Protesters who lit the flame under apartheid

Brendan Gallagher looks back on the 1969/70 Springbok tour to England and the huge opposition it generated

SPORT's important role in the anti-apartheid movement and the eventual “emancipation” of South Africa is unquestioned but sometimes it needs the distance of decades to absorb it all and put properly in perspective.

The Springboks tour of Britain and Ireland in 1969-70 is a case in point. Journalism as we know is the first draft of history and it was very newsworthy at the time but as the decades pass it appears much more fundamental and significant to the cause. The protesters, mostly but not exclusively young, were much derided by the establishment at the time, can view their participation as a badge of honour, they were on the right side of history and would not be cowed.

As for rugby it was the moment our sport's almost unthinking support of the Springboks and the regime, they de facto represented was fully exposed… and that caused a deal of soul searching. If not the beginning of the end – old loyalties proved hard to break – it sowed the seed of doubt and was certainly the end of the beginning.

The tour is remembered mostly for the constant demonstrations at all 25 matches, many led by Peter Hain while even future Prime Minister Gordon Brown, then a student at Edinburgh University got involved organising the protesters when the tour moved to Scotland.

To British sensibilities the huge and constant police presence and occasional charges, smoke bombs, burning hay bales, barbed wire, angry placards and acts of petty vandalism were all very disturbing although of course it – and infinitely worsehad been commonplace in South Africa for decades. Some of the scenes, especially at the Swansea game when over

100 people were injured including 11 policemen, were a massive jolt to the system for many whose rose-tinted view of South Africathe sunkissed garden of the old Empirewas so very at odds with the grim reality.

It was the moment when the youth of Britain lost patience even if their parents remained in denial, a moment when sport and politics collided in tumultuous fashion. Middle England, many remembering South Africa as staunch wartime allies, cried foul but times were changing. It would be nearly 23 years before the Boks would be allowed to Britain again.

To set the scene a little, there had been plenty going on in the years leading up to 1969 and the pressure was cranking up against South Africa and the Broederbond overlords who ran the country South Africa had their invitation to the 1964 Olympics revoked when their Olympic Association (SANROC) declined to publically oppose their government's polices. Then four years later, after an internal IOC report that surprisingly – disgracefully – suggested that progress was being made, – SANROC was told they could compete if they agreed to fielding a multi racial South African squad at Munich in 1972. Kicking the can down the road I believe is the expression

While SANROC were mulling that over, the black African nations made it quite clear that they would be withdrawing from the Olympics if South Africa were allowed to compete under those terms and South Africa were again excluded from the Olympic Games

Meanwhile in 1968 there had been the D'Oliveira affair whereby Basil D'Oliveira a cape-coloured cricketer who moved to England, was prevented touring with the MCC on account of his colour despite assurances from the South African government in 1967 that coloured players from all visiting sports teams would always be permitted to play. The MCC therefore declined to tour.

Meanwhile in February 1969, completely tone deaf to international sensibilities, South Africa staged the South African Open Games – a mini-Olympicsa white only Games to which 126 white overseas athletes were also invited.

So by the time the mighty Springboks landed in England in 1969 the anti-apartheid protesters were spoiling for a fight and the media – political and sporting – was on high alert. Despite that however Hain's priority was actually initially getting the planned 1970 South African cricket tour of England cancelled, the impact of which would be massive as it could directly be related to the D'Oliveira affair. Further punishment and ongoing condemnations for such an obscenity. By making life extremely uncomfortable for South Africa's rugby players, a strong message could be sent to the cricket authorities. In that respect their actions were a glorious if unlikely success. The 1970 tour was also cancelled

The disruption of the rugby tour, however, rapped out its own message, the humbling of the mighty Boks which would cause consternation back in South Africa. Their adoring fans would question everything about the tour including the protests. What was all that about?

Prior to the 1969-70 tour, South Africa were at the height of their considerable powers. In 1967 they beat France 2-1 in a home series with one match drawn while in 1968 of course they disposed of the British and Irish Lions 3-0, again with one game drawn before winning a two-Test series in France. In the summer of 1969, they dismantled Australia 4-0 in a one-sided home series so they arrived in Britain on the back of nine wins and two draws in their last 11 Tests spread over three years. The world's best team? Almost certainly.

During the British and Irish tour however they failed to register a win in four Tests. Two defeats – Scotland and Englandand draws against Wales and Ireland. And there were defeats against Oxford University, Newport and Gwent. The whole experience had badly spooked them. Yet back on home ground, shielded from criticism, normal service was immediately resumed, powering their way to an impressive 3-1 series win over a useful New Zealand side in 1970. And in 1971 they went undefeated with a 3-0 series win in Australia and a home series win over the French.

The expectation in South Africa had been of a Grand Slam tour of Britain and Ireland and that was the mood at a farewell function at the Casa Mia Hotel in Johannesburg… until the tour vice-captain, Tom Bedford, a liberal minded former Rhodes scholar at Oxford was invited to addresses the diners.

“It is wonderful that we have so many people here tonight who believe we will succeed on this tour. We have heard how well we are going to do in Britain and how we shall overcome. But I wonder if we will. Many of you understand the obstacles of a long overseas tour, but this tour will be even tougher. Quite apart from the challenge of playing in the British winter, I am sure no Springbok squad has ever faced the scale of demonstrations that lie ahead for us. I do not know what is going to happen when we arrive but, if we do not achieve the wonderful results that you all anticipate, please remember there may very well have been unusual circumstances.”

Prophetic words from Bedford, who became lifelong opponent of apartheid after the tour. He fought and argued from within and in 1987 was one of the sporting, cultural and political figures who met with the banned ANC leaders at the Dakar Conference which was to finally start meaningful dialogue. Even as a renowned former Boks captain Bedford felt the heat and displeasure of the South African government although two years later that same government felt compelled to open talks with Nelson Mandela about his eventual release

“I knew we were in for a rough time on tour but I had no idea how well organised it would be,” recalled Bedford “We had never had to cope with these sorts of demonstrations in our own country or in sport so I didn't think it was going to be an easy tour. I felt strongly that if these 30 men from the white South African community could go and see how things were elsewhere they may go back and say ‘that's how things should be back home'

Being rugby, the ‘Protest tour' veered from the deadly serious to the farcical and even comic. Before the England Test one protester in a flat cap, cool as you like, stepped onto the South Africa team bus at their hotel which was slowly filling up with players and drove it away. The rogue driver was eventually overpowered by players but not before the bus has crashed into six vehicles.

Another time, learning that the South Africa team were staying at the Angel Hotel in Cardiff before the Wales game, a large gang of protesters, drink having been taken, laid siege to the hotel during the Friday night making as much noise as possible with their singing, chants and claxons. At about 3am an official from the WRU came out and pleaded with themthe Wales team were also staying there and couldn't sleep. If you wanted to help Wales beat the Springboks please go away. Now!

The cat and mouse between police and protesters looking to stage pitch invasions and sitdowns became a spectator sport in itself. Initially, although police officers paraded in numbers never seen again in the UK until the miners' strikes of the 1980s, they lined up in the traditional British fashion looking into the field of play. Anything else had hitherto been considered too confrontational. This proved hopeless as little pockets of supporters blindsided them and broke through at will so then, for possibly the first time in Britain at a sporting event, the police were commanded to turn around and look into the crowd.

“There had been plenty going on in the years leading up to 1969 and the pressure on SA”

Then the tactics started really evolving. At a given signal or time a small group of protesters would break through at a prearranged area of the pitch and in the panic of the moment policemen from all around the pitch would turn and give chase, leaving larger holes in their cordon though which second waiting groups of protesters would pour through.

But then the police got cute. A small hit squad of fit uniformed policemen, especially selected from the strong police rugby teams of the erastarted wearing rugby boots and roamed the touchline while those in the cordon were ordered to remain in their positions if their defences were penetrated. When the breach came only the hit squad would give chase and, as a number of commentators noted, some of the best tackles of the season were brought off by flying British bobbies.

The protesters got up to all sorts. Smuggling their way into the Boks hotel and pouring fast setting glue into the locks of bedroom doors was one favourite ruse while at various venues they would happily lie in front of the Boks team bus as it tried to pull out. They had also picked up on the old Special Forces trick of pouring sugar into the petrol tanks of vehiclesteam busesto disable them. Amusingly one group of thwarted protesters asked for their confiscated sugar back after the Boks had safely departed for their game. Smoke bombs, flares, tick tacks and broken glass thrown onto the pitch. The protesters tried everything. There were even unconfirmed reports of two sticks of gelignite being found under the West Stand at Twickenham

Before their opening game, against Oxford University, they were staying just outside Bournemouth and only had the game's venueTwickenhamconfirmed on the day of the match. At one stage it was going to be behind a protective Army cauldron at the Services ground at Aldershot but that was not a good look and was ruled out at government level. As you can imagine none of this was particularly conducive to them ever producing their best form.

Every game featured a protest of some sort and got thoroughly nasty and serious on a number of occasions. It got thoroughly ugly at St Helen's when they played Swansea, at Welford Road for the Midlands match and on a couple of occasions at Twickenham, particularly for the London Counties game. Bishop David Sheppard, the former England cricket captain, joined over 100 MPs to protest before the England game, Wales flanker John Taylor spelled out in print why he would not play against them and Middlesex's Black flanker Keith McIntyre insisted he was too busy to play them.

And the South Africa players? The generous, and probably correct, view is that most were simply sportsmen, old style rugbyheads, caught up in something they didn't fully understand. In 1969 the potential and need for ‘mere' sportsmen to be the lightning rod of societal change wasn't fully appreciated. Britain at the time was South Africa's biggest trading partner and the links between the two countries were incredibly close. If there were major issues to be faced it was surely the elected politicians and the movers and shakers in both countries who had to take the lead. Rugby was looking for guidance, but none was offered, internally or externally.

In pure rugby terms, the effect of the protests, the uncomfortable nature of the tour and the remorseless negative press initially had a significant effect. And that both encouraged the protesters and perhaps became lodged in the psyche of young Springboks and their supporters which was became a factor much further down the line.

In the medium term however it was something of a Pyrrhic victory for the protesters. Like a massive oil tanker slowing and trying to turn, the Springbok behemoth seemed to roll on regardless. The protests caused many other sports to reassess their attitudes to South Africa, but rugby dug its heels in. Despite being persona non grata in the sporting world generally the incoming rugby tours to South Africa continued apace. France (71 and 75 ) the Lions (1974 and 1980), New Zealand (1976) Ireland (81), England (1972 and 84), New Zealand Cavaliers (1986) and various composite South American XV.

There was however a massive downturn in visits overseas where life remained very uncomfortable. Australia in 1971 and New Zealand in 1981 were their only major overseas tours thereafter until the arrival of Nelson Mandela and transformation, with the Boks being welcomed back into the fold in 1992. The protesters of 1969 -70 had lit a fire that obstinately smouldered before igniting fully and bringing about change.