Zimbabwe’s President Robert Mugabe addresses a speech, on April 18, 2008 during celebrations for the country’s independence. Photograph: Alexander Joe/AFP

The idea that sport and politics don’t mix is the first resort of the ignorant fan, born of a blithe denial of the truth. History provides any number of examples to the contrary, from Joe Louis v Max Schmeling, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, to Basil D’Oliveira.

Bread and circuses, stadiums and hotdogs. You can’t separate sport from politics; the connection has always existed. Corrupt regimes have invariably embraced sport as a cheap means of fostering propaganda and popularity. Under Idi Amin, the Ugandan football team enjoyed unprecedented success, reaching the final of the 1978 African Cup of Nations. The amateur boxing team was ranked third in the world. Neither sport was ever so well resourced or funded as it was under Amin. And at the same time hundreds of thousands of Ugandan citizens were murdered.

The reluctance of the Blair government to take a lead in directing English cricket’s relations with Zimbabwe was shameful. In turn it allowed the game’s administrators to perpetuate the same hoary old excuse, coined by Malcolm Speed and still being spun by David Morgan yesterday: “The ICC has never concerned itself with how member countries are governed,” he proclaimed, as though this were somehow a positive quality.

It was this attitude which led to the shambles of the 2003 World Cup, when the inability of both the ICC and the ECB to address the ramifications of playing in Zimbabwe put the onus on the players themselves to decide whether or not England’s match in Harare should go ahead. The consequences of their buck-passing included the detainment (in what the humanitarian organisation Solidarity Peace Trust described as “inhumane conditions”) of 80 protesters in Bulawayo, and at home meant a direct cut in funding for County cricket as the ECB was faced with a £3.5 million compensation claim for lost revenue from broadcasters and sponsors. The ICC were still insisting that sport and politics don’t mix when Henry Olonga and Andy Flower made their black armband protest during the match against Namibia.

Incredibly, the situation recurred in 2004, when the ECB were practically on their knees pleading for a firm official line from the Blair administration on whether the tour should go ahead. It never came. Again the players were forced to make their own decision on the matter.

At a time when there is a mounting perception among the public and press that the Brown government can’t get anything much right, they should be applauded for taking a firm stand against Zimbabwe’s presence in the World Twenty20 next year.

It is a damning indictment of the previous regime’s handling of the issue that the letter from Andy Burnham to the ECB stating that England should not be playing cricket against Zimbabwe should seem to be so refreshingly direct an approach. That clarity of thought and action is the very least we should expect from a government which has been so keen to use sporting success for its own political advancement. Having been repeatedly shafted by the government’s wavering over the years, it’s childishly satisfying that one England player urinated in the garden of No10 Downing Street, while another called Blair a wally during their drunken post-Ashes party.

With an official line now in place the onus is on the ICC to decide its own course of action. With the UN so forthright in its criticism of the recent actions of the Mugabe regime, it would be hard, morally, for the ICC not to impose sanctions. Unfortunately morals have nothing to do with it. The process will be hindered by the internal politicking of the organisation, with Zimbabwe a useful ally for certain power blocs within the ICC.

Of course the decision is complicated. The game’s governors must try to sustain and nurture cricket in the country, and there is an argument that by excluding the cricketers from international competition we deny the opportunity to bring further attention to the gravity of the domestic situation. It’s a specious line, and it shouldn’t hold any sway. England’s tour in 2004-05 was played in a sealed environment, players and journalists hustled from hotel to changing room with hardly a glimpse of the unrest outside their windows.

A precedent has been set by the politicians. If the ICC do not concur with it, then England may be removed as hosts of the World Twenty20 tournament. So be it. As Olonga and Flower showed, it takes a sacrifice to make a stance.

About this articleCloseThis article was first published on guardian.co.uk on Wednesday June 25 2008. It was last updated at 13:20 on June 25 2008.

guardian.co.uk