab headlines by scapegoating those who have lost everything and sought sanctuary in the UK. Those who have not questioned as we have drained resources out of schools, cut youth services and failed to provide affordable housing or realistic job prospects. Those who have assimilated a hostility towards asylum-seekers.  

Sadly, the can has also been shaken by some who call themselves Christians. Recent protesters in London have been heard using anti-Islamic rhetoric alongside their chants that “Christ is King”. A small number of Christian influencers have consistently contributed to the anti-immigration stance and undermined the importance of diversity and multiculturalism.  Data from the Faith and Religion thinktank Theos reveals that cultural Christians are more unsympathetic to asylum-seekers than any other group of immigrants. This despite all the incredible amount the church in the UK has done to lead the way in the welcome of new arrivals from Hong Kong, Afghanistan, Syria and Ukraine.  More poignantly, the hostility stands in stark contrast to the Christian virtue of hospitality that permeates every book of the Bible, and every moment of Jesus’ life and teaching.  

Racism is unacceptable, and there is a part for all of us to play in ensuring that this message is heard loud and clear. For a start we can refuse to turn a blind eye and pretend it is nothing to do with us. We can challenge anti-immigrant rhetoric.  We can counter misinformation with truth. We can choose to deescalate violence and defend those who have become targets and clamp down on those who stir up hate. We can show support for all those who are seeking to keep the peace, and we can choose to foster a more inclusive, generous and compassionate society every day with our words and actions.  

Article
Community
Culture
Football
Idolatry
Sport
5 min read

The decade that defined sport 

What the sports stars of today owe to the eighties.

Simon is Bishop of Tonbridge in the Diocese of Rochester. He writes regularly round social, cultural and political issues.

Maradona runs in celebration, holding a hand aloft as an England player sits dejected on the ground.
Maradona celebrates, 1986 World Cup.
Dani Yako via Wikimedia Commons

If the 1980s were your formative years as a sports fan, you will carry many images with you even today.  Dennis Taylor potting the last black after midnight to beat Steve Davis.  Barry McGuigan defeating Eusebio Pedrosa in the ring at Loftus Road.  The races between Coe and Ovett at the Moscow Olympics.  The tie break between Borg and McEnroe.  Botham’s Ashes.  Diego Maradona versus England at the Mexico World Cup.   

You will undoubtedly have other memories, though these will have been controlled by a limited number of broadcast editors.  I clearly recall watching Viv Richards’ astonishing century in one cricket World Cup final against hosts England being regularly interrupted on BBC1’s Grandstand with coverage of a routine horse race meeting.  The introduction of the less fusty World of Sport on ITV was a route in for some sports that faced an implicit class bias, but it was all still far removed from the 24/7 reverencing of sport today. 

The eighties was an era of transition as sport began to gain a place in our cultural consciousness.  It was also a decade in which the relationship between sport and politics became cemented on paths we still walk.  In Everybody Wants To Rule The World, academic and journalist Roger Domeneghetti has written an entertaining and informative book subtitled ‘Britain, Sport and the 1980s’. 

In our branding of the twenties as the decade of polarisation, we forget how deeply divided Britain was in the eighties.  Recent commentary on the fortieth anniversary of the miners’ strike has been a reminder of this and how violent public life proved.  Football hooliganism was pervasive and after a riot at a Luton Town – Millwall game in 1985, Margaret Thatcher asked of football officials: ‘what are you going to do about it?’.  In a pithy and telling response, the FA secretary Ted Croker said: ‘Not our hooligans, Prime Minister, but yours.  The product of your society’.  Perhaps more than any other exchange, it symbolised the braiding of sport and politics, threads that endure to this day. 

The sports stars of today have become surrogate saints, held up as an inspiration for what can be achieved and frequently employed as motivational speakers.

The argument that sport and politics don’t mix has a familiar ring for people who live with the tired old trope that religion and politics don’t either, as if our experience of culture and values are sealed off from each other.  Sporting boycotts in the 1980s - from Olympics to apartheid South Africa – placed athletes in the unavoidable position of having to make decisions about participation that would reflect on their values and could affect their careers; positioning that other people were spared.  These were an early taste of the moral standing afforded to sportsmen and women today; a status that somehow asks more of them, perhaps because other professions have become so tarnished and mistrusted. 

Domeneghetti’s book is also a sobering reminder of how ugly and careless much of our shared life was in the eighties.  The Bradford City fire and Hillsborough disaster were awful losses that showed the low priority of health and safety and the culture of institutional cover up that continues to blight the nation.  The author locates these failings in the wider context of disasters like Kings Cross, Piper Alpha and the Marchioness boat as part of his bid to write a social history of sport. 

Yet in a sense, Domeneghetti chose arbitrary parameters.  Football in particular was on the cusp of a revolution with the introduction of the Premier League in 1992.  Cultural sympathy for the game was about to change with the writings of Nick Hornby in Fever Pitch and Pete Davies in All Played Out.  The nasty face of football was to be transformed into a highly marketable model. 

The ugliness of the era is laid bare in the prolific and casual racism, sexism and homophobia that coursed through every sport.  The Windrush’s second generation broke through in the 1980s, notably in football, but was met with staggering levels of prejudice.  Anyone tempted to think this has now been eradicated hasn’t spent any real time at a football ground or on social media.  Women’s sport had virtually no profile in the eighties outside of tennis and athletics and as recently as 1978, Lord Denning had ruled that an eleven-year-old girl should not be allowed to play competitive football against boys the same age even though she merited a place in her team.  Meanwhile, stars like Justin Fashanu, Martina Navratilova and John Curry were targeted for their sexual orientation.  It remains hard for present day athletes to identify as gay, despite the rhetoric of acceptance.  Sport then, as now, held up an unerring mirror to our faces. 

The sports stars of today have become surrogate saints, held up as an inspiration for what can be achieved and frequently employed as motivational speakers.  But there is the gloss of a hyper-individualistic, neo-liberal culture.  Sports stars succeed because of a combination of innate gifting (which cannot simply be replicated) and material advantage (too many Olympic medals are still awarded to wealthy and advantaged Britons). I won because I wanted it more is a dishonest assessment of sporting success in the UK and in this way also holds up a mirror to other walks of life.   

The powerful personal branding of today’s athletes in many ways have their origin in the 1980s and the way the likes of Ian Botham, Carl Lewis and John McEnroe transcended their sports.  The cult of the conquering superstar is a smart diversion from the reality that money usually wins.  Just look at the Premier League table.