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| June 26, 2000 | ||
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| CRICKET Outlaw By Sharda Ugra in Cape Town
The truth, according to Cronje, now paints him as an innocent being lured further and further into a world of easy money in the subcontinent, where he said the "level of temptation placed in front of a cricketer" cannot be exaggerated. Apart from the moral posturing, what Cronje did do was establish yet another link between the much accused former India captain Mohammed Azharuddin and the forces of illegal betting. Naming names for the first time, Cronje was hardly surprising, but surprisingly specific. During a Test in Kanpur in 1996, Azharuddin introduced him to one Mukesh Gupta and left the room. For a first-time acquaintance, Gupta got straight to the point, offering Cronje money to lose the Test and following that with an offer to throw the now infamous Mohinder Amarnath benefit match. Barring that one mention, Azharuddin plays no further role in Cronje's testimony. But his friend Gupta followed the South Africans on the tour. He also turned up in South Africa during the middle of the southern summer, offering cash for information. Cronje's statement about Azharuddin is deliberately open-ended -- he establishes the link but doesn't quite indict the Indian. The BCCI, of course, would rather nothing happened at all. It believes its little patch of territory is the Garden of Eden where match-fixing does not exist and none of the apples are rotten. The bookies may come from India, the money may come from India, even the punters may mostly come from India. But the crooks are imported. Predictably, BCCI boss A.C. Muthiah took cover under the CBI investigation, saying, "I've no doubt they will get to the bottom of the matter." ICC chief Jagmohan Dalmiya didn't think a suspension would be fair either on the basis of "somebody's allegation", leaving it to Union Sports Minister S.S. Dhindsa to say he thought Azhar should quit the team till he is cleared. A betting man would tell you the odds on any action being taken are slim.
Cronje however did not stop at naming Gupta, adding three more bookies to cricket's Most Wanted list -- "Sunil", the famous "Mr John" and one "Marlin Aronstam". Like the protagonists of the Kurosawa classic Rashomon, what Cronje did was attempt to tell his version of the truth in the hope of getting amnesty from criminal prosecution. He went before TV cameras to announce that he had only put his hand in the till. Not robbed the bank. Nobody buys that anymore. Outside the courthouse a man approached a lawyer to ask, "Can I sue these guys for the trauma and heartache they have caused me?" Rumours swirled about Cape Town the day before that the traumatised Cronje was going to blow the whole boat out of the water. "I know what he is doing," muttered an advocate once Cronje finished, "He's said exactly what Ali Bacher has said, just added his name to the same ideas, named much the same people, like Salim Malik who can't play anymore, and added on all that bit about educating and protecting young players." It is hardly surprising Cronje took this stance: during his career he was the poster boy of the United Cricket Board (UCB). Even now in the deepest public disgrace possible, Cronje had succeeded in becoming a symbol: the Christian cricketer who had by his confessions saved world cricket. Bacher, a master of spin, was not present during Cronje's deposition, but he would have approved. The two go back a very long way. Nine years ago, Bacher sat triumphant in a hotel room in Dubai talking to an Indian journalist about his dreams for South African cricket. Organiser of the notorious rebel tours of the 1980s, fund-manager of apartheid's "blood money", Bacher had just successfully shepherded South Africa's readmission into international cricket. He talked of the newly formed UCB of South Africa and its development programme and the resurgence of pride in South African cricket. He talked of a black man, Walter Masomolo from Soweto, who was being fast-tracked through to the system to become the first black fast bowler for South Africa and a white man called Jonty Rhodes who had mercury in his veins and defied gravity. And finally he talked about a rising Afrikaaner star, who at 21 was the leader of his provincial side, a young man with a cricketing mind so sharp it could cut through glass. "They are already talking about him as a future captain of South Africa. He is called Hansie Cronje. Remember the name." How can we now forget? If match-fixing were not such a smelling, swelling mess this could be international cricket's great Greek tragedy. The saga of a mentor and the man he made, who had it all before he threw it all away in many moments of weakness. Except that in this particular immorality play, the man, his mentor and their whole tribe, have season after season perpetuated a fraud upon their sport and their audience. As a result, nothing quite as dignified as drama has taken place in Cape Town. In a circular room panelled with wooden shelves and storybooks for children, under a high-domed ceiling, a can of worms has been slowly prised open and the world has come to watch. A standing-room-only crowd plays hushed audience in the central reading room of the Centre for the Book as retired judge Edwin "Sharkie" King puts cricket in the witness box. His interim report will be released only by the end of June but the verdict is already out: cricket as a whole is guilty. The testimonies of South Africa's God Squad, "singing" virtually in chorus about offers made, monies bargained for and a code of silence matching the Omerta in its potency, may have nailed the lid shut on the coffin that is Cronje's cricket career. Yet, it is the subtext of the testimony of officials which is an indication that accountability for Hansiegate is being sought from a very small bunch of men and punishment targeted at the puppets, not the puppet-masters. Bacher had earlier sat in the witness chair for close to five hours and his testimony had everything -- a little diplomacy, a litle searing self-examination and earnest concern. Everything except an explanation as to why he and other officials kept turning away from repeated tip offs about match-fixing as long as five seasons ago. In their cross examination of Bacher, government prosecutors tried to establish exactly this: Firstly, Bacher had links with an Indian bookie, who gave him more than a clue about match-fixing as early as 1994-95 and then again between 1996 and 1998. Bacher took it no further, and continued his own acquaintance with the man. Secondly, the ICC discussed the Shane Warne-Mark Waugh episode of 1994 as late as February 1999. According to Bacher's testimony, no member country in the ICC even objected to the decision by ICC president Sir Clyde Walcott and CEO David Richards to keep the matter from other cricket administrators. Bacher's defence of his lapse in accountability: "There's a viewpoint in the ICC that it should have been brought to the attention of all the administrators at that time." Thirdly, former coach Bob Woolmer said that on his return from India in 1996, he had mentioned the offer to throw the Mohinder Amarnath benefit match to Bacher. Bacher says he can't recall Woolmer mentioning this though he admits to having a "10-second" conversation with Cronje about the match much before his involvement in match-fixing became known in April this year. Bacher was asked "in view of the fact that what was going on in the cricket world ... didn't you think it was something important that you needed to find out more about?" His reply: "In hindsight, you're absolutely right." Had Woolmer told him about it, Bacher said "it would have been automatic to have informed the board about it, to have an inquiry, to inform the ICC about it and also bring it to the attention of the Indian cricket authorities". None of which he did in all the years that Mr R and he dined together discussing the match-fixing mafia running the game. Former Pakistan Cricket Board chief Majid Khan told Bacher in June 1999 that two World Cup games had been fixed. Again Bacher kept his silence. If it looks like cricket has strange head priests, it keeps pretty terrible company too. Not just Hansie Cronje and Sanjay Chawla or the alphabet soup of shadowy figures -- Pat Symcox's Mr X or Bacher's Mr R. In April, an official of the Mumbai Cricket Association confirmed that in early 1993 a "well wisher" presented the Indian team with Rs 25 lakh in cash in Wankhede Stadium for sweeping the three-Test series against England. Two months later the well wisher was arrested under TADA. Probably the most sinister links have been made in the testimonies of Rashid Latif and Basit Ali to the Malik Mohammed Qayuum Commission. Latif and Ali told Qayuum that during the 1995 tour they walked into Salim Malik's room and found him with the biggest bookie in Pakistan, Muhammad Hanif Kodvavi alias Hanif Cadbury. Cadbury, a key player in betting circles, had moved from Karachi to South Africa. Last year, he was abducted and died a gruesome death. He was shot 67 times and his body was cut into pieces, according to a report in the Sunday Times of London. Oddly enough, the Johannesburg Police deny that this violent crime ever took place. This inquiry is not about the loss of innocence anymore. It is rather a search for redemption for a troubled sport. The offer of amnesty made by the National Director of Prosecutions Bulelani Ngcuka is not being considered a compromise, but rather a carrot dangled to the players to avoid the big stick of a prison term. But only "full disclosures", one hears, would move the judge to grant it. A businessman from Johannesburg was unimpressed. "There are thousands of people here who are behind bars for months without trial for stealing to feed their families. Why are these guys so special? Why shouldn't they go to jail?" In hindsight there is little sympathy for Herschelle Gibbs' defence now -- that he was worried about supporting his recently divorced mother -- because the 26-year-old would have to make do with his annual UCB salary of only 750,000 rands (Rs 50 lakh), on top of which he earns bonuses and endorsements. Unlike Justice Y.V. Chandrachud, Judge King's Commission is armed with teeth and doesn't mind baring them occasionally. There is a formidable forward line of lawyers including the one man who has taken centrestage. Quiet, seemingly respectful of cricketers, he is like a shark in a bad mood during cross examination. Jeremy Gauntlett's star turn as the UCB counsel comes at a daily fee of close to 15,000 rands (Rs 1 lakh). One of South Africa's top lawyers, Gauntlett was very active during the country's Truth and Reconciliation Commission inquiries and also succeeded in overturning a guilty verdict in a rape charge against fast bowler Makhaya Ntini. Gauntlett makes jokes with the judge and can toy with an inferior intellect on the witness stand as easily as he sits down in his chair. Daryll Cullinan was left a pathetic figure, Cronje's devout Christian beliefs were dismissed as "theological ventriloquism" and Pat Symcox cut off during a chuckling, rambling monologue with a dry, "answer the question Mr Symcox". Gauntlett first congratulated Gibbs for being "forthright and brave" and 10 minutes later reduced the all-rounder to a nervous wreck having proved that he had lied no less than eight times to the UCB about the approach from Cronje. The Inquiry Commission's own team is far less flashy. Shamila Batohi, deputy director of public prosecutions of the province, has with her Vincent Bottle from the Investigating Directorate (Serious Economic Offences), Directorate of Public Prosecutions and two senior police officers -- Geoff Edwards and Grahan Dawes -- who are attached to the Investigating Directorate (Organised Crime). Batohi, an energetic and humorous young woman who has taken apart witnesses' testimonies in court with the precision of a surgeon says, "I've dealt with a lot worse as an prosecutor. But I can only say that it has been extremely uncomfortable for the players and embarrassing to be caught out in front of all those people and the cameras." The inquiry has focused attention in its first 10 days entirely on these players culminating in Cronje's dramatic televised statement. The role of administrators is not yet under such severe scrutiny though there are rumblings within the Government that there is a desire to expose the involvement of those at the very top of cricket. The Centre for the Book, the building where the King Commission inquiry rolls on with pomp and purpose, was set up in Cape Town with the aim of building a "nation of readers" starting with children. The worthies in the thick of the match-fixing controversy, whether well-paid cricketers or powerful cricket officials, may not give kidstuff even a passing glance, but a line from the current rage in children's fiction, the Harry Potter series, issues swift definitive judgement on them. The boy wizard Harry Potter is told by a wise old head, "It is our choices Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
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