The price of speaking their mind is particularly high for sportspersons

Mesut Ozil with Turkish roots, chose to condemn the Chinese government's treatment of Uighur Muslims in the country's Xinjiang province

Now is perhaps a good time to admit that I’ve started feeling genuinely sorry for Mesut Ozil. If his embarrassingly limited game time for Arsenal wasn’t depressing enough, football fans across China are burning his shirts and calling for Arsenal to terminate his contract — the disappearing act may be an Ozil patent, but his fans are pulling one on him now. All because the playmaker, a German footballer with Turkish roots, chose to condemn the Chinese government’s treatment of Uighur Muslims in the country’s Xinjiang province. China’s communist government, in an expected display of exemplary intolerance, has even gone to the absurd extent of removing the player’s name from the Pro Evolution Soccer 2020 video game available in the country. 

Given his uncomfortably close relationship with Recep Tayyip Erdogan — the Turkish president was best man at his wedding — Ozil espousing the cause of minorities may reek of hypocrisy, but the truth is that the backlash at his concern once again underscores the perils of high-profile celebrities weighing in on politics. Whatever his ties with Erdogan, the grim reality would suggest that Ozil was right in pointing to the plight of Uighur Muslims in China, many of whom, as a recent news leak revealed, are being systematically brainwashed in a network of high-security prison camps. 

In the age of social media and fan engagement, Ozil should, of course, be allowed to say whatever he desires, and his stance is indeed laudable, but at some level it is also needless — the price you often end up paying for such courage is just not worth the hassle. Mainly because players who speak up against brutalities aren’t offered the kind of protection they deserve. In this case, Arsenal has already decided to walk away, clarifying that the “content published is Ozil’s personal opinion”, and that “as a football club, it has always adhered to the principle of not involving itself in politics”. And it’d be nothing short of a miracle if one were to hear anything from the German Football Association in Ozil’s defence, since the midfielder himself quit the national team last year after getting fed up of being discriminated against in his own country. 

This tendency to hang them out to dry could be partly why our own sportspersons are so terribly afraid of saying anything that is even remotely against those in power. Not to mention the vicious trolling that that would attract. 

It’s easy to question our cricketers’ silence over something like the Citizenship Amendment Act without acknowledging the fact that the body that employs them is essentially a political one. How can one expect anyone to speak out when the Board of Control for Cricket in India is led by a man who was apparently put in charge at the behest of the ruling party at the very last minute? Or worse, his second-in-command is the son of the very minister who read out the contents of the tendentious Bill in Parliament. 

Moreover, athletes — traditionally conservative in India anyway — will forever be wary of getting on the wrong side of people who pretty much make them who they are. Unlike most other walks of life, sport is driven more by fan devotion than anything else. Without fanatical support, sport would cease to be sport. And without intense fan loyalty, athletes would just be athletes, not godlike superstars. By that logic — given their humongous following — they also perhaps owe society a greater responsibility, but one that can only be performed if we spectators choose to separate our politics from our sport.

Mesut Ozil

Historically, athletes who have bucked the trend have triggered substantial change but also paid dearly for their outspokenness. Tommie Smith and John Carlos may have raised a black-gloved fist at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, but they were subsequently sent home from the Games after the International Olympic Committee deemed the gesture unsuitable for such a stage. Muhammad Ali defied the US government by refusing to serve in the Vietnam War; in return, he had his titles taken away and put in prison during the peak of his career. Similarly, Colin Kaepernick may have kneeled during the American national anthem to protest racism and police brutality, but the act has left him without a team for more than three years. 

These athletes took these risks well aware of the harsh repercussions that would follow. Not everyone is blessed with such bravery. And while more from the sporting world need to raise their voice, that can only happen if we create an environment not of intimidation but of understanding. As the Ozils of this world continue to suffer, it is perhaps important to recognise that standing up for something mustn’t always end in some form of social ostracism. Because mostly, that’s the very idea they’re urged to speak out against.