As tainted with war-like controversy, like the 2025 Asian Cup in Dubai, there have been few multilateral sports tournaments in recent memory. Russia’s exclusion from the 2024 Olympics or the 2022 FIFA World Cup could be cited as an example, but they were decisions made quietly in closed rooms by sports authorities. However, this Asian Cup edition turned out to be a very different event. The three matches between India and Pakistan were filled with theatrical displays of Jingoism. It’s something that looks like a hand gesture mimicking a crashing fighter, a clash involving a match umpire, a proxy war between two cricket boards.
This strength is rooted in a long history. The two countries are fighting several wars and their cricket ties are deeply influenced. Since the 2008 attack on Mumbai by gunmen related to Pakistan, they have only performed one bilateral series hosted by India in 2012. That line is now being erased by players and politicians acting in the same way. The way this year’s Asian Cup unfolded provided clear evidence of how cricket is militarized. Not just by chance, but as a deliberate performance to maintain a sight that will generate billions of dollars.
At a post-match press conference on September 14th, India’s captain Suryakumalyadav made a similar statement with even greater passion after his victory over Pakistan just two weeks later. Pakistani high-speed bowler Harislauf admitted 50 runs in four overs in the final but was found guilty of a no-sports theater charge. He was fined 30% of the match fee after mimicking allegedly crashing six Indian fighter jets during a May clash between his neighbors. Rauf’s gestures quickly became word of mouth.
Ironically, Yadav and Rauv had poor personal performances in the tournament, but their ultranationalism was displayed with the greatest passion. Perhaps this is how it all works today. Social media sherittrick and non-sports shenanigans have proven to be more effective by fans in maintaining relevance and validation than actually contributing to the field.
Not only did the Indian team refuse to shake hands with Pakistanis, they also refused the opportunity to receive the trophy from Mohsin Naqvi, Pakistan’s federal minister and president of the Asian Cricket Council (ACC), which leads its country’s cricket committee. It was a rare sight. After India refused to accept the trophy from Naqvi, the winning team celebrated empty-handedly as the ACC took the silverware from the ceremony and didn’t give it to the winner. Rabbi Shastri, a former Indian player and coach and now well-known commentator, said the situation was “silly”. The entire tournament is nothing more than one side, but a gingoistic Tom Fourie. Sports aims to repair and promote diplomacy rather than creating more divisions.
This blurred division between sports and foreign policy has hampered the image of cricket, a game of gentlemen. In a tweet from his official X-handle, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi implies that India’s performance is an “Operation Sindoor” on the field. Suhashini Haider, a well-known Indian journalist, pointedly said that the Prime Minister “compares the fatal conflict in which both the military and civilians have been killed with a match of cricket.” This tweet and its analysis serves as a proper representation of the fighting environment created throughout the tournament. Equating the game with a serious military conflict that has taken lives, caused grief for thousands of families and caused economic losses doesn’t sit well with sane citizens.
What makes this display even more of a problem is the pure hypocrisy of play. The Indian Committee for Cricket has been refusing to play bilateral cricket with Pakistan, citing political tensions and security concerns. However, with interests rising and sponsors line up to millions of dollars, India and Pakistan are sure to face off more than once in a multilateral tournament, often in more than one time. Even the Indian masses gradually succumbed. What began as a boycott in the first match became the final full-on festival. All eyes glued to the screen are converted into all viral clips of profit and provocative fuel engagement in the field. Militarization like this business of cricket encourages an environment in which players can be rewarded more for gingoistic antics than cricket’s excellence.
On the other side, the Pakistani players and boards were not saints either. Rauv’s gestures mimicking the crashing Indian jet are a prime example of playing in a gallery rather than respecting the spirit of the game. Instead of focusing on cricket, they relied on too little provocations and remained in the headlines. All this shows that showing the manship of nationalism to the next generation of cricketers is more important, if not more important than the discipline of the sport.
When a player plays with a certain hangover influenced by his hometown environment, performances can also suffer as well as personal actions with rival team members after the game. If two of the most important cricket countries can act in such a way, it sets a bad precedent for the new nation trying to enter the stage. The cup was literally the opposite of what the sport was supposed to represent, creating more tension, allowing war-like emotions to spill over the entire 22 yards.
If two teams avoid each other altogether, the sport and the sane of those who admire it would be better. Cricket deserves better. If they insist on turning all India-Pakistani encounters into proxy wars for profit, all they can do is openly acknowledge it. I remember the 2025 Asian Cup, not because of the stigma that was brought to the game, not because of the points or wickets. And that is probably the saddest commentary of all.
It can be argued that banning them until they have restored their sense of decency is the only way to advance. After all, should Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Afghanistan or even neutral fans around the world be forced to endure addiction to multilateral tournaments by two countries that treat cricket as an extension of conflict and xenophobia? Temporarily excludes India and Pakistan from international events, and if cricket scales down to a theatre of nationalism, it sends a strong signal that cricket cannot survive.
But such a ban is easier than that. India is a financial powerhouse in cricket and controls the International Cricket Council (ICC), and Pakistan remains a significant draw. Their matches provide a number of viewers who continue to invest their sponsors. At least every ICC committee has no courage to stand by its biggest market. The outcome is a paradox. A contest that corrodes the spirit of cricket is also something you pay for its survival. As long as the money decides the decision, cricket remains hostage in this destructive rivalry.
The views expressed in this article are the authors themselves and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
