Opinion: Swing Low a distraction from RFU hypocrisy

David Skippers

Planet Rugby features writer James While gives his views on the Rugby Football Union’s decision to undertake a review into the Swing Low, Sweet Chariot song, which is  popular among England rugby supporters.

“The RFU has stated we need to do more to achieve diversity and we are determined to accelerate change and grow awareness,” said a spokesman from the governing body recently. “The Swing Low, Sweet Chariot song has long been part of the culture of rugby and is sung by many who have no awareness of its origins or its sensitivities. We are reviewing its historical context and our role in educating fans to make informed decisions.”

The Swing Low, Sweet Chariot review has certainly caused some debate, but it appears to be a bizarre call by England Rugby, bearing in mind that the song’s origins show us that it’s an African American spiritual song, the earliest known recording of which was in 1909, by the Fisk Jubilee Singers of Fisk University. Let’s just examine the real history; in 2002, the Library of Congress went as far as honouring the song as one of 50 recordings chosen to be added to the National Recording Registry. It was also included in the list of Songs of the Century, by the Recording Industry Association of America and the National Endowment for the Arts. So, as a song, it’s artistically and culturally celebrated, and its meaning is revered as a reference point of unacceptable times.

Indeed, so offensive was the song to the right wing regime of Germany that in 1939, Germany’s Reich Music Examination Office added the song to a listing of “undesired and harmful” musical works. The song then enjoyed a resurgence during the 1960s civil rights struggle and the folk revival; it was performed by a number of artists, perhaps the most famous performance during this period was that by Joan Baez during the legendary 1969 Woodstock festival.

From the above, we can glean that the only group of people in history to find it offensive, other than the RFU council, is a bunch of all-white fascist dictators.

The alternative rugby version of the song was developed from the concept that a series of hand-mime gestures (all of which are agnostic in regards to race, creed and colour) were created; a song that every young rugby player could learn and subsequently be fined by a kangaroo court should he or she not segue the gestures correctly to the lyrics.

Yet, for some reason, if an England Rugby supporter sings it, it appears to be offensive to the RFU, despite the gesture being as potentially culturally unifying and respectful of cultural mismatching as taking a knee in respect of Black Lives Matter. To understand the lyrics and to resonate with the struggles of the people of those times is to question it, to enlighten oneself and for that alone, #BLM has served an amazing purpose already.

We also now need to look at the RFU’s track record in Black, Asian and minority ethnic (BAME) employment. Despite their recent announcement regarding a review of their record in employment discrimination, it’s a fact that out of 450 employed staff, not one single ethnic person has reached senior management. Ever.

In 2012, out of those 450 employees based at Twickenham, there were precisely two ethnic members. Out of 53 youth development officers on their staff, only two were of a BAME background. When Ugo Monye and his brother visited the Spirit Of Rugby, they reflected that they were the only BAME people in the room that were not serving food. Yet in their blissful ignorance the RFU believe that the only racial issue they have is the lyrics of a song.

The lyrics are now more important than ever; with an England side that has something approaching a 50/50 split in racial makeup, the song celebrates the plight and struggle of times gone by. It is, in itself, a litmus of white privilege and the debate has opened up an educational process of understanding just what these people went through in order to improve their hopes, spirits and lives. In writing this piece, the author has himself looked inwardly and deeply at the deep privilege enjoyed purely though skin colour. That alone tells you that to sing it and understand it is far more important than using it as a self-aggrandising metaphor for the lack of culture change within the organisation looking to condemn it.

Don’t forget, this is the very same England Rugby that find it totally appropriate to destroy the hushed tension before kick-off, the breathless anticipation of the first hit, the first collision and the first run, with a booming rendition of Lose Yourself by Eminem which alludes to shooting and features the words ‘motherf***er’ clearly within in it. Just what we want for the school parties and kids to listen to and to take out as a touchpoint for rugby.

The simple fact is, the leadership of the marketing and communications department at Twickenham know nothing about rugby and even less about racial integration. They have spent the last 20 years diluting every unique selling point and cultural experience of an international day, and, because of their lack of understanding of rugby’s differentiation points, have used the soccer experience as some form of common denominator to absolutely remove any competitive edge that rugby has.

In short, they are commoditising an offering that needs differentiation, a disastrous strategy and one that is proven by the crippling losses the union has suffered.

Their latest wheeze is to further remove differentiation by employing Umbro, a company who, at the time of appointment, has absolutely no rugby ball, no rugby product and no rugby reference on their website, to deliver England’s replica kit sales.

At the core of this, the RFU’s strategy is all about them making money for someone that’s not fully defined. However, when you examine the accounts of the business and find that the basic salaries of the executives are north of £200k per person, then you’d be excused for the cynical view that they’re making money to keep their own inflated salaries (and egos) nice and cosy for themselves.

But despite these massive salaries, the grassroots game has never been more starved of cash, identity or communication. Club sides that used to run seven teams on a Saturday now run three, because the player interest, match day official numbers and coaching numbers are diminishing quicker than an England scrum against the Springboks.

Every part of Twickenham has been monetised to the lowest common denominator. The West Car Park used to be a thriving landscape of originality, fun and differentiated activity. Now, it’s fast food, plastic cups and chip wrappers with all of the rugby experience cachet removed forever. The Barbour brigade may have been one extreme, but the incoming Umbro crowds appear to be completely the other extreme, and balance of experience combined with choice is needed.

As long as the union continue to employ leaders that have no understanding of any form of culture and no connectivity to the grassroots game this will continue and the continued false sanitisation of the sport will only result in more failure for the RFU, and failure on a seismic level.

In short, Swing Low has been made a convenient scapegoat for bigger underlying problems in the organisation of racism, white privilege and lack of diversity that have existed and continue to exist within the RFU.

by James While

 

England