In the same way that little things please little minds – how else you could you explain my near orgasmic state of mind when a Class 47 diesel locomotive passes by? – then little things can also piss off little minds. That’s because what is a little thing (ooh er, missus) can become a big thing in my mind. Take yesterday afternoon. There I was, watching England’s useless Rugby Union team get annihilated by a rampant France, who were clearly making a statement about Suella Braverman’s controversial attack on refugees and small boats when it happened. The defeat wasn’t the thing that pissed off my little mind. It was far more nuanced than that. It was the song being belted out by England fans in their thousand hordes. Swing Low Sweet Chariot.
Swing Low, Sweet Chariot was originally sung by black slaves in America as they dreamed of freedom, something that is, to be fair, disputed by some who would rather believe it wasn’t. Maro Itoje, the England forward who is black, says the song makes him “uncomfortable” and he won’t be singing it. He wouldn’t want to ban people singing it ‘”because you can’t regulate what comes out of people’s mouths but I think people should be educated about the background of the song and it will be down to any individual if they want to sing it or not.” Since I read that in The Guardian, I have always thought of Itoje’s words and while I agree with him you can’t ban the song, people really shouldn’t sing it at Rugby Union internationals. But they sang it yesterday, loud and proud, and my passion as a proud Englishman, dissipated. I no longer cared if England lost, which given the final scoreline was just as well.
It’s important to remember that this blog is there to express my feelings on things and that’s how I felt yesterday. I know not everyone will feel the same way and that’s fair enough. But to me, a crowd of mainly white middle class people singing a song with connotations about black slavery, well, it didn’t feel right. And as France galloped to a record win and England staggered to a humiliating defeat, I could not help but gloat as the very same people deserted the stadium long before the end of the game. “Serves you right,” I muttered quietly to myself.
I know that I am coming across as holier than thou when in truth I have not always behaved in a holier than thou way – far from it! – but I’ve been highly woke about racism for well over 40 years. I’m hardly going to change now. I well remember the bad old days when racism on the football terraces was the norm and not the exception. We’ve come a long way since then and to be honest I’m not going to stop now.
I shouldn’t lump all England RU fans together, I know, because some will have the same feelings about Swing Low Sweet Chariot as me. It just doesn’t sound like it. And having experienced casual racism and homophobia on the train back from Cardiff, after England beat a team even worse than them, Wales, where a large number of fans sang, yes, you guessed it, Swing Low Sweet Chariot, I am finding it hard to warm to the supporters and even the team.
Let’s be clear that I am not accusing all England RU supporters of being card-carrying racists, but I question the widespread singing of a song sang by black slaves. It’s more likely to be a lazy ritual than anything else and hopefully in time it will die out, just like England’s chances of winning the World Cup. There was no evidence yesterday of it dying out and I couldn’t help wishing those England supporters a miserable trip home to their semi-detached suburban homes.
