We ought not to forget

Either England return to India to play two Test matches and show the terrorists that sport is eternal and sportsmen, nay, a country cannot be bullied into submission or they stay back in England because the situation is fluid, safety is paramount and motivation is low. For most, it is a black-and-white situation. Ranged against human emotions and the futility of sport in times of danger are the symbolism of regained strength and the power of sport in times of danger.

What happened in 1984 when Mrs Gandhi was assassinated or in 2005 after the London bombings (both times a cricket tour went ahead) is irrelevant because in neither case was a specific group of people targeted. Any reassurance from security agencies can only sound hollow after what they failed to do to prevent the Mumbai attacks in the first place.

I am not so sure that terrorists are particularly impressed by a show of normalcy - it is the consolation of those who have been attacked to believe that by carrying on as before they are thumbing a nose at those who would disrupt their lives. Terrorists don’t deal in symbols, they deal in death, their own and that of as many people as they can kill. It is not as if they or their leaders sitting far away say, “Our Mumbai mission has been a failure because England and India are playing a Test match anyway.”

Sport does have the power to unite people especially in times of disaster. By the same argument, it has the power to make people forget. And therein lies the danger. We ought not to forget. We ought not to pretend that things are honky-dory when they aren’t. Also, a Test series in which the players’ hearts and minds are not involved is no good for the game.

There is something to be said for the morale-boosting effects of normalcy on the public, of course. But at what cost?

Those who have made the argument for England returning for the Tests - a surprisingly large number of Englishmen have said they should - feel they owe it to the Indian people who have suffered. This is a noble sentiment, but irrelevant in a larger sense. A nation has suffered, and the national debates cannot be sidetracked by issues of whether India should play three seamers or two. Cricket has the power to make us forget, but we ought not to forget. Those who forget their history are condemned to repeat it.

The Indian board’s fear of losing its primacy in world cricket is a real one. That is the only way to understand some of the more insensitive comments made by its vice-president, Lalit Modi. Millions of dollars are at stake, especially in the Twenty20 versions like the Champions League and the IPL, and when he says “we shouldn’t allow such attacks to disrupt our determination”, it is not difficult to read between the lines.

Depending on which side your bread is buttered you can see a resumption of the series as a way of expressing solidarity with the people of India or telling them that in their hour of need we shall continue to laugh and play as usual. Luckily, in recent years, the views of players are being sought before a cricket board makes a decision. The England and Wales Cricket Board has been bullied by the Indian board of late, but not even Modi can tell them which players to pick. If England are forced to return, and come without some of their top players, we will understand.

Only the other day an official was screaming on TV that India should not tour Pakistan because he could not conceive of the consequences “if a single hair on Tendulkar’s head” was touched. Kevin Pietersen’s hair deserves the same consideration.