Between the Springbok and Ikhamanga – The Untold Story of South Africa’s Black  Rugby Exiles[1]

Hendrik Snyders
University of Stellenbosch

Introduction
Between the late 1950s and mid 1970s, a notable number of very talented Black and White rugby union players left South Africa in search of fame and fortune in the ranks of rugby leagues in Britain and Australia. Whereas white players like Tom van Vollenhoven, Colin Greenwood, Fred Griffiths, Dawie Ackermann, Martin Pelser, Gerry Van Zyl, and Wilf Rosenberg were internationally known, the case was different for the likes of Goolam Abed, Andile Duncan Pikoli, Enslin Dlambulo, Vernon Petersen, David Barends, Louis Neumann and Green Vigo. All of these players were national representatives (Springboks, Leopards, or Proteas) within the context of South Africa’s racially defined rugby structures and designations. Where white players enjoyed full national honours and were rewarded with the opportunity to compete regularly against the world’s best on the hallowed rugby grounds of Twickenham, Parc des Princes, Murrayfield, Cardiff Arms Park, Lansdowne Road and Eden Park or Ballymore, their Black counterparts were denied a similar opportunity. In addition, their national rugby bodies were refused admission into to the ranks of the International Rugby Board (IRB), forcing them to play the game for personal prestige, community pride and solidarity, bragging rights, and victory. These were precisely the values that distinguished the working class supporters of the running game from their middle class counterparts, and that formed the basis for the split in the Rugby Football Union (RFU) and the formation of the Northern Union in Britain in 1895.[2]
Despite their obvious talent, not all the players mentioned had the same measure of success in rugby league or were able to secure a successful life and career after their playing days were over. Their struggles, sacrifices, failures, and successes are rarely acknowledge or mentioned in the rugby mainstream and are further complicated by a lack of formal records.  Although some individuals had their achievements acknowledged under the new South African Rugby Union’s (SARU) “Yesterday’s Heroes” Programme, the receipt of the national Order of Ikhamanga (Bronze) and induction into the South African Sports Hall of Fame respectively, the greater majority is largely forgotten and unknown. [3] Between their achievement of Springbok colours from their various ethnic associations and the receipt of the Order of Ikhamanga lies a history of struggle and great sacrifice, obscured by the mist of time and covered by the dust of history.  The aim of this paper is to record the untold story of South Africa’s African and Coloured rugby exiles and to place it in the main stream of South African history.

Writing Black Rugby History
Despite the pioneering work of professional historians such as Andre Odendaal and John Nauright, as well as the contributions of rugby historian Paul Dobson 1989 and amateurs such as Manie Booley, the notion that black South Africans lack an established rugby legacy has continued right into the post-apartheid rugby dispensation.[4] Whether this is from a lack of interest in the academic history of the sport amongst rugby fans, or because of the superficial nature and lack of depth and analysis in the feature articles of popular rugby magazines such as Rugby World South Africa [5] or Fifteen, [6] is debatable. The fact is that this situation has contributed to the continued denial of the black contribution to the building and expansion of the South African rugby and national identity[7] in an era where sport has become “an important signifier of national identity.”[8] Given the well established link that has been observed between rugby and manliness in diverse societies and in the academic discourse, this exclusion may even be interpreted as the continued denial of the manliness of the players in question. Against this background,  Eastern Cape columnist and African rugby writer, Jimmy Matyu, as well as uMkontho we Sizweveteran, Basil Kivedo, used public platforms, such as a newspaper column[9] and an arts festival10] respectively, to highlight the achievements of some of the legends of Black rugby. Critics, such as Vuyisa Qunta, also went as far as accusing the rugby establishment, broadcast media, and the S. A. Rugby Legends Association not only of ignoring the landmark publication by S. A. Rugby,titled 112 Years of Springbok Rugby; 1891 – 2003: Tests and Heroes,[11] but also of being involved in a deliberate attempt to airbrush the black legacy out of rugby history.[12]
To aggravate matters and to this day, the biography of Chester Williams by former journalist Mark Keohane remains the only publication that celebrates the career of a notable and iconic Black South African rugby player.[13]  Equally disappointing is Williams’ own admission of his limited knowledge of the same rugby tradition from which he emerged and benefited[14]  In contrast, a growing number of biographies and autobiographies, covering the life, playing, refereeing, or coaching careers of prominent white rugby personalities with immediately recognizable forenames (with significant advertising value),[15] were published over the last decade. In the recent past, titles on Francois Pienaar, Os Du Randt, and Andre Watson as well as Jake White were snapped up by interested readers who may or may not be rugby supporters.[16]

The situation with regard to the study of South African rugby league in general and Black players in particular, however, is far worse. Beyond the existence of some cursory references to league in some rugby union publications, no official history or substantive body of local knowledge focused on the two topics exists. This is not altogether surprising if one consider the remarks made by Hennie Gerber, one of the biographers of the late Dr. Danie Craven who erroneously argued that most of those who left to pursue a professional career were nobodies and players who lacked a famous name.[17] The evidence, however, indicates that this type of statement is not only untrue, but also indicative of the general lack of knowledge amongst mainstream Afrikaans sportswriters about Black sporting achievement in the heydays of apartheid and their slavish adoption of the establishment’s view on rugby league. Allie, in a much harsher argument, argued that, in the past, white sportswriters consistently displayed a sentiment that “‘black’ and ‘top class’ were words that didn’t go together”.[18] The preliminary study by Peter Lush, as well as the short biography of David Barends by Mike Rylance, therefore represents pioneering contributions towards the total reconstruction of South Africa’s rugby identity.[19]  The latter study, as far as could be ascertained, is also one of the first to unearth the hidden history of any one of South Africa’s black rugby league players.[20]
To do justice to the full rugby legacy, writing a full history of all South Africa’s rugby exiles, irrespective of colour and despite the problem of records, remains the ultimate challenge.[21] In the past, both amateur and professional historians struggled to compile a reliable reconstruction of the rugby past based on the available press reports, oral history, and the odd physical record.[22] This situation was not helped because the league, at the behest of local rugby union administrators, was officially repressed.[23] Matters seemed to have improved substantially under the current rugby union and league establishments. Both bodies recently announced concrete actions to rectify the situation and to give equal acknowledgement to all of the local rugby traditions. S.A. Rugby, through its Transformation Charter, has formally committed itself to the official recording and recognition of the Black rugby legacy in order to “establish a deep internalised appreciation of the rich history and tradition of black rugby among all South Africans,” whilst S.A. Rugby League has started to collect the details of both clubs and players for inclusion in an Honorary Roll that is to be maintained for posterity.[24] There is, therefore, a realistic hope that the attempt to document fully all the legacies that constitute the South African rugby identity will succeed through the collective effort by all the former administrators and players.

Politics, Bookmakers and Scouts – The Making of a South African Rugby League Player
By all accounts, a rugby league was officially introduced in South Africa in the 1950s as a result of the efforts of Johannesburg businessman Ludwig Japhet who succeeded, after long negotiations with the English Rugby League and despite public resistance in the United Kingdom, in bringing the 1957 Rugby League World Cup national sides of England and France to Benoni, East London, and Durban for a series of missionary exhibition games.[25]  Despite the obvious historical significance of these games, it does not mean that these events represented the first exposure of the local rugby fraternity to the rival code. On the contrary, local players and administrators were not only well aware of its existence but also of the rewards on offer. Recent research by Peter Lush also indicated that as far back as 1911, the Northern Rugby Union received a request for a “Coloured” tour. This was, however, turned down and is today lamented as a lost opportunity and one that could have aided the code in finding a niche in the South African Black communities.[26]

Key amongst the missionaries of the code were the league scouts and bookmakers who had, over the years, not only established a worldwide presence but were also instrumental in recruiting white Springboks such as Attie van Heerden and Tank van Rooyen to play for British clubs in the 1920s. They not only made a successful transition to the new code, but in due course also became club stalwarts and given their previous union success, were able to further advance the rugby league cause – much to the dismay of rugby union‘s administrators. As a result, the local white rugby establishment adopted the same mindset of their overseas counterparts by declaring league scouts as the enemy and publicly portraying them as evil beings and moral corruptors.[27] However, for those that were from the outset denied the opportunity to represent their country, the league scout was neither an evil being, reptile, “parasitical or viral agent”, “wraith-like figure,” nor a “shadow presence” but a guide towards economic and sporting opportunities.[28]br> Based on the available evidence, Mr. Japheth’s initiative never attempted to involve nor include Black administrators and players in the exhibition events. Nor was there any effort to capitalize on the existence of a near century long rugby tradition within the Black community. The pioneering promotional events were thus unashamedly steeped in the ideology of racial separation and apartheid that dominated life in South Africa at the time. This special event, in the end, also recorded rugby league’s first contribution to apartheid by creating its own scandal when Billy Boston, one the UK side’s most talented and able (black) players, refused to comply with apartheid South Africa’s conditions for visiting, such as separate travel and accommodation arrangements. His principals, however, decided to steer clear from politics and excluded him from the touring team  and proceeded with spreading the gospel of the thirteen man code locally.[29] Being black in a white team in segregated and apartheid-dominated South Africa during the 1950s, Boston learned, was all wrong.
Despite their exclusion from the rugby union mainstream, Black rugby administrators continue to provide representative rugby for their charges in the form of inter-racial “tests” between Africans and Coloureds. These “tests,” over time, acquired a special status within the Black community and became important arena for the making of men, albeit with different masculine practices.[30] These annual contests also served as a showcase for the available talent and an opportunity to display an equal measure of “commitment to muscle, and to arduous activity,” while in typical working class fashion, utilizing innovative play (“trickery”), intimidation, and aggressive competition to ensure victory.[31]  Against this background, preparations for Japhet’s exhibition matches proceeded apace. It also roughly coincided with an equal amount of preparations for the fifth ethnic “test” between the South African Coloured Rugby Board  XV (or the Coloured Springboks) and South African Bantu (or African) Rugby XV set down for 5 October 1957 in Port Elizabeth  through their respective inter-provincial Rhodes and Partons Cups competitions. This match as well as the previous four encounters and all subsequent contests, as indicated, were the racial alternative for full international competition and soon also became zones of prestige, emulation, and resistance.[32] It was during these tests and from this background that players such as Goolam Abed, Andile Pikoli, Enslin Dlambulo, and Winty Pandle established their claims to greatness en route to carving their own niche in rugby league abroad.

Ever since his selection as a Springbok for the South African Bantu Rugby Board (SABRB) on 7 October 1950, Winty Pandle regularly made rugby headlines. After the first test, the post match report recorded that Pandle “grubbered into the goal area and chased after the ball, at which stage he was tackle” that  resulted in a penalty try which helped to ensure victory by 14 -3 for the Africans. Over the course of five tests (1950-52), the nuggety but fast Pandle sets the standard for attacking wing play in the Black rugby fraternity despite having to play his rugby under atrocious conditions, which often included having to dodge interfering spectators on township fields while in the process of scoring tries.[33] With his reputation cemented as one of the most dangerous backs in Black rugby, there was, however, nowhere else to go.

In order to provide incentives for further excellence for their players, the two black rugby boards engaged in talks to bring about the formation of a single body with a view to secure international tours. Unsurprisingly, the first destination on their tour list was a possible visit to New Zealand to play the Maoris, the black alternative for the “old enemy” and the “one that count.” This choice displayed an unarticulated acceptance of what Nauright and Black have labeled as the “continuing process of ritual affirmation” of the All Black-Springbok saga.[34] To realize this dream, no time was wasted and no time was lost in starting a fundraising drive.[35] This idea was short-lived, however.  A possible tour to Fiji, the victors in the series against Australia in 1953, was then investigated, seemingly as an opportunity to prove the ability of the local black rugby establishment to hold their own against the best. With this in mind, a combined nonracial African-Coloured Federation Team was selectedthat included players such as Pandle.  This dream to formally represent their country against the same opposition that defeated their white compatriots never materialized, given the persistent opposition as well as “misgivings”[36] from the white South African Rugby Board (SARB).[37] In addition, the prevailing unstable political situation and increasing levels of political discontent convinced the authorities to deny some Black sportspersons travelling documents.[38] Despite these setbacks and their obvious disappointment, the chosen players bounced back and continue to blossom and excel, albeit on their ethnic stage.
Unaware of the keen competition on the other side of the railway tracks, but greatly encouraged by the attempt by the locals to establish the code, the leadership of British rugby league and their charges, minus Boston, continued with their tour. For their actions and compliance with South Africa’s racial laws, they were severely criticized by sections of the British rugby league media.[39] In addition to this, the white South African Rugby Board, (custodians of the fifteen men code) went out of their way to oppose the exhibition of the rival code. The late Danie Craven in particular went as far as trying to persuade the East London City Council not to lend any support or acknowledgement to the teams and the planned event, and to resist professional rugby and “preventing Huddersfield.”[40] Although this contributed to the abandonment of the local match, the attempt however failed to suppress the growing interest in league.  Craven’s attempt to mobilize politics against league, although consistent with his aversion for professional rugby, at the same time contradicted his own long held philosophy and public position namely that:
“…in the game there is no place for class difference, here the game in itself is the politics and religion, if used for something else, then the game will suffer, if it becomes a burden, obligation or work, it ceases to be a game.”[41]

The events surrounding the Japhet Initiative to launch rugby league in South Africa clearly showed Craven’s willingness and ruthlessness, even to the extent of compromising his principles, to use whatever means he had at his disposal to fight rugby league. Unable to prevent the exhibition matches, the SARB, under his presidency, took active steps to repress the further growth of the new code amongst white players. To discourage their players from joining the code, affiliated clubs were encouraged to bar such players from their facilities. In addition, former union players were denied any further contact with the code whilst Springboks who have crossed the divide were requested to return their national colours. This action was labelled by the renowned rugby journalist, A. C. Parker (1970), as pure pettiness.[42] Furthermore, such individuals were banned from facilities under the control of affiliates of the SARB. Away from the field of play, attempts were also made either to discourage certain booking agencies with union connections from selling tickets for promotional league games or to decline any other business from league promoters.[43] It is unfortunately not clear, because of limited evidence, what the attitude of Black rugby administrators were. Given their continued exclusion from international competition, it is however safe to conclude that they most probably did not share the same sentiments as their white counterparts. Returning players, as far as could be ascertained, were also generally allowed back into the fold.[44] Given the mainstream rugby establishment view, and its allegiance to the dictates of the IRB, the decision by both white and black players to go professional therefore represents their first step towards self-exile.

Despite its failure to make major inroads, the exhibition tour did enough to convince a few more white players to join the professional ranks. Some, like Oupa Coetzer, even left without securing an initial contract.[45] On the 26th October 1957, a mere three weeks after Goolam Abed and Enslin Dlambulo made their respective debuts in the  second inter-racial test, the legendary Springbok, Tom van Vollenhoven, defected and was contracted by the St. Helens Rugby League Club for a fee of £4000 sterling after outbidding Wigan.[46] In comparison, nothing changed for those Black players who had just finished their second “test” on their less resourced facility in the township. At least the ColouredSpringboks walked away with personal and group pride as well as full bragging rights for a year, after their victory of 18 – 11 in a match regarded by some as probably the highlight of Goolam Abed’s local career.[47]

In April 1958, as a result of tactical and personality differences, unity in the ranks of the SACRB was shattered by a breakaway of 14 unions and 10,000 players to form Western Province League.The new union in time became the driving force behind the founding of another “Coloured” national body called the S. A. Rugby Football Federation[48]and thereby added new difficulties to an already complex rugby situation. Despite the administrative squabbles within Black rugby at large, new talent continue to emerge while recently capped players, like Abed and Dlambulo, continue to make their mark.

The 1960s was a particularly bad time for all South Africans, including rugby players. The first major national shock of the new decade was the killing of Black protestors at Sharpeville on the 21st of March 1960 after a protest march against the country’s notorious and restrictive pass laws. Following shortly thereafter on 8 April was the banning of Black political organizations, like the African National Congress (ANC) and the Pan Africanist Congress (PAC), the declaration of a nationwide state of emergency, and increased repression of the opponents of racial segregation and apartheid (including Black rugby players and administrators) as well as the declaration of the White Republic on 31 May 1961. These events and the subsequent restrictions placed on freedom of movement further limited the already sparse opportunities for talented Black individuals and left them with increased frustrations. In the wake of these measures and a lack of progress toward rugby unity, leaving the country in search of self actualization became the only option. Encouraged and assisted by league scouts, local journalists, and ironically by the recommendations of white South African players such as Ivor Dorrington and former Springbok Louis Babrow, various players were persuaded to depart for overseas.[49]

From the South to the North – Exits and New Beginnings
Amongst the first to leave on the eve of receiving his fourth national cap in 1961 was Goolam Abed, Western Province and the City and Suburban Rugby Union, accompanied by Louis Neumann of Thistles Rugby Football Club, in a deal facilitated by Babrow and Jim Windsor, a Yorkshire bookmaker.[50] As unknowns in the white mainstream media, but armed with the recommendation of a former White Springbok, both players were offered a guaranteed paid return trip and a stint as amateurs but with no guarantee of a professional contract [51] with Leeds Rugby League Club in the United Kingdom. In contrast, their white counterparts, based on their reputations (and possibly even race), were able to secure such contracts even before leaving South Africa.[52] Playing as amateurs meant that the rookies still had to prove their worth before being considered for a more substantial and professional contract.

Beginning in his debut match against Hunslet, Abed, a backline player, struggled to make his mark in a very competitive code. Neumann, on the other hand, had far less problems as a tight forward and was able to make his mark right from the outset. Ironically, within the Leeds set-up, both players find themselves as equals to their white compatriot and former Springbok centre, Wilf Rosenberg. After a bumpy start as a trialist and with the assistance of Rosenberg, [53] Abed sufficiently impressed the scouts and was offered a five year contract worth £1000 sterling per year as a centre and wing by the Bradford Northern Rugby League Football Club (RLFC) (now the Bradford Bulls).[54] During his three year stint at the club, he played in 46 first class matches and scored five (5) tries and 55 goals.[55] This was followed by a further two seasons with Batley RLFC (now the Batley Bulldogs) where he continued his good form and played 36 top level matches and scored four (4) tries as well as 44 goals before his eventual retirement as a result of an injured shoulder.[56]
After his successful Leeds debut, Neumann fully established himself in the code and was able to secure a contract with the Australian club, Eastern Suburbs (later the Sydney Roosters) where he stayed for four seasons (1967 -1971). During this time, he made 81 first class appearances for the club. In addition, he earned further accolades by becoming their player-coach during a difficult 1969 season, a mere two years after starting his league career and added another 22 matches as coach, albeit with mixed successes, to his league record.[57] Having made his name with one of Australia’s foremost clubs,[58] he obtained a new contract with the Orange Ex-Services RLFCin New South Wales.[59]

Following his breakthrough in the new code and based on his own experiences, Abed had the opportunity to open the way for one of his rugby peers. When asked to identify a player of equal talent and ability for recruitment, he had no hesitation in nominating his former opponent in the rugby tests between Coloured and African, namely Enslin Dlambulo.[60] In recognition of the endorsement and trust of his compatriot, Dlambulo, an agile and athletic loose forward,[61]took the opportunity offered with both hands to suitably impress the talent scouts and joined Abed in 1962 at Bradford Northern. At Bradford they were soon joined by another compatriot from the ranks of Black rugby, namely Vernon Petersen, an SACRB Springbok of the 1964 test against the S. A. Rugby Federation. In addition, the African Springboks Andile Pikoli and Winty Pandle joined Barrow RLFC in 1962/3 to add a further blow to Black rugby in pursuit of their dreams. Like their predecessors, they left “without any official recognition of their time wearing the national jersey”[62] or without having had the opportunity to “uphold the honour of the mother country and to symbolize national definition in the world.”[63]

As in the Leeds situation, Abed, Petersen, and Dlambulo found themselves in the same team as one of their white compatriots, Rudy Hasse. During this time, which is also regarded in the club’s history as its most difficult period, Dlambulo played in 26 first class matches in which he scored three (3) tries.[64] In addition, he also spent valuable time playing for the reserve side. This start was soon complicated when, on the 10th of December 1963, the club went out of business. Fortunately for the newly-contracted players, it reformed in 1964. During this difficult time both Dlambulo and Abed, with limited options at their disposal, remained with the club until the end of the 1964/65 season. This decision proved to be the right thing as it allowed them to repay their debt to the club and to get fully acquainted with the code. As a result Dlambulo was able to obtain a two-year contract with Keighley RLFC at Lawkeholme Lane, where he stayed until his retirement in 1968.[65]

Ironically Rugby League South Africa, formed after a merger between the rival National Rugby League and Rugby League South Africa in 1963, and supposedly the custodians ofthe league code in South Africa, was in a very poor state.[66] Also steeped in the ideology of apartheid, they could not offer black players a local alternative for rugby union. In the end, league racial exclusivity, disorganization, and internal squabbles in the ranks of Black rugby associations together with rugby and political apartheid and hostility to league on the side of the IRB-recognized SARB left talented Black players with no other alternative than to seek a future abroad. To further aggravate matters, unity talks between the various rugby controlling bodies (SARFF, SARB, SARU and the SAARB) once again failed. By 1965, racial exclusivity on the social and rugby field was further strengthened by Prime Minister Hendrik Verwoerd’s declaration at the Loskop Dam that the New Zealand All Blacks would not be allowed entry if they decided to select Maoris for their touring side to South Africa.
By the start of the 1970s and with no significant improvement in sight, the second generation of talented Black rugby players also prepared to leave. The first of this new wave to depart, in December 1970, was David Barends, a S. A. Rugby Union Springbok and another talented playerfrom the Roslyns Club. Once again, the efforts of Leeds sports promoter Jim Windsor, this time assisted by the former SARB Western Province player Ivor Dorrington, resulted in the successful conclusion of a contract between Barends and Wakefield Trinity based on an initial sign-on fee of £1000 sterling.[67] After scoring two tries on debut, his place in the league ranks was assured, allowing him to settle down and spend three seasons with the club during which time he refined his game and polished his craft. Having served sufficient time with his first club and adjudging himself ready for higher honours, he contracted with York RLFC where he spent four productive years; he left with an enhanced reputation when he signed with Bradford Northern in 1977. During the Bradford years that lasted from 1977/78 – 1982/3, he made 202 first class appearances and scored 70 tries to establish him as one of their most potent and iconic players. Although not a British citizen at the time, by 1979 having fulfilled the required residency period, his efforts and talent were finally acknowledged when he was selected to represent Great Britain in the series against Australia.

Despite the on-going successes of South Africans on the league scene and the worsening political situation, nothing much changed in the administration of the local union game. In 1973, as has become customary, rugby unity talks failed once again and motivated more players to leave. Green Vigo, star of both the 1972 Protea tour to the UK and the Protea – England match during the same year at the Athlone Stadium, became the most high profile Black player of his era to join the ranks of league despite advice to the contrary. Having proved his worth against some of the best of Great Britain, Wigan RLFC, one of the glamour clubs in the league game, offered him a 5 year professional contract which included an initial signing-up fee, a pay package of R60 – 00 (sixty rand) for an away match, and R45 – 00 (forty – five rand) for a home match.[69] In his five seasons with Wigan (1973 – 1978), he made 168 first class appearances, scored 86 tries, and one (1) goal for a total of 260 points.[70] In the process he also established himself as one of their best players and one of the characters of the game.  By October 1980, after an extended run of bad luck as a result of a broken arm and an indifferent season, his contract was sold to Swinton RLFC for an amount of £15 000, substantially more than Widnes’offer of £14 000.[71] This clearly indicated Vigo’s league-worth in monetary terms. Career statistics covering his Swinton years remain outstanding. In 1982, after a two year stint with the club, he left to join Oldham RLFC on a three year contract where he played a further 63 matches and scored 20 tries for a total of 73 points[72] and thereby concluding a professional career that lasted more than a decade.

League and Life Abroad
In addition to acquainting themselves with the intricacies of rugby league, the rugby exiles had the additional challenges of getting used to playing with and against Whites as equals as well having to adapt to living in a free and open society. Contrary to any preconceived ideas that they might have had, racism in its various guises has been an integral part of rugby league ever since Lucius Banks of Hunslet RLFC, the first Black player, joined the code in 1912. This is not fully surprising given that the black or racialised body had for a long time functioned to “Otherise people of colour,”[73] leading to a situation where they, according to former league star, Roy Francis, automatically became “personalities”.[74] Given the frequency of their selection as centers and wings, the popular perception (and stereotypical view) of black players as “dangerous” because of their speed and aggressiveness was omnipresent. Melling & Collins and others  indicated that most black rugby league players, irrespective of nationality, had to endure incidences of racial taunting, positional segregation, and physical manhandling as well as open spectator hostility prior, during, and even after matches.[75] Participating in a semi-professional set-up also meant that all black players had to be prepared for professional jealousy (“here is another one after your job”) in the dressing room.[76]

The South African rugby exiles, already burdened by their own racial experiences, then entered into an arena that was far from perfect. Several of them over the course of their playing career, were indeed subjected to disparaging and hurtful comments by their opponents about their colour and nationality.[77] They also encountered and were exposed to strangers making denigrating racial remarks off the field.[78] Although none reported a similar experience, it would also come as no surprise if they had, like others before them, on occasion also had to suffer insults to wife and family. Despite these difficulties, Abed remarked:
I left South Africa because I was restricted there and could not develop further. Although there was racial prejudice on the part of spectators at the time, in Britain I tasted freedom and far less restrictions than in South Africa. It was difficult at times when players on other teams made comments about colour and nationality. But I usually ended up having a drink with them and becoming firm friends.[80]
This statement clearly indicated the high level of resolve that existed in their ranks and their determination not to allow these obstacles to cloud their vision. Furthermore, given that some of them were playing for a number of the most successful and trendsetting clubs in the game in the UK, perhaps a certain level of these experiences was to be expected. The full extent of such experiences, however, remains to be investigated.

In addition to coping with the demands of the game, successful integration into their new communities and adapting to the British climate became their other main challenges. Coming from the sunny southern hemisphere, daily exposure to rain and soft playing fields was not to everybody’s liking, making life extremely difficult and very nearly unbearable.[81] The first player to quit as a result of his inability to adapt to the climatic conditions, according to official club records, was Vernon Petersen.  Even during his very short stay, he still succeeded in making his senior breakthrough in the new code by successfully representing Bradford Northern in six first team matches.[82] Although he did not make a points difference during this time, that he was able to hold its own against competition from other more knowledgeable and experienced rivals, stands out. His compatriots, however, decided not to quit but to remain in pursuit of their dreams.

Based the experience of so many other foreign players, English language proficiency, adequate educational qualifications, and a proper support structure as well as an appropriate level of self-discipline were identified as key factors to successful integration into their new communities.[83] As could be expected, the players first and foremost had to overcome the psychological damage and feelings of inferiority inflicted upon them by the apartheid system.[84] Competing successfully against and playing with former white Springboks as their rugby league equals gain far greater significance in this context. That most exiles were able to hold their own in this new context surely helped matters along. Circumstances on the social side, however, were more complicated. From the available evidence, it is apparent that all the players, with the exception of Pandle and Vigo, had at least the benefit of a high-school education. The latter two only had a basic primary education and it was therefore not surprising that prior to their league entry, both were at the bottom of the traditional career pyramid as a casual worker and fisherman, respectively. Because rugby league was born out of the concerns of working people and its close identification with that particular class, these educational deficiencies were never grounds for exclusion. On the contrary, possessing the necessary ball skill and talents carried much more weight. Over the longer term, however, lacking the required educational and other skills became significant stumbling blocks to their full integration.

Players like Abed, Petersen, and Dlambulo at Bradford and Pikoli and Pandle at Barrow were fortunate enough to begin their league careers at the same club. Being acquainted, they were able to share the stress and strains of relocation. In the case of the Bradford contingent, in time they also had the benefit of the company of a group of Black South African cricketers (including Suleiman (“Dik”) Abed, Goolam’s brother) who were playing professional cricket in the UK.[85] As former teammates of Goolam, they were able to meet on a regular basis and became a network of mutual support for each other.[86] In this situation, even the value of the presence of their white fellow country men such as Rudi Hasse and Wilf Rosenberg, cannot be discounted. There is also evidence of the existence of a warm and friendly relationship between the Bradford-[87] and Leeds – based South African rugby exiles. This allowed them not only with an opportunity to establish a “family” away from home and to counter the inevitable home sickness during the course of their enforced exile, but also to maintain a support network for new arrivals.
Neumann who remained with Leeds and eventually left to further his career in Australia, as well as Vigo at Wigan, did not have the good fortune of sharing the overseas experience with fellow compatriots. From the evidence of one of his former team mates, it appeared as if Wigan lacked a formal player integration programme. According to Colin Clarke, “he was brought over from the outback in South Africa, dropped in the middle of Wigan and just left there. At the time there was no procedure to integrate him into society. He didn’t even know how to get back to his lodgings after training He was a class winger and a great entertainer, but he couldn’t come to grips with the culture.”[88]

Furthermorehis segregated past and rural background appeared to have aggravated, instead of assisting matters, and combined to get the player off to a veryproblematic start. Without suggesting that his own personal flaws be excused, it also appeared as if these early experiences fundamentally influenced Vigo’s subsequent career. Lacking evidence, it was not possible to reconstruct Neumann’s experience down under.

The second player to quit after the first two seasons in league (1961-1963) with Barrow RLFCwas Andile Pikoli. This period, known in the club’s history as the “yo-yo” years that followed the “golden years” which ended in 1957, meant that their arrival and stay coincided with Barrow’s demotion to the second division of the league.[88]  This placed the exiles in a very difficult situation. Given their situation at home, they had no other option than to persevere and to remain with the club until their contracts ran out. At the end of this term, Pandle returned home. Pikoli on the other hand, being much more outspoken and a political activist with links to the then banned African National Congress (ANC), did not place all his hopes on a rugby league career. As a committed and proud South African, it was his hope to play an active role in freeing his homeland and to bear witness to the demise of apartheid. This stance and open support for the banned political movements led to the refusal of the apartheid government to issue him a new passport and signalled his formal political exile. Unable to return home, he enrolled for an arts degree in social work at the University of Middlesex.  Upon graduation, he set up home in Surrey and embarked on his chosen career with the City of Westminster. When he became eligible for British citizenship, he refused on political grounds to apply for the same.[90]

The issue of British citizenship after a prolonged stay represented a very important watershed for most of these players. Renouncing South African citizenship in favour of a British one went way beyond merely satisfying economic and sporting ambitions and presented them with a new dilemma. By accepting new citizenship, they would formalise their own exile, meaning their presence in the UK would cease to be a temporary sojourn.  Already their successes on the playing field afforded them with new opportunities and a chance to enjoy life without segregationist barriers. What complicated matters further was the fact that over time, all five the remaining the players, being single men, established romantic relationships and eventually married (white) British women. This apparently normal event, however, had serious political and social implications for the players concerned. Having married outside of their racial group was in direct conflict with apartheid South Africa’s ban on mixed or interracial marriages and therefore represented an act of defiance. It also meant that none of them would be able to return home with their spouses. Any attempt to do so could only led to imprisonment and humiliation. This message was vividly brought home to all and sundry when Goolam Abed was rewarded with a passport cut into pieces after his marriage and acceptance of British citizenship, signifying formal exile from his motherland.[91]

Despite these difficulties, the rugby exiles persevere and succeeded in establishing themselves as stalwarts for their respective teams. Being sufficiently competitive enabled them to attract more lucrative contracts from other clubs and allowed them to build stable careers. It is clear from the available statistics that the rugby exiles not only succeeded in mastering the code but also were able to compete as equals with their British and international counterparts. Although only David Barends succeeded in obtaining national honours after becoming a British citizen, all of them left an indelible mark on the clubs and communities in which they eventually settled. It is also believed that they, like their Australian counterparts, helped to shape and define the culture of English rugby league.[92]

The After Years
With their best rugby years behind them, the exiles retired to pursue new careers and interests. Crucial to this phase were the possession of special vocational or social skills (especially sporting skills) and the extent of their social integration into their respective communities to help them to cope with life beyond rugby league.
Having experienced the folding of his first club at a very tender stage of his rugby league career, Abed realised the necessity of diversifying his interests and using the full range of his capabilities. As an accomplished cricketer in his own right, he developed a parallel cricketing career during the summer and non-rugby league season. Retirement from rugby in 1967/8, therefore, signalled the beginning of a professional cricket career with Rochdale Cricket Club in the Central Lancashire League. Based on a successful spell at his first club, he secured further spells, both as a professional and amateur with Castleton Moor, Balshaw (Bolton Cricket Association)and Nelson cricket clubs, respectively. In addition to this, as a qualified printer engraver, he established and developed a printing and engraving business in Rochdale. He also successfully combined his professional career with a variety of community-oriented roles on and off the field of play. Through this civic-orientation, he earned the respect of all and was honoured by his community as the “cricketer who broke down the racial barriers.”[93]

Like his friend and fellow player, Goolam Abed, Dlambulo also left Bradford Northern in 1964 and started a new career in Keighley. While playing rugby on a semi-professional basis, he took up employment with the multinational company, Magnet, and remained there until his formal retirement. Being a dedicated sportsman, he also played squash on the local community circuit and took up practicing the martial arts after his playing days were over. After qualifying as a black belt karate instructor, he expanded his community involvement by presenting martial arts classes as well as staying active in the Association of Former Keighley Players.[94]

Life after rugby league took a somewhat different turn for political activist and radical, Andile Duncan Pikoli. After his very short venture into league, he embarked on a life-time career as a social worker. Career success was no guarantee for marital bliss and Pikoli, the committed ANC veteran and cadre,[95] eventually divorced his English wife, never to remarry.  On the economic front, things also did not work out as planned. At the time of his death in August 2004 at the age of 70 years, he was a lonely and impoverished man, estranged from his South African family. Sadly, this family had to rely on the sympathy and assistance of strangers for both his cremation in London and internment in South Africa.[96]

Winty Pandle, like Vernon Petersen as previously indicated, had a very short stint with rugby league. Although he had all the required personality traits (loud, jovial, and exuberant character and good dancer), his career progress was severely constrained by his lack of a high school education.[97]  Being armed with only a basic primary education, securing a good life outside of rugby league became so much harder. Very little is known about his playing career after he returned home. He passed away in 2003 without ever achieving the recognition to which he was entitled.

After a 13 year playing career in rugby league, Green Vigo finally retired from the game in 1985 and continued to live in the north of England. By choice, he completely disappeared from the rugby league scene. In comparison to other former players who capitalized on their status by becoming coaches or managers. Green made a clean break with the game and into anonymity except for the occasional media reports.  As a result of this decisive break, some newspapers prematurely reported his death.[99] Earlier contemporary reports also relayed an image of a lonely man who have not really benefited from his productive playing years despite having all the required talent.[100]  At present, he is spending more time with friends and family both in Britain and South Africa whom he recently visited.

In comparison, David Barends went on to represent his adopted country in the international rugby league arena. Barends won his fair share of honours in the game and continues to work for the National Probation Service in South Yorkshire. He serves on the Community and Standards Committee of the South Yorkshire Police Authority’s Policing and Racial Equality Independent Advisory Group that deals specifically with Black and ethnic minorities.[101]

Conclusion
Based on the available evidence, the triple exiles (the players in this study) in terms of race, rugby code, and citizenship, and to a lesser extent even politics, were no less men than their white counterparts. As skillful and competent rugby players, their overseas venture proved beyond a doubt that they indeed possessed the required talent and ability and would not only have contributed equally towards the enrichment of South Africa’s national rugby identity, but would also have brought honour to the national jersey. With rugby fields declared as arenas of war, and victory over the enemy as essential instruments of building national pride, the proven ability of the players established them as a counter hegemonic force and therefore an anathema to the supporters of apartheid. While in the current epoch, others may reflect on the past in order to escape present realities or to legitimize their positions, this small fragment of the history of black rugby is both aimed at reclaiming the past in order to broaden the “knowable past” and contributing to the efforts to record the fullness of South Africa’s national rugby identity.[102]