There was a time when no sports were allowed to be played in Afghanistan, least of all cricket which was deemed as a game imported from Pakistan. Surprisingly, cricket soon became the only sport Afghanistan under the Taliban was allowed to play. One of the reasons why cricket forced its way out of the banned games was that the public had developed an undeniable penchant for it. Penchant might not be the right word to capture the essence of the connection that the Afghans forged with the game. In truth, there probably isn’t any word in existence adequate enough to explain what the sport brought to the people at that time. Our best bet at understanding this emotion lies in the remarkable rise of Afghanistan cricket in the face of adversities the country goes through.
But what do we mean when we refer to Afghanistan cricket? A large group of men teeming with talent and passion for the game. Yes, that would be it. A group of men. Just men. Because there is no women’s team that represents the country. The Taliban government currently ruling over Afghanistan has banned them from engaging in any kind of sports. And that’s what threatens the entire existence of cricket in the country.
A few weeks ago, several British politicians signed a letter urging the England and Wales Cricket Board (ECB) chief to boycott their scheduled game against Afghanistan in the Champions Trophy. And this is hardly the first time such a request has been made. Cricket boards including Cricket Australia (CA) and Cricket South Africa (CSA) have often called to boycott the men’s team. Human rights violations must be dealt with by sanctions and boycotts, so they say. It worked in dismantling Apartheid South Africa, it should help in dealing with the Taliban too.
Would a ban hurt the Taliban? Would it compel them to form a women’s team? Would it irreparably hurt Afghanistan cricket? Perhaps. No. Yes. It’s simple. And a few would argue otherwise. Boycotts do not yield immediate results. They take years, sometimes decades to be impactful. But for those fighting against human rights violations, this is not a bad deal. The lost time and talent as collateral damage pales when compared to what could be gained.
But the Afghanistan men’s team has achieved too much and too quickly to be discarded as collateral damage. Banning them at the point when Afghanistan cricket is nearing its peak could extinguish the hope that took so much to ignite.
This is a dilemma for the ICC. There is no absolute answer to this headscratcher; nothing seems nobler to the mind than the other. The fact that Afghanistan cricket is bigger than it ever was adds more to the governing body’s problems.
And it’s not only about those currently in the Afghanistan cricket circuit. There’s a whole generation of young fans, both boys and girls, who need to see someone playing the game to nourish their fervor—someone like them, someone who speaks what they speak, someone they can relate to. Without this, the future of Afghanistan cricket, and cricket by extension, would be more bleak.
