Whose identity is it anyway?

Being a supporter of the Pakistan cricket team is akin to being a heroin addict. Watching Afridi and his men one can go from sublime, orgasmic highs to desolate lows — often within the space of an over. Even if you vow to kick the habit after a bad score (New Zealand), you are soon drawn back in for another hit (Australia). This side can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory in one match and effortlessly destroy a middle order in the next. If the Pakistan team were a film title they would be Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham. The oscillating fortunes of this team leave you exhausted.

However, it can be especially exhausting if you, like me, share multiple identities and support other teams. In our globalised, interconnected, interfaith, intermarriage and dual national world, the old homogeneous certainties of the past no longer abide. So there I was this weekend cheering on Pakistan against Australia on Saturday and screaming at the TV as England lost miserably to Ireland in the Six Nations Rugby on Sunday.

In 1990, Norman Tebbit, the British Conservative politician, infamously devised a ‘cricket test’ to examine the ‘loyalty’ or ‘lack of loyalty’ of immigrants to the England cricket team. According to Tebbit, those who rooted for their country of origin rather than England might not be sufficiently loyal to their new country. He told the Los Angeles Times that “a large proportion of Britain’s Asian population fail to pass the cricket test. Which side do they cheer for? It’s an interesting test. Are you still harking back to where you came from or where you are?” This was a simplistic assessment then (What about the conflicting loyalties of the Welsh, Scots? Are they not sufficiently loyal to Britain?), but glaringly anachronistic in the 21^st century.

Last week I attended a lecture by Tariq Ramadan, the Islamic scholar and grandson of Hassan alBanna, the founder of the Islamic Brotherhood. He had a pithy line about his own diverse background, describing himself as “Swiss by nationality, Muslim by religion, and Egyptian by memory”. Our hyper-connected and hyper-mobile world allows our identity to be drawn from a far wider, more internationalised, heterogeneous pool than previous generations. The pillars of one’s identity — religion, nationality, ethnicity, sexuality and class — are now given greater exposure to alternatives. An African tribesman once asked Michael Palin, the ex-Python, actor and travel presenter, what tribe he belonged to — “British middle class” was the resolute reply. Such emphatic convictions are rare in our fluid world. Our sense of self is increasingly made up of differing, and sometimes conflicting, identities. Is he less British because he supports the Pakistan cricket team?

Perhaps all this fluidity is a good thing? Religion, nation states and ethnicities in the past have never really had to work for their subjects’ loyalty. Instead they have relied upon an unearned inheritance from unquestioning followers. Greater exposure allows us to actively choose our identities — with many in the process choosing to renounce antiquated, unwarranted beliefs.

When it comes to my own ‘cricket test’ I am a pragmatist, supporting both the Pakistan and English teams when they are playing. And what about when these two teams meet? I take my inspiration from those bastions of moral rectitude — the Pakistani politicians. Yes, I become a ‘lota’. I switch my support to whoever looks to be winning. It is not unknown for me to switch loyalties several times in a single match, effectively becoming the Faisal Saleh Hayat of cricket fans. So today I will be cheering on Pakistan and on Saturday I will be supporting England. And if the two meet later on in the competition — and I hope they don’t — I will be cheering on the game (and the winning team). After which, I may need to check into rehab.

Published in The Express Tribune, March 23^rd, 2011.