Arthur Ashe: Tennis and Justice in the Civil Rights Era

7 Transitions

chapter 7 The reviews were in. “Ashe cut an aloof, disdainful figure on the courts. He was so dignified he was almost painful to watch,” reported the Cape Times. The “integrated” crowds had erupted in cheers after every point and following each one of Ashe’s powerful strokes. Exhibiting an uncharacteristic focus and a determination to win for himself and his race, he had been the epitome of the gentleman athlete, “detached and unresponsive to the obvious admiration of the centre court.” In all of his victories and in his lone defeat, he had not argued with referees, expressed frustration, or celebrated his performance, keeping his emotions firmly in check. “As the time draws near for choosing the Cape HeraldSportsmanoftheYear,”readoneeditorial,“wearegratefultohaveArthur Ashe’sexampletoremindusofthestandardsofgoodsportsmanshipweshould strive for.” Sy Lerman of the Johannesburg Star argued that Ashe had “transcended all pettiness” and won over most of his critics.1 Ashe’s 1973 visit to South Africa revealed both the strengths and the limitations of his increasingly well formed philosophy and political strategy. Unlike other black activists of the past, such as Muhammad Ali, Bill Russell, and Jim Brown, Ashe worked through established political channels and pushed for dialogue with white leaders. Against the advice of Dennis Brutus and other antiapartheid activists, he met personally with Piet Koornhof, traveled to Stellenbosch University, and relied on the advice and guidance of Owen Williams. This strategy of direct engagement had its drawbacks, such as forcing Ashe to accept promises from Koornhof that the government did not keep. Ashe’s apparent coziness with Williams and Koornhof angered antiapartheid stalwarts and activists in Soweto, in whose view his very presence in South Africa legitimized the apartheid government and set back the freedom movement. Transitions 180 arthur ashe His silence in the media, a condition of his visit, also allowed Vorster, South African politicians and reporters, and supporters of apartheid to frame the signi ficance of his visit for their own political purposes. Die Burger, an Afrikaner newspaper with ties to Vorster’s Nationalist Party, claimed that the visit had corrected most of Ashe’s ill-informed opinions of South Africa. Ashe’s previous impression of South Africa, noted Die Burger, had been informed by “slanted and maliciously false propaganda,” and now he understood the reasons for apartheid even if he disagreed with them. Die Burger’s hypothesis could not have been further from the truth. Ashe hated apartheid now more than ever. His silence, however, permitted the Nationalists to interpret the visit to serve their own political agenda.2 These conflicts, which resulted from Ashe’s belief in gradual progress, his desire to negotiate with black and white leaders, and his insistence on working within the mainstream political system, persisted into 1974 and 1975. He continued to face criticism from both ends of the political spectrum. Militant activists in the United States and South Africa questioned his tempered approach and perceived deference to white officials. To them he was a sellout, an elitist, an Uncle Tom. “Don’t tell me about Arthur Ashe,” quipped Billie Jean King in September 1973. “Christ, I’m blacker than Arthur Ashe.” Other activists, such as Dennis Brutus, assailed Ashe for traveling to South Africa and meeting with white government officials.3 While his opinions on race, civil rights, and apartheid baffled his critics, Ashe’s performance on the tennis court equally perplexed sportswriters and fans.Oftenthe“bridesmaid”butrarelythe“bride,”helostfourteenofnineteen championship matches during one stretch, leading some frustrated fans to questionhiscommitmenttothesport.Hisunevenplayhintedatadeeperinternal conflict, one that he struggled with all his life. The balance between tennis and activism, patriotism and militancy, race representation and individualism— a double consciousness of sorts—tugged at his very being. Ashe’s activism required that he do one thing; his sport, another.4 Between December 1973 and the spring of 1975, events on and off the court, at home and abroad, dominated Ashe’s energies. From the fight against apartheid in South Africa and the infusion of the women’s liberation movement into professional tennis to his professional commitments with the ATP, endorsement contracts, and civil rights work, Ashe was a man tugged in many directions. These events, issues, and developments spoke to Ashe’s complex views on race, gender, the amateur ethic, and the generational divide in tennis. Though many would try, he became even more difficult to pin down. transitions 181 j i On November 29...