The Indian cricket ecosystem has for long preferred to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to Pakistan. The material incentive of an India-Pakistan contest has proved impossible to forbear but at the same time, there are also domestic political constituencies to appease.
Appearances have constantly mattered more than principles.
The public has predictably chosen to ignore it for the most part despite being sufficiently aware of being taken for a ride. There’s some routine outrage on the fringes every time there’s an announcement of this fixture, which has become an annual event now, but few seem to care in the end.
But the Pahalgam terror attack was perhaps a bridge too far for the public mood to remain dissuaded and by now it’s clear that the cricket establishment spectacularly failed at gauging how much the people cared. Normal business could no longer pass off as professional obligation no matter how hard the BCCI tried feigning it.
Barely a week after Pahalgam, Sony Sports Network stopped televising and streaming Pakistan’s premier T20 franchise competition Pakistan Super League (PSL). It was an indication of where the public sentiment lay post the abhorrent attack in which 26 civilians were gunned down for their religious identity as their loved ones were made to stand and watch. The sentiment had only amplified with Operation Sindoor and the cross-border military hostilities that followed over the next few days.
Now, those in charge of running cricket in India do not give the most flattering account of their wisdom but it’s still highly unlikely that they missed to read the mood on the street at the time. Holding an India-Pakistan game at the Asia Cup therefore merely in a few months’ time has to have felt abundantly insensitive and crass to everyone involved in decision-making. They just counted on – like they always do – the fleeting nature of public mood that would have been consumed by a new set of headlines by then.
But that faith turned out to be slightly misplaced. The public anger actually kept intensifying as the fixture approached closer. And this time, even the usually pliant voices had turned hostile. Deflecting the burden of the decision to play Pakistan on the BCCI too was no longer the reliable failsafe as people are clearer than ever in their understanding of the decision-making hierarchy in this matter.
The blame squarely lay with the government that may not have actively encouraged for the game to go on but didn’t voice any clear objection either. It’s not for nothing that the BCCI and the BJP have grown more and more impossible to tell apart ever since the latter’s takeover of the former in 2019. The interests of the two greatly align in off-field matters. The game must go on, for it feeds one mouth too many in the cricket ecosystem, but the political fallout too needs to be mitigated carefully.
It’s quite ludicrous to think that the best possible compromise they could come up with to play the game while pretending they do not want to was asking the Indian players to not shake hands with their Pakistani counterparts. It’s still not clear at what level of the decision-making ladder this call was taken – was it the government, was it the board, or was it the team management and player themselves?
According to Indian captain Suryakumar Yadav at least, it was a collective call and everyone involved was on the same page. At the toss itself, there was no customary handshake between the two captains. It has since been reported that the match referee, Andy Pycroft, had informed the Pakistan captain of the same moments before the toss. But it’s the urgency with which Surya and Shivam Dube sprinted off the field as soon as the former hit the winning runs that left Pakistan players somewhat befuddled.
It’s very clear that they weren’t formally informed of India’s unwillingness to follow the standard post-match courtesies. It showed in how they’d assembled in the playing area near the Indian dugout anticipating their opponents to walk out and exchange the common sweet-nothings. But Indians instead took off in the other direction, entered the change room, and not-so-subtly shut the door on their opponents’ faces.
It wouldn’t have in any way hurt India’s position had the team management communicated with Pakistan beforehand that the ceremonial handshakes are to be avoided. Leaving them looking clueless in the middle of an embarrassing impasse was entirely avoidable. But perhaps humiliation was part of the message. Simply making a silent statement wasn’t enough. It was important to create a moment of spectacle out of it, which the social media would then spin as a major diplomatic triumph.
It’s not like there’s no precedent in the sporting world for India’s exercise of political signalling. Only very recently, Ukrainian tennis players have refused to shake hands with Aryna Sabalenka and Victoria Azarenka of Belarus – an ally of Russia in its hostilities and aggression against Ukraine.
But the one critical difference is these players faced each other because they reached far enough in the competition and their faceoff was purely incidental. The matchup wasn’t staged by clearly gaming the draws and putting the players in the same pot, the way it’s being done in cricket with India and Pakistan tournament after tournament.
Since 2018, the Asia Cup format has been designed in a way that guarantees at least two India-Pakistan fixtures with the potential for a third. The strongest way to register a protest on BCCI’s part would’ve been to insist on being placed in the other group and then only face Pakistan if it comes to it in the advanced phase of the tournament.
To then not offer a handshake looks more credible and principled since you’re now playing a game you have strong reservations about only because you must. It would have sent an even stronger message had the Indian contingent gone on with the handshake routine while actively ignoring Faheem Ashraf and Abrar Ahmed – the two Pakistani players who’d made truly distasteful, tone-deaf and religiously loaded comments during the conflict.
But that takes more moral fortitude than hollow attempts at invisibilising the opposition to manage public opinion back home. On cue, the Indian players starting from the captain were also lined up to dedicate the win to the victims of Pahalgam and the armed forces. The system couldn’t have made its priorities any clearer – churn out money for the broadcast partners you’ve sold rights to at an inflated price while low-effort patriotic signalling softens the blow for domestic constituencies.
But managing domestic constituencies isn’t a domain India alone prioritises. Pakistan follows the same playbook, as their political ecosystem too is inextricably coiled with cricket administration. Mohsin Naqvi, an army appointee who heads the Pakistan Cricket Board and the Asian Cricket Council, presently also occupies a chair in the Pakistan government that’s equivalent to that of Amit Shah in India. A pyrrhic show of muscle therefore is just as critical to him and his cronies.
Being painfully aware of their little capacity to corner India or BCCI in any meaningful way, Naqvi’s PCB trained their aim at the match referee instead. Pycroft was nothing more than an unwilling observer to an ugly show of diplomatic one-upmanship being played out in his yard for some reason. No rule in the playing manual allows him to take any punitive action against a team refusing to follow something that’s only a convention and not a law.
PCB demanded Pycroft be sidelined from their following game against the UAE and even threatened to stage a walkout should their demand not be paid heed to. PCB reportedly also raised their grievances over Pycroft not penalising the political nature of Suryakumar Yadav’s comments made in the post-match media interaction.
It’s slightly tempting to see this as another instance of India being afforded special treatment by the game’s governing body that has in past sanctioned the likes of Moeen Ali and Usman Khawaja for raising their voice for the Palestinian cause.
The fundamental difference that’s being overlooked while forwarding this argument is Khawaja and Ali had carried their messaging on the field, which is strictly prohibited without securing prior approval. But ICC’s jurisdiction does not extend to players voicing their politics in press interactions or on their private social media handles.
The biggest example of ICC diligently applying this rule with no regard for the size and stature of the individual is M.S. Dhoni being barred from carrying a military insignia on his wicketkeeping gloves during the 2019 World Cup.
On the other hand, Pakistan’s Mohammad Rizwan during the 2023 World Cup had chosen to dedicate his team’s win over Sri Lanka to the people of Gaza suffering unspeakable atrocities. Afghanistan’s Ibrahim Zadran at the same World Cup had highlighted the plight of Afghan refugees facing deportation by the Pakistani state. Neither of those things was reprimanded as – like the Indian players have done here – they were not carried on the field of play.
PCB and Naqvi’s posturing therefore stood on loose grounds from the very beginning and the showboating didn’t last too long as they eventually agreed to play the match after an hour’s delay. As a consolation prize, they shot and released a video of their officials privately interacting with – but meant to be seen as admonishing – Pycroft; implying that they’d managed to score a point.
It’s unclear at this point what PCB’s planned course of action is for the match referee during the upcoming clash with India, where their opponents’ stance on the handshake routine is unlikely to change. Will Naqvi keep on with his ostentatious ways or is he convinced his audience is satisfied with his half-hearted threats so far?
The plain truth is both India and Pakistan are bound by the force of economics that both have allowed to fester around the jingoistic flavour of this rivalry. Both want their pound of flesh while also being seen as uncompromising and principled. It’s beyond disorienting to see vapid punches being thrown in the buildup of every tournament and then former players reminiscing the nostalgia of cross-cultural hospitality in TV studios on the day of the match.
It’s amply clear by now that no side is willing to incur the cost of the principle they so vociferously preach. Frivolous point-scoring has constantly proved to be a far more rewarding alternative. Should Pakistan manage an unlikely win over India in the rest of the tournament, some form of rabble-rousing is imminent in the post-match presser. Whereas if India continues to not offer a handshake after another win, the media back home would be overly keen to label this practice the proverbial new normal.
In either case, we’d still see Wasim Akram and Ravi Shastri recounting the good ol’ days when the two teams are set to lock horns again. That bit will remain intact.