Rarely has a multilateral sports competition recently been so rife with conflict-related controversy as the Dubai 2025 Asia Cup. Russia’s participation in the 2024 Olympics and the 2022 FIFA World Cup might be cited as examples, but sporting authorities chose those actions quietly behind closed doors. However, this Asia Cup contest turned out to be a whole new experience. The three matches between India and Pakistan featured theatrical displays of jingoism, including hand gestures that resembled crashing fighter jets, refusals to offer match officials who had allegedly engaged in verbal altercations with the match officials, and what appeared to be a proxy conflict between the two cricket boards.
This intensity comes from a long history. Both nations have engaged in numerous conflicts, and their cricketing ties have been severely strained. They have only played one bilateral series, which was hosted by India in 2012, since the 2008 Mumbai attacks, which were carried out by gunmen linked to Pakistan. The players maintained their poise and neutrality on the rare occasions they did cross on the field. Players and politicians acting in the same way have now stifled that line. The way the Asia Cup this year took place provided compelling evidence that cricket is being militarized intentionally to support a spectacle that generates billions of dollars.
At a post-match press conference on September 14th, India’s captain Suryakumar Yadav made similar remarks with even greater passion after India beat Pakistan in the final just two weeks later despite being fined for making comments that were deemed politically appropriate. Haris Rauf, a fast bowler for Pakistan and who gave up 50 runs in his final four overs, was also found guilty of abusing the play. After imitating the alleged collision of six Indian fighter jets during the May clashes between the neighbors, he was fined 30% of his match fee. The gesture by Rauf quickly became popular.
Ironically, Yadav and Rauf both had subpar tournament performances, but they both displayed hypernationalism with the utmost passion. Probability is that this is the current state of affairs: Fans are likely to validate and keep players informed with social media theatrics and non-sporting shenanigans more than they do with actual player contributions.
The Indian team also turned down the opportunity to meet Mohsin Naqvi, the president of the Asian Cricket Council (ACC), who is also a Pakistani minister and head of the country’s cricket board. A winning team was celebrating empty-handed because the ACC removed the silverware from the prize ceremony and did not give it to the winners after India turned down the trophy from Naqvi. Former Indian player and coach Ravi Shastri, who is now a well-known commentator, called the situation “ridiculous.” Not just on one side, the entire tournament was nothing short of jingoistic tomfoolery. Sports are intended to repair and foster diplomacy, not to break up communities.
Cricket, a gentleman’s game, was ruined by this blurred line between sport and conflicting foreign policy. In a tweet from his official X-channel, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi claimed that India’s performance was “Operation Sindoor” on the field, with the same outcome as winning. The prime minister “compares a deadly conflict where both armed forces and civilians were killed… to a cricket match,” according to journalist Suhasini Haidar. The conflicting environment created throughout the tournament is best represented by this tweet and its analysis. Any sane citizen would not agree with comparing a game to a serious military conflict that claimed lives, caused grievance for thousands of families, and caused economic harm.
The sheer hypocrisy at play contributes to this display’s even more troubling aspect. In response to political unrest and security concerns, the Indian Board of Control for Cricket has made a show of refusing to play bilateral cricket with Pakistan. India and Pakistan are undoubtedly going to battle it out in multilateral tournaments, frequently more than once, when the stakes are high and sponsors are competing for millions of dollars. What started out as a boycott of the first match turned into a full-fledged festival by the final, and even the Indian masses eventually gave in. Every viral clip of an on-field provocation fuels engagement, and every eyeball that is fixed to the screen generates revenue. This cricket-related businesslike militarisation creates a setting where players are paid more for their jingoistic behavior than their excellence.
On the other hand, Pakistan’s board and players haven’t been saints either. The way Rauf’s gestures, which resemble crashing Indian jets, demonstrate that he is playing to the gallery rather than to the game’s spirit. They resorted to trivial provocations to stay in the spotlight in addition to their cricket instead. All of this demonstrates to the next generation of cricketers that national pride is just as crucial as and perhaps more important than sports discipline.
After a game, players who perform with a certain hangover that is brought on by the environment there suffer as well as their performance and interactions with rival team members. If two of the world’s most significant cricketing nations act in this manner, it sets a bad precedent for emerging markets trying to compete. This cup literally created more tension and allowed warlike emotions to pour over the 22 yards, which is the opposite of what sport is supposed to represent.
Fans would have a chance to enjoy the game without being constantly enraged by politics, so it would be better for the sport and for those who genuinely admire it. Better is what Cricket deserves. The least they can do is admit it to the public if those at the top continue to use every India-Pakistan conflict as a proxy war for profit. The disgrace that it brought upon the game will be remembered more than the runs scored or the wickets taken in the 2025 Asia Cup. Perhaps that is the saddest commentary ever.
The only way forward is to ban them until they bring about a sense of decency, it is argued. Why should neutral fans around the world, including Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, and other nations, be forced to endure the poisoning of multilateral tournaments by two nations that view cricket as a form of conflict and xenophobia? India and Pakistan’s temporary withdrawal from international competitions would send a clear message that cricket cannot survive in a nationalistic setting.
However, it’s simpler to say than to implement a ban. Pakistan continues to be a significant draw despite India’s financial dominance of the International Cricket Council (ICC). Their matches produce the viewership figures that keep sponsors interested. No board has the guts to ignore its largest market, not the ICC, of course. The end result is a paradox: cricket’s survival depends in part on the contests that undermine its spirit. Cricket will continue to be a slave to this destructive rivalry as long as money dictates decisions.
