The congratulatory messages and endorsements that flooded social media following the South African Federation Legends’ Banquet Gala Dinner at Athlone Stadium suggested broad support for a new chapter under newly elected president Boebie Solomons.
Yet beneath the well-wishes and celebratory photographs and joyous scenes lay a quieter, less comfortable conversation. Reservations of some sort perhaps?
There were those who felt that the event, intended to celebrate a proud legacy, was not as inclusive as it could have been. Some questioned whether certain individuals who played significant roles in the Federation’s history were deliberately overlooked. Maybe, maybe not. Yet perception often becomes reality, and in organisations built on history and principle, such perceptions rarely emerge without reason.
Of course, this brings also brings to mind the age-old proverb: “You cannot please everyone.”
The saying originates from Aesop’s fable, “The Man, the Boy and the Donkey”, where attempts to satisfy every observer ultimately leave nobody happy. More than 2,500 years later, the lesson remains as relevant as ever. Every organisation, particularly one built on history, heritage and strong personalities, will inevitably attract criticism regardless of its intentions.
Yet the concerns raised amidst the celebratory scenes of Saturday’s event deserve more than a dismissive shrug.
The very essence of the SA Fed Legends is rooted in the sacrifices of sportsmen and women who challenged apartheid’s segregated sporting structures under the famous SACOS slogan coined by the late Hassan Howa, “No Normal Sport in an Abnormal Society.” These were not simply footballers. They were individuals who stood for principle when doing so came at considerable personal cost.
Having grown up in the 1980s, I may not have experienced the full weight of apartheid’s darkest years, but I was fortunate enough to witness and learn from a generation of footballers who embodied those ideals. Men such as Edries Burton, Donny Ronnie and others did not merely talk about values such as integrity, discipline and justice. They lived them at the height of their playing careers.
Furthermore, three decades later, I was honoured to receive an invitation from Farouk Bardien, son of the late Santos co-founder Nazmie Bardien, to attend the send-off of the Western Cape Fed Legends ahead of their journey to the organisation’s national launch in Port Elizabeth, now Gqeberha, in 2014.
It was there that I was introduced to the organisation’s inaugural chairman, Burton, making it a truly special and memorable occasion that further strengthened my connection to the rich legacy of SA Fed football. Which is precisely why their apparent distance from the Fed Legends raises questions.
If the gala evening was designed to celebrate the heroes who broke down apartheid barriers through sport, why were figures of such stature seemingly absent from the proceedings? More importantly, why have individuals who were once active participants in the organisation chosen to step away?
What happened? What prompted men renowned for their principles, achievements and unwavering commitment to the anti-apartheid sporting movement to distance themselves from an organisation founded on the very values they once fought to uphold?
These are not questions intended to diminish the contributions of those who were honoured. Not at all, The recognition bestowed upon former players, administrators and activists remains richly deserved.
But history is often as much about who is missing from the room as who occupies it. Perhaps there are perfectly reasonable explanations. Perhaps relationships have changed, priorities have shifted or disagreements have emerged over time. Such developments are not uncommon in organisations with long and complex histories.
Still, one cannot help but wonder if there are palpable division?
If flowers and roses were being handed out in honour of those who paved the way, surely some of the first bouquets should have found their way into the hands of individuals whose contributions helped build the very foundation upon which the organisation stands today.
Maybe I am reading too much into it. Then again, when respected figures who once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with an organisation quietly walk away, it is usually worth asking why? The answers may reveal far more about the state of the movement than any gala dinner ever could.
