I wonder if there will soon be a separate entrance for Jewish supporters at Manchester City, or if they will be allowed in at all? The club’s new owners [Abu Dhabi Royal Family] wish the team to play exhibition matches and hold training sessions in Abu Dhabi, but it is expected that not all the players will be invited to attend. Tal Ben Haim is an Israeli national and therefore not allowed to enter the horrible little country, so it is almost certain he will be left behind. (Rod Liddle, ‘Awkward ques- tions that haunt new owners’, Sunday Times, 14 September 2008)
Introduction
As a central component in popular culture, sport and its mediated versions operate within a terrain heavily laden with symbolism and metaphor. As we have argued earlier in the book, the issue of repre- sentation remains central to any study of media sport. Mediated sport is saturated with ideas, values, images and discourses which at times refl ect, construct, naturalize, legitimize, challenge and even recon- stitute attitudes which permeate wider society. It should come as no surprise that a cultural form which has narrative and mythology at its core can also become a vehicle for what Cohen (1988) calls ‘rituals of misrecognition’. What these next three chapters examine is the extent to which mediated versions of sport play a role in the larger process of identity formations of race, ethnicity, gender and national identity.
While we focus our attention on a specifi c area in each chapter, we are aware that often these strands interact, so that at a key moment issues of race will apparently be subsumed within the larger frame- work of national identity (such as when black athletes are representing Britain), while at other times the differing fault lines which run through society are also clearly evident within a sporting context (when Celtic
play Rangers in football). However, we make the separation over the next three chapters to allow us to focus on some of the specifi c issues involved with each area.
In this chapter we look at the media’s treatment of black (using the political term here to refer to those of African, Caribbean and south- ern Asian origin) and Asian (those of Indian subcontinent descent) sports people. Later we also briefl y highlight the issue of ethnicity as it relates to sectarianism and media sport in both Scotland and Northern Ireland.
Sporting and media representations of race
Issues around media representations are fundamentally about power and status in society. A community’s or individual’s ability to feel themselves represented accurately in media discourse is in part related to assumptions about the power of the media to shape and change public opinion. In the areas of television comedy or drama this can often be about using stereotypes and stereotyping as a type of cultural shorthand for comedic or dramatic purposes.
This often reduces diffuse and complex groups into simple and straightforward characters with distinctive characteristics. Jarvie (1991:
2) notes also that discussions of issues relating to race and sport have in the past ignored the diversity and differing experiences of various ethnic groupings and also largely removed gender difference from the discussion.
In their overview of media coverage of African-American athletes in the US, Davis and Harris (1998) note how particular stereotypes of the ‘natural’ black athlete have been used to explain the apparent over- representation of black people in sports. This explanation, rather than the more materially rooted one which links it to class and deprivation, has also been echoed in work on British and North Amercian black sports people (Cashmore, 1996; Hoberman, 1997). Regester (2003) notes how early twentieth-century screen images of black athletes constructed a myth of ‘danger and desire’, while Wilson (1997) has also demonstrated how such images have also been replicated, with some variation, in the Canada experience.
Martin Polley (1998: 158), writing about the interface between race and sport in postwar Britain, argues that racism has been a large part of sporting culture in this country. He notes that racist abuse suffered by black and Asian sports people has often gone uncommented upon by the media. He argues that:
The race game 109 For black Britons, sport has remained a double-edged sword in post-war society, offering both advancement and obstacle, acceptance and crude stereotype. That many individuals have excelled must be read both as a sign of a growing tolerance – particularly when national representation is at stake – and as a sign of perceived limited opportunities in other walks of life. (Polley, 1998: 158)
There is an argument which suggests that the changing media profi le of black people in general and their centrality within the realms of mainstream popular culture has diminished or undercut negative racist stereotyping. But empirical research on black and Asian sports people, such as Burdsey’s work on Asian footballers (Burdsey, 2004), suggests there remain very real conditions of prejudice.
Jarvie and Reid (1997: 218–19) alert us to the need to be wary of applying universal theories of sport, ethnicity and racism. They argue that this ‘is not to deny different theories of race relations but to caution against their universality as ways of explaining different situations throughout the globe’. This could be extended when media coverage is added to the equation; in other words, the particular social, cultural and historical context becomes important when examining the production and consumption of media representations of sport, race and ethnicity.
Big Ron’s and other racist outbursts
. . . he is what is known in some schools as a fucking lazy thick nigger.
(Ron Atkinson, comment on French defender Marcel Desailly by ITV football pundit captured ‘off-air’ after a Champions League match between Chelsea and Monaco, April 2004)
The former Manchester United manager Ron Atkinson’s racist out- burst in 2004, which went beyond the kind of faux pas commonly delivered by television football pundits, was an exceptional instance of racism that betrayed the more familiar social and regulatory checks on extreme prejudice and racism in the media. Atkinson’s comments were not heard in the UK where the ITV Champions League broad- cast had ended but was heard across Middle Eastern channels where the television feed continued. The global reach of televised sport on this occasion tripped up a very parochial sports broadcaster passing a very personal judgement (or so he thought) on a black interna- tional football star. Atkinson’s media career was stopped in its tracks.
He left ITV and withdrew from writing his football analysis for the Guardian newspaper.
It had ended his reign as the UK’s most prominent sports media pundit. He was clearly sorry for the remark – at least, sorry he had been caught making it. His denial of being racist was to be expected and he pointed to the fact that as a manager in the 1970s and 1980s he had been in charge of England’s emerging black talent. As he remarked: ‘I have worked with more black players, I would think, than any other manager in the country and I bet none of them has ever heard me say it to them’ (BBCi, 2004). One thing the episode reveals, among many things, is that casual racist remarks remain com- monplace in everyday circles, in football as elsewhere. The remarks may not be delivered with deep malice or with political intent, but nevertheless hint at continued social divisiveness along the cleavages of race and ethnicity and resistance to the multiculturalist ambitions of postwar Britain.
One response to the Atkinson case would be that to eradicate the incipient racism that creeps into casual conversation in the context of sport there should be a more diverse ethnic mix of sports broadcasters.
Throughout the 1990s it could still be argued that there was an almost complete absence of black and Asian sports presenters and commen- tators working within the mainstream. It has not been until the early 2000s that this situation has begun to be remedied in terms of black pundits and summarizers, although the core roles of lead commentary and studio anchor noticeably remain the province of white middle- class broadcasters.
Whannel (2002) notes how former professional footballer Garth Crooks represents the ‘embodiment of the dream of liberal assimila- tion’ – articulate and middle-class in style and tone and a polished media performer – but even after many years with the BBC he has not advanced beyond a minor role as interviewer. There are exceptions such as ex-athlete and Olympic gold medalist Colin Jackson who has been preened for the screen, but it does seem a strange state of affairs when the visibility and profi le of black sports people within Britain has been extremely high since the mid-1990s.
Other former black sports stars, such as Ian Wright, have become pundits and wider media celebrities – famed for their ‘street’ attitude and, much like Jackson who appeared on the BBC TV genealogy series Who Do You Think You Are?, take pride in their Afro-Caribbean ancestry. Gilroy (1993) has noted the increased visibility of black and ethnic ‘cool’ in Western popular cultures, but he suggests this doesn’t
The race game 111 mean that racism or other forms of political and economic discrimina- tion have disappeared or been eradicated.
What is clear is that, while the range of media images associated with black and Asian sports men and women has expanded, and is often more positive than it may have been previously, this is not necessarily an indication of a less racist and more tolerant society. Much like the Atkinson comment, the complexities and contradictions of the multi- ple identities people have are often brought into focus only in specifi c contexts. Thus it is not uncommon at football matches for fans to abuse a black or Asian player on the opposing team in a racist manner, while praising a black or Asian player who is playing for their team.
A similar scenario occurred in February 2008 involving the British Formula 1 racing driver Lewis Hamilton who was subjected to racist abuse by a section of Spanish fans during the pre-season testing of cars in Barcelona. Hamilton had been engaged in both a professional and personal battle with former Spanish teammate Fernando Alonso in the driver’s championship the previous year. The spat had clearly rankled some of the Spanish fans of Alonso, but the racist taunts of ‘puto negro’ (fucking black) and ‘negro de mierda’ (black shit) reported in the Spanish sports newspaper Marca – including a much-publicized troupe of fans with blackened faces and afro wigs – showed that in the global age of sport national rivalry brings to the fore quite entrenched racist cultural beliefs. The FIA’s response to Hamilton’s abuse was lacklustre. According to the Guardian sportswriter Richard Williams the FIA appeared to miss the point:
Hamilton is known as formula one’s fi rst black driver, although he is actually of mixed race, with a black father of Caribbean parentage and a white English mother. His youth, intelligence and good looks make him the best thing to happen to motor racing since Ayrton Senna left the scene. Demographically speaking, he is a marketing man’s dream in an international sport rapidly conquering distant territories. So, whatever its own private opinion on racial issues, you would think that it might have been in the governing body’s own interest to offer him the best possible protection and to infl ict the sternest possible punishment on those by whom he is threatened in such a rebarbative manner. But no.
(Williams, 2008)
Similar outpourings of abuse had fallen upon English black football- ers during an international match against Spain at the Bernebeu in 2005. In that instance the European governing body UEFA were
more proactive in their stance against racism and ultimately fi ned the Spanish FA £44,750. Small change in the world of football perhaps, but it sent out a signal that racism is not tolerated in the sporting arena.
Unfortunately this does not mean such racist chants go away.
September 2008, for example, saw the English FA make a complaint to FIFA about racist chants directed at England’s Emile Heskey during a World Cup qualifying game in Croatia.
Great white hope: representations of Amir Khan and the discourse of Britishness
Not that I know much about the sport of boxing but I would be tempted to say that travesty was fi xed! Did you hear the tune that was playing whilst Khan walked into the arena? Only Land of Hope and Glory. For Fuck Sake! After the terrorist outrage committed by Khan’s Pakistani Muslim brothers, I call that taking the bloody piss and rubbing our faces in it! (Quote from a person calling themselves Brentwood Racist, Stormfront.org, 2005)
The bombings and attempted bombings of London in July 2005 prompted an outpouring of commentary and debate on the nature of Britishness and the meaning of multiculturalism. The attacks not only brought disruption, fear and paranoia among London’s popula- tion, but also instigated a crisis in the majority (white) population’s understanding, and perhaps tolerance, of immigrant communities from Southern Asia and other ethnic minority communities. In what follows we analyse one instance of this crisis over ethnicity and national identity taking our cue from the realm of sport, in particular the media coverage of the British boxer Amir Khan.
Khan rose to national fame during the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens. Trailblazing his way to the Olympic lightweight fi nal Khan gained recognition for being the only British boxer to qualify for Athens 2004. By sensationally fi ghting his way to the silver medal at the relatively young age of seventeen Khan secured wide media expo- sure in September 2004 and received a hero’s welcome on returning to the UK when his home town of Bolton in North West England held a civic reception in his honour. Fast forward to 9 July 2005, two days after the London bombings, and Khan fought his fi rst professional bout. In the short interim period between the bombings and the fi ght, the Metropolitan Police had announced that the four London bombers were British citizens of Pakistani origin. As a second-generation
The race game 113 British teenager of Pakistani origin, the context of Kahn’s fi ght took on new signifi cance. The media coverage of the fi ght fused discourses of a rising sport protégé and celebrity with the language of nation- hood, ethnicity and patriotism. In such instances the media coverage of sport frequently problematizes the construction of nationhood.
In many ways Khan’s story of local boy made good followed famil- iar narratives of sporting success that the media churn out with regular- ity. But what made his rise to fame of interest were the complexities of his national identity and ethnic origin and the manner in which his pro- fessional debut coincided with a specifi c conjuncture in the history of ethnic minorities in the UK, pulled into crisis by the events of 7 July.
Khan represents an incredibly complex fi gure in British contempo- rary popular culture. The media coverage of his fi rst professional fi ght was delivered in the context of the London bombings and the wider crisis in the ideology of multiculturalism that exists in the shadow cast by such horrifi c events. The events in 2005 caused fi ssures between perceptions of Britishness (and more specifi cally Englishness) and the inclusiveness of various ethnic minorities in the UK’s wider civil society. Reports of increased racial confrontations and attacks up and down the UK, the introduction of expedient legislative measures to tighten up national security and immigration combined with wider public debates on British citizenship and its conduit responsibilities.
Khan’s reaction to this crisis – and of the media coverage of his com- ments and boxing display – represented something of an enforced public display of Britishness (and perhaps, northern working-class Englishness). He made several public statements affi rming his British Muslim identity and his family and entourage followed suit with Union Jacks stitched together with the fl ag of Pakistan. It all seemed like an immediate antidote to the derailing of any confi dence in the concept of multiculturalism and the multiculturalist ideal. In many respects, Khan’s emerging career in boxing had come at a critical con- juncture in identity politics in the UK and coming from the arena of sport opened up interesting vistas from which to analyse how the play of historical events and the processes of inter-cultural exchange impact on debates of race, ethnicity and national identity (Burdsey, 2007).
British Boxing’s ‘Golden Boy’?
In a study of Latino boxer and world middleweight champion Oscar De La Hoya, Delgado (2005) provides a fascinating case study on the complexities of media narratives of boxers as sports stars. In particular,
in relation to the trajectory of Khan’s own story, Delgado unpicks the construction of national identity, focusing on the ways in which representations of De La Hoya problematize the narrative of national hero due to the tension created by two competing discourses: ethnicity and mainstream white American sport. In other words, De La Hoya’s public persona, as constructed by the mainstream US media, has been constructed in a way that suppresses his Latino and Mexican roots in favour of how he has become the ‘model professional’, assimilated into some perceived notion of what an all-American sports star should be.
As Delgado notes, this view of the boxer contrasts with the media that addresses a Latino audience:
Despite his roots and his success both in and out of the ring, De La Hoya occupies an interesting position as a subject constructed by and refl ected in both the sports and entertainment media as well as the Latino com- munity. (Delgado, 2005: 199)
As a successful multi-millionaire boxer – with all the luxurious trap- pings – De La Hoya is ‘located at the crossroads between ethnic and cultural pride and assimilation’ (Delgado, 2005: 199). Does Khan’s rise to prominence present a similar divergent crossroads in identity politics? Or are media representations of Khan settled in his self- proclaimed dual identity of British Muslim?
Khan’s initial moment of fame and notoriety came in September 2004 during the summer Olympics in Athens. As each stage of the tournament passed, the BBC’s focus on the seventeen-year-old intensi- fi ed as one by one he carved out convincing victories against far more experienced opposition. Khan did not appear on the scene without his own reputation. He had become the World Junior Champion earlier that year and as Britain’s only boxing entry into the Games carried the medal hopes of a nation with a long history of success in amateur boxing.
Media attention on Khan grew exponentially with each round leading to extensive coverage before, during and after the Olympic semi-fi nal.
His new success prompted BBC correspondent Gary Richardson to fi nd out more about the ‘golden boy’ from Bolton, specifi cally focusing on the role of his family in supporting his sporting achievement.
Although there is nothing unusual in television’s search for a wider cast of characters to help embroider the narrative of sports stars, the BBC’s story behind the story took a deliberate approach to reveal Khan’s father’s British patriotism for his adopted nation. Mr Khan wore a Union Jack waistcoat, an important nationalistic motif, in a