A handshake is just that, but one avoided is a lesson in cynicism

There is no rule which says that captains must shake hands at the toss in a cricket match. Just as there is no rule which says that captains must not punch each other in the face. Yet, sportsmen do the former (and not the latter) because that is the civilised thing to do.

To walk off at the end of a game ignoring the opposition is churlish. If the spirit of sport must take a backseat when a dastardly attack on innocent people is involved as India’s captain said, then have the guts to go the whole hog and refuse to play Pakistan anywhere.

Pakistan haven’t come up smelling of roses either. Their plea to sack the match referee is, like the Indian team’s gesture, meant to appease the constituency back home. Governments want to have their cake and eat it too. It is to the advantage of politicians on either side to keep the kettle boiling. Hypocrisy is thus built into the relationship.

Poor skipper Suryakumar Yadav, a gentleman cricketer. He had to come across as boorish and ill-mannered because his government which finds it more convenient to deal in symbolism than in forthrightness, didn’t want to get its hands dirty. It is politics as performative art.

For some years now it has seemed as if multi-team tournaments – the World Cups, Champions Trophy, Asia Cup – are held so India can play Pakistan twice each time, if not thrice. They are placed in the same group, likely to qualify for the next group, and if the prayers of the television gods are answered, meet in the final too.

Part of the entertainment lies in the way television anchors get apoplexy in the build-up. This time one such, overwound by the powers, frothed at the mouth while appealing to the likes of Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid to boycott the match. Haven’t you made enough money, he asked of Sourav Ganguly, so why don’t you take on the Board of Control for Cricket in India? It was hilarious. And pathetic.

As he would have known, it is not the players past or current who decide if India play Pakistan. It is not even the Board of Control for Cricket in India, which in recent years has been an arm of the government anyway, but the government itself which gives the green signal. Still, when fake nationalisms clash, it is safest to pounce on individuals. In any case, surely a government that has taken credit for ending the continuing war in Ukraine can decide whether or not to play in a cricket tournament.

Tendulkar can safely ignore the rant of His Masters Voice, but the Indian skipper can’t go against the wishes of the governing body which thought up the wheeze of leaving hands unshaken, and eyes uncontacted. That way the cricket fans get their India-Pakistan match, and the bhakts have the symbolism to cheer.

If India win — as they are likely to — further symbolism can be poured into the contest; some anchor somewhere might even tell us that beating Pakistan in a cricket match is compensation for losing a relative in the Pahalgam attack. Comparing apples and oranges is a television specialty.

India have participated in sporting boycotts before. For decades they didn’t meet South Africa in any sport owing to that country’s policy of apartheid. In 1974, they forfeited the Davis Cup tennis final rather than play South Africa. Whether India should boycott Pakistan or not is not the burden of this column; official cynicism is.

Pakistan know that regardless of how the loudmouths feel, India will find a way to play against them, even if they themselves have to swallow various insults, from shifts in venues to missing handshakes. Their cricket can’t do without India. The reverse is not even remotely true. India don’t need Pakistan except as a convenient ‘other’ and as a necessary cog in the wheel of television’s most profitable rivalry. India’s Pakistan policy in cricket might not be the most honest, but it has been lucrative, and celebrated as a happy compromise.

Next time, let Suryakumar Yadav shake hands, and regain some dignity. A young generation looking to sport for idealism and optimism is growing up cynical and jaded.