Respect and Disrespect: Beyond The "Trophy' Controversy

by

Agnimitro Ghosh, Sem V, 2023

Night had descended in the thick forests of Kanha. Mathew Halbert, one of the chief officers of a Textile Factory under the East Indian Company had set up camp in one of the clearing in the forests. Earlier that day, arrangements had been made in the huge Neem tree located in the mysterious depths of the jungle, so that our gallant officer, armed with his beloved double barreled Black Powder Express could have a steady aim at the site where the bait goat had been situated strategically. 

The unconquerable beast of the dark, the one who is feared by all, the terrible one, was to be conquered.

Veni. Vidi.Vici.

Locals had reported seeing the magnificent creature with the yellow coat adorned with long swathes of black.

The villagers were ready with drums and sticks, if the goat was spared by the tiger, they would be the one to lure it with noise, into the clean shot of Mr. Halbert, whose stable nerves would be more than ready to kill.

As Mr. Halbert climbed up the tree, his breathing deep, adrenaline coursing through his veins, it was only a matter of time till the huge cat showed up.

He could see the goat in front of him, the area around him lit up from soft moonlight that penetrated the thick covering. It was a full moon night.

Hours passed, Mr.Halbert, tired of waiting, had almost dozed off into sleep.

Sleep left him abruptly, when he heard the silence of the jungle get shattered by the goat bleating loudly, the poor creature struggled in a futile attempt to escape its impending doom.

His fingers pressed on the trigger, his senses focused around the goat, nerves steady, breathing deep - he braced himself.

And through the thicket, the tall figure of the beast jumped on the goat, a flash of yellow, fast - a blur made radiant by the moonlight.

Boom!

Boom!

The reverberations of the gunshots echoed through the tangled foliage, birds around the area fled in shock, commotion and chaos ensued in the animal world.

 

The day after was a sunny one. Mr Halbert, with his dear wife, stood in front of the jungle - in the clearing where he had set  up his tent the day prior.

 

The tiger lay in front of them. Dead.

 

“Say Darling, a fancy little cat, eh? ” Halbert enquired.

“Oh yes, the skin would look so beautiful in our drawing room.” 

“Get ready for the photo now.”

“Oh dear, I was so anxious when you went to kill this beast, it must be over 10 feet in height, this one!.”

“Smile now.” Said the officer, planting his right foot on the motionless beast.

 

Click.

And more than a hundred and fifty years later, this photo(below) would surface on the web, that would break the internet. Just a day prior, the Indian cricket team had suffered a terrible loss in the hands of the mighty Aussies. The loss cost them the World Cup, which rested in the hands(or feet) of the Aussies now. For the next four years, they are THE champions.

Cummins shared the picture, which was likely taken in the hotel room, hours after Australia lifted the World Cup trophy for the sixth time on Sunday. In the picture, Marsh had both his legs resting on the top of the trophy while he flaunted his gold medal.

Background of this post:

As soon as the picture of Marsh went viral, social media users called the gesture ‘disrespectful’. This created a huge controversy, where the mob had divided into two distinct groups. One group called out Marsh as disrespecting the trophy, the other defended him by stating that it is not considered disrespectful in their culture.

Although I belonged to the third group, the one that is indifferent to social media dramas, especially the ones purported by the emotional fans who cannot bear the fact that the trophy had slipped out of their hands, my beloved professor Suman Nath, told me to cover this issue through the lens of cultural relativism.

“It has become a major issue here, but this is simply a cultural difference. They don't consider keeping feet as insulting to something.

Can anyone write a blog post on this using the theory of cultural relativism or on overall Anthropology?” He said.

 Although I do agree that a lens of cultural relativism can be used to study this phenomena, I don’t agree with this sentence, “They don't consider keeping feet as insulting to something.”

 Now, what makes me not agree?

In India, the Hindu community I grew up in, believes in animism(the attribution of a living soul to plants, inanimate objects, and natural phenomena.) and touching feet to an object is considered disrespectful to that object(except for shoes). We even apologize to Mother Earth, for she, being so loving, bears our weight, she lets us play around in her breasts. And she lets us trample her.

 The Muslims also have restrictions put up in place, to not touch feet or even point with feet the holy objects.

 Although Christians do not have any direct rules regarding feet, I am pretty sure that it would be problematic  to them if Marsh had a Bible under his feet, in the place of the cricket trophy.

 Here’s an atheistic example: if the trophy had been replaced with a photo of Stalin, and published in a magazine in the USSR, Marsh would be executed.

 The same with a Hitler photo in Nazi Germany, and a Kim photo in North Korea.

 The Australian flag, if put under the feet of Marsh, with him flexing his biceps as a sign of victory and dominance - might have put him off the Australian team.

 So it is evident that any object of reverence, cannot be put in that position, under his feet without getting Marsh in trouble.

 But, there’s a catch. The trophy, acting as the signifier of the immense competition, hard work, sweat, blood, hopes and dreams of fans and players alike(to Indians) - is simply not respected by the Aussies.

The point I’m getting to is.

 “To disrespect something, there has to be a sense of respect in it in the first place.”

This brings me back into the thick forests of Kanha, where under the right foot of Mr. Halbert, rested the huge dead beast, the trophy. Trophies are not objects of reverence to the Aussies(or Mr. Halbert), they are but objects of admiration, victory, and dominance.

 I write this piece, not to grill the Aussies, I refrain from choosing a side - as a good anthropologist must.

In many of the Maori tribes, the heads of enemy chiefs killed in battle were preserved; these head trophies were known as mokomokai, being considered trophies of war, would be displayed on the marae and mocked. 

H.G. Robley with his mokomokai collection.

Trophy, what is that?

Let’s look at the word trophy. From Wikipedia,

“A trophy is a tangible, durable reminder of a specific achievement, serving as recognition or evidence of merit.”

 

From the same website, we shall delve into how trophies came to be.

 

“Originally the word trophy, derived from the Greek tropaion, referred to arms, standards, other property, or human captives and body parts (e.g., headhunting) captured in battle. These war trophies commemorated the military victories of a state, army or individual combatant. In modern warfare trophy taking is discouraged, but this sense of the word is reflected in hunting trophies and human trophy collecting by serial killers.”

 

Trophies were, much to the horror of the Indian Cricket fans, never meant to be respected.

 

This is what I think separates the Aussies from the Indians.

 

I remember when I won my first trophy. I was five, and it was from a drawing competition. I had shyly entered the stage and received the award(almost snatched it from the presenter), and felt very awkward in front of the scores of people applauding - I had scooted the trophy out of the stage and had crashed into my mother who was standing backstage. She had scolded me intensely, for I had not shown grace, politeness and respect in receiving the award in front of all those people.

I remember my mother would clean the various trophies I had collected from my various stints in art, sports and literature - daily.

 When we moved to another house, I had declared that I did not need the trophies and I was going to throw them out.

 “Throw them out? Are you mad?” my mother retorted, “The people who made all the arrangements for the tournaments that you had won, the people who had made the trophy, the people who bought it, the people who lovingly gifted you the trophy, the people who competed for the tournament and lusted after that trophy, and your past self - who had worked day and night to win them  - they do not mean anything to you now? Don’t you dare.”

 Cultural relativism can be applied right here. Aussies choose to view the trophy as only an accomplishment, another tick in their checklist. Another statistic. But we Indians are almost reminded of the much revered clay idols of our Gods, when we look at the trophies.

 Aussies, and probably most of the Westerners, probably treat the trophies as a mere reminder of an accomplishment, a “Veni Vidi Vici” moment, another thing conquered - it might even be parallel to how they would treat the lands and people they colonized. The huge expanses of countries conquered by the Britishers, in India, Australia, North America are not but mere trophies to them.

 And as I was writing this piece, trying my best to gather my thoughts from the sphere of mangled intuition and blurry visuals - a particular thought crossed my head.

 Had I not, through graceful brushstrokes, through writing profusely nights after nights sacrificing  sleep, through being at the field at 5 AM to jog like a lunatic to get my body prepared for the upcoming under-14 tournament, only tried to win, to gather victory, to dominate my adversaries?

 Veni. Vidi. Vici?

 Yes, indeed.

Trophies, to me at least, have never been that respectful. The one with the trophy in his hand has always been respectful. Or under his feet.

So, I have come to this conclusion - we respect trophies too much, in India.

 

NOTE : The account of Mr. Halbert is a completely made up one, but there have been countless examples of Britishers hunting tigers in India, almost driving them into extinction. The photo is a one I found on google, I do not have any information on it. 

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