Pitched Battle

by Larry Writer

  Unquestionably there is an urgency, for those who want to see Australians take a stand against apartheid, to embark on a massive education program. Unfortunately we have seen the Prime Minister in recent weeks exploiting this massive information gap by resorting to the worst sort of gutter politics reminiscent of the Menzian era when the best form of electioneering was hysteria that played on every prejudice circulating in the community. History will show that this opportunist of a prime minister is not half the man his predecessor was. I would like to see Australians follow the lead given by the Leader of the Opposition [Gough Whitlam] and the Premiers of South Australia and Western Australia [Don Dunstan and John Tonkin] and boycott the matches. I would like them to urge others to do the same and peacefully protest against the tour.

  I am completely opposed to attempts to disrupt the matches because although I do not want people to watch the matches I would defend their right to do so. I would also like to say that at the moment I have grave misgivings about the trade unions’ proposal to stop the tour by withdrawing the work force. I believe in civil rights and the freedom of the individual to follow his conscience and choose his own method of protest. I am delighted to see the ACTU take a stand on the issue. I shall ask the unions however to reconsider thoughtfully the full implications of their proposals. I am inclined to want to see them follow the lead by the Australian World Council of Churches and the Labor leaders and educate, demonstrate and activate … What happens next is anybody’s guess …

  CHAPTER 11

  A PROTESTER’S PRIMER

  Denis Freney and Peter McGregor had been hard at work plotting the Springboks’ demise. Among their tasks was to pen and print hundreds of copies of the Anti-Apartheid Movement Protester’s Guidebook, with its breezy subtitle ‘How to Make Sure There Will Be No More All-White Springbok Sporting Tours of Australia and How to Do Your Darndest to Stop the Rugby Games in Which the Springboks Play in July and August’. McGregor distributed the guidebook to existing and potential protesters.

  In an opening riposte to SARB president Danie Craven, who had stigmatised demonstrators as ‘dirty, long-haired ruffians suffering from delayed puberty’, the authors dedicated their guide ‘to all them nigger-loving, dirty, long-haired ruffians suffering from delayed puberty ignorant enough to oppose the world’s great race — the herrenvolk of South Africa — and to work for the liberation of the black oppressed’.

  The guidebook explained that the AAM’s goal was ‘to cut off all sporting contact with South Africa as a major step to the international isolation of the racist regime and [to be] a direct, psychological and moral aid to the oppressed non-white majority fighting for liberation. Our immediate strategic aim in the coming months is to make the Springboks’ visit and games so unpleasant, so hostile, so unbearable that they will never come again and, above all, that the Springboks’ cricket tour will be cancelled.’

  The guidebook answered the questions its recipients would be asking …

  Should AAM people attempt to disrupt the games rather than carry on silent protest, knowing that active protest will alienate some members of the community? ‘If you simply wish to make a silent protest and gain the sympathy of the widest layers [of the community] then you will be content with silent protest outside the games. We believe that silent vigils, peaceful rallies outside the grounds, leafleting etc, are forms of protest and we respect and encourage those people who wish to take only this form of action. However, we believe that if you want to stop the tours this year, [peaceful protest] is clearly not enough. The Springboks will come and play no matter the moral protest because they scorn any who do not accept their racist theories. The [Australian] rugby union and cricket authorities will invite them if they do not feel the games will be disrupted.’

  The next question posed in the guide was, ‘But won’t it be too risky and dangerous to get onto the grounds, given the neo-fascists who are mobilised and rugby thugs, let alone the police?’ The response: ‘The risk of injury will be much less if the protesters are well-organised, keep in a compact group, and are willing to protect each other. Some danger may exist, but we saw in the surfing test that scare talk by the press of “vigilantes” proved so much hot air in the Coogee demonstration. Any danger can be minimalised by sensible precautions.’ In fact, the risk of being bashed by rugby supporters and National Socialists was very, very real, as events would prove. ‘The AAM is also approaching trade unionists to come to the grounds to help protect young protesters against any possible attack. One of the main purposes of this booklet is precisely to provide information that will both make the protest as effective as possible and to provide protesters with the greatest degree of protection possible. Let us recall that whatever sacrifice we may have to make to stop the tour, that it is nothing compared with the suffering of the non-white majority who [are not allowed] non-violent protest and who must take far greater personal risks and make greater sacrifices in their fight for liberation.’

  The guidebook listed the tactics that protesters should follow. ‘In all our actions we must be non-violent, seeking to halt the games but under no circumstances [doing] any physical harm to the tourists or spectators or any other sector involved.’

  When the Springboks came to town in the first days of July, continued the guide, there would be four forms of protest: joining the peaceful CARIS rallies and marches outside the rugby ground; picketing and leafleting outside the ground (one flyer exhorted spectators to remain seated during the playing of the South African national anthem); noisy protest inside the ground and at the Springboks’ hotel and receptions; and active protest on the field itself, notably running on while the game was in progress and disrupting it.

  Those who wished to demonstrate inside the ground were advised to enter independently to avoid identification as part of a protesting group by police or rugby officials at the turnstiles. Therefore this guide and other AAM literature, anti-apartheid badges, banners, smoke flares, whistles, portable sirens, laughing bags (to be activated during the South African national anthem), and balloons should be concealed until entry was granted, and there should be no talk of the protest that could be overheard by officials. ‘Carry an Esky of grog, be typically a Rugger Bugger (as much as humanly possible!). Be nonchalant. You’re there for a pleasant sunny afternoon’s rugby. [Wear] an “I’m Rapt in Rugby” badge … that’ll fool ’em. If you want to make a real sacrifice, if you’re one of those long-haired ruffians get yourself a short back and sides and cut off that beard.’

  The guidebook continued: ‘Come warmly padded up. If you are going over the fence it would be wise to wear old clothes, but tough ones. Some sort of headgear would also be desirable but should not be too outlandish. Maybe a cravat or tie will help the disguise, [or a helmet] … Even rugby supporters drive motor bikes and wear safety helmets.

  ‘If you want only to be part of noisy protest but not go over the fence: It is important to sit together in a tightly-knit group. When the noisy demonstration begins, join the crowd who will be at a particular point in the ground. Possibly a banner will be hoisted some time before, or balloons blown up. Link arms if any hostile elements try to enter the heart of the group.’ Whistles should be blown to irritate the players and the spectators and also in the hope that the sound would be mistaken for the referee’s whistle. ‘The noisy protest should only begin when the Springboks come onto the field … not in preliminary matches, your lung-power is limited.’ The jeering should be louder than the pro-Springbok cheers from rugby fans. ‘If you are picked on by pigs, keep low and run between seats.’ Rolled-up placards could serve as megaphones to yell slogans through. People releasing balloons should make sure that the wind was blowing in the direction of the field. ‘Smoke bombs and other projectiles to be thrown in unison when play comes close to us. The more bombs, the harder it is for police to retrieve them. “Sieg Heils” to cover bomb-throwers.’

  The noise should reach a crescendo ‘when they play
the fascist National Anthem of the Springboks. On this occasion, the pro-tour forces will stand, head-uncovered, in silent praise of the South African state. Now that is really bringing politics into sport. Remain seated [during the anthem] and make the maximum possible noise … whistles, clickers, chants, sirens etc. Cheer loudly every mistake the Springboks make and every point scored against them. Cheer anyone [of us] who gets onto the field.’

  Whistles, it was advised, should be blown to a set rhythm, ideally three short blasts repeated again and again. Clickers should be clicked continuously. As for chants, ‘Remember that the usual chant leader may well be identified and refused entrance into the ground; everyone therefore should be his own chant leader. We suggest the following chants: “Paint ’Em Black and Send ’Em Back”, “Free Black Africa”, “A Pox on the Boks”, “Man-Del-A”, “Oom-Kon-Tow (phonetic spelling of guerrilla organisation)”, “One, Two, Three, Four … No More Racist Tour”, “Racists Go Home”.’

  At half time, suggested the guide, there could be ‘some form of guerrilla theatre. Any bright ideas?’

  Above all, ‘Keep cool. Don’t get side-tracked. Be your own leader, don’t wait for someone to tell you what to do. Make the game unbearable. All means are valid to stop games which do not cause injury to persons. Take care and no-one will get hurt.’

  The following advice was for those planning to run onto the field mid-match. For protection and to formulate strategy according to prevailing circumstances, the guide advised that ‘affinity groups’ of six protesters be formed once inside the ground. The groups should secure a position near the perimeter fence as close to the field as possible, but not near the ‘noisy protest’ group. ‘Play the role of a typical rugby follower in the early games and the main game until you decide to act. To carry out your disguise, it will be necessary to stand up for the South African National Anthem. The result later on will be worth it.

  ‘Police (facing you, not the game) will probably thickly line the ground around the fence. At the Sydney Cricket Ground there will be three strands of barbed wire to climb over. That makes it pretty difficult but there are ways and means, weak spots that can be penetrated. Look alive! If you see the chance, Go! Barbed wire can be cut through, as any ex-school cadet knows. Strong wire clippers are needed. Hold the wire firmly at each end and cut on the outside of the hands, otherwise the wire will lash about, possibly doing serious damage. If there is no time to cut the wire, put a heavy blanket over it and roll over it and onto the field. Of your group of six, three should stand guard for the other three while they climb the fence. To ward off rugby vigilantes and thugs, a spray can of Mortein is potent … Remember: speed and surprise is the key. Unless you are very lucky you will be caught by the police. Try, of course, to avoid them while carrying out your objective. Form circles with linked arms to make it difficult to carry you off. However do not resist when firmly caught. Go quietly and follow instructions.’

  The AAM had organised ‘most details of legal defence’ for apprehended field invaders. ‘If you are arrested, you should: Give only your name, address and occupation; do not discuss any aspect of your arrest with the police holding you in custody; demand in a loud voice to know what you are being arrested for. Remember the reply; if you have been caught and there is no chance of rescue or escape, go quietly to avoid charges of resisting arrest … keep cool … do not use “unseemly” words; Very important — as soon as you are released ring 404342 or 266201 with details of the charges, the court you will appear in, the date and time of appearance.’ There were tips on accessing the student and trade-union bail funds — ‘We’ll have you out as soon as possible’ — and telephone numbers for a panel of AAM-appointed lawyers ‘willing to give their services free to all arrested’.

  Nor should the persecution of the Springbok players be confined to the Sydney Cricket Ground. ‘Just as effective,’ insisted the Protesters’ Guidebook, ‘is the continual harassment of the Springboks 24 hours a day while they are in Sydney. The Squire Inn Motel, 29 Newland Street, Bondi Junction (tel: 3891266) will be constantly picketed while the Springboks are here. Flying teams [of protesters on motorbikes] will follow them wherever they go, to training sessions, receptions, shopping.’ When motorists drove past the hotel they should give ‘a toot against apartheid’. Protesters were exhorted to phone and torment the managers of South African Airways, the South African Tourist Corporation, and South African Fire & Insurance. The guidebook divulged the relevant phone numbers.

  Finally, there were details of the time and place of anti-apartheid rallies being staged at such places as the Stephen Roberts Theatre on the Sydney University campus and the Boilermakers’ Hall in Castlereagh Street at which Bishop Crowther and Peter Hain would be speaking.

  ‘The guidebook became a bestseller,’ reported Freney. ‘The money soon began to pour in, more than enough to cover the basic publicity costs of the AAM. We had no central office, with Meredith’s lounge room and other lodgings around the city serving as points for meetings and storage of flares and other gear. We also published tens of thousands of copies of a broadsheet to expose apartheid and mobilise people for the protests.’

  Available for demonstrators aligning with the AAM to purchase at cost price was an ‘Action Kit’ comprising the Protesters’ Guidebook, a shrill plastic whistle, a frog-shaped clicker, and a black balloon with a slogan on it. ‘The kit looked like something you’d put under a Christmas tree,’ said Freney, who, with McGregor, scoured toy wholesalers around Sydney, who were delighted to sell stock they would not normally be able to move until December.

  The AAM’s headquarters was Meredith Burgmann’s rented share house with Helen Randerson and Di Talty at 26 Darghan Street, Glebe, near Wentworth Park. ‘It was a disgusting little place, but a place of youthful passion,’ she says. ‘The AAM took over our lives. We met a couple of nights a week after uni and every night while the Springboks were in Sydney. We’d sit in our funny sitting room around a little table littered with handwritten battle plans, ashtrays, wine glasses, newspapers, notepads, smoke flares, posters, whistles, and because we ate while we were plotting our attacks, bowls of Denis Freney’s homemade curries. There was a big hole in the kitchen floor and for the six years we were there we never reported it to the landlady. You had to avoid falling into it when you went to the toilet in the middle of the night.’

  ‘Many weird and wonderful schemes were dreamed up there, only some of which reached fruition,’ wrote Freney. ‘There was no grass smoked and very little alcohol drunk, although some good wine would be opened towards the end of the evening.’

  Hotly debated at the AAM gatherings was the extent to which members could go in their campaign of civil disobedience. It was agreed that it was fine to disrupt matches with mid-game field invasions and by throwing firecrackers, smoke flares, and other missiles onto the playing area; vandalising and sabotaging equipment and vehicles and defacing the playing surface was encouraged — as Meredith Burgmann was fond of saying, ‘There’s no such thing as a dead door, or a wounded window or goalpost.’ But no humans, whether police, players, fans, or the general public, were to be physically harmed.

  Consequently, one idea to hide sharp steel tacks in cream-cheese sandwiches and offer them to rugby fans was blessedly abandoned. There was great enthusiasm when chemistry students showed up with phials of homemade tear gas until Freney reminded them that the noxious gas, while it undoubtedly would be effective, could damage the eyes, respiratory system, and skin of not only the Springboks but also the Australian players, spectators, and, indeed, the demonstrators themselves. Seasoned demonstrator Mike Jones proposed flying a remote-controlled model aeroplane over the field to drop smoke bombs on the players as it zoomed about. Money was earmarked for the scheme, but Jones’ dive-bombing brainstorm never got off the ground.

  One problem facing the AAM organisers was that there was no way to monitor everyone who demonstrated in the name of opposing apartheid. ‘The
re was a huge number of protesters,’ says Burgmann, ‘and there were some crazy and violent types, along with the good people.’ Throughout the Springbok tour, police would confiscate tennis balls stuffed with tacks and broken glass; screwdrivers; knives; and lead pipes filled with gravel and twopenny bungers. Marbles would be thrown under the hooves of police horses, and pins and knives jabbed into the horses’ flanks to make them rear and throw their riders. Considering the arsenals of the combatants in the demonstrations and riots that would ensue all over Australia during the Springbok tour, the injury toll should have been no surprise.

  A few doors up from the house in Darghan Street was a ships’ chandlery that sold marine flares. ‘We figured that these flares would be perfect missiles to throw onto the rugby fields and cloak the game in thick orange smoke, which caused no injury but looked spectacular and dramatic,’ says Burgmann. ‘We pretty much bought that chandlery’s entire stock, hundreds of marine safety flares.’ To avoid arousing suspicion, the demonstrators ambled into the chandlery one or two at a time and bought a small number of flares. ‘It was hilarious: daggy, long-haired students in duffle coats going in and saying, “I’m going yachting, I need some marine flares.” If the proprietor thought this was strange, he never said. Perhaps he knew what we were up to, and hated apartheid, too. He certainly made a fortune out of us.’