There’s a lot that binds India and Australia when it comes to cricket. A long and storied history littered with genuine greats of the game, a passionate and at times unforgiving fan base, and the reality that cricket is the de facto (if unofficial) national sport of each nation. But if social media is anything to go by, Indian fans regard Australia as the new Pakistan, and to Australian fans, India is the new England. Perhaps it’s because, unlike relations with each of their traditional rivals, Indians and Australians do not understand much about each other’s culture, and it often shows. Indian and Australian humour
Much of the rivalry between Indian and Australian fans has unsurprisingly coincided with the increasing closeness of the contest between the teams. In this millennium, the Border-Gavaskar Trophy has emerged as the marquee drawcard in all forms of cricket, especially given the slow and painful decline of Pakistan cricket and the general one-sidedness of Ashes cricket.
Almost every series has become an instant classic, if occasionally for the wrong reasons: think ‘Homework-Gate’ in 2013 which saw Australia suspending four players, as well as ‘Monkeygate’ in 2008, when relations between the teams – and fans – reached their most acrimonious.
But it is moments like these on which competition feasts. And as the ongoing edition of the Border Gavaskar Trophy has proved, as potentially the most-watched Test series of all time, the significance of the contest has now reached fever-pitch, amongst both the players and fans. While they may be united in passion and pride, there’s little common ground when it comes to another fundamental tenet of a (healthy) sporting rivalry: the disparate natures of Indian and Australian humour.
Australian humour is typically sarcastic, crass and dry; it’s underpinned by what some may consider colourful language, by political incorrectness, and above all else, a widely accepted principle: never take it personally. After all, there’s no easier way to fit into a group of Australians – or Brits – than to possess the innate ability to both dish it out and laugh at yourself. Indian and Australian humour
Indian humour though, is infinitely more measured. Perhaps it is natural in a country so vast and diverse, but there is an underlying current of sensitivity that dictates the bounds of humour. Combined with a growing intolerance of satire in Indian political and social life, it means there is rarely any safe harbour when it comes to entertaining without offending.
Indian MP Shashi Tharoor found himself targeted by millions who thought he had offended cows and Hindus when he joked about having to travel “cattle class”. Then there was comic Munawar Faruqui, who was jailed for a month for offending religious sentiments, after complaints by Hindu nationalists.
Closer to home, former Australian cricketer Kerry O’Keeffe was pilloried by Indian media in 2018 after likening a domestic Indian bowling attack as “Railways canteen staff”, while Travis Head received hate on social media after dismissing Rishabh Pant in the Boxing Day Test and making a gesture many Indian fans assumed to be obscene or in bad taste.
Unlike in India, Australian politicians, celebrities and authority figures – even the most powerful – are fair game for individuals and the fourth estate alike.
Indeed, being able to “take it” in good humour is effectively a prerequisite for becoming a popular figure in Australian public life; O’Keeffe’s comments would have barely raised an eyebrow in Australia, and neither did Travis Head’s celebration.
Pat Cummins has cleared up Travis Head’s wicket celebration. 😂 #AUSvIND pic.twitter.com/oNkAge98B5
— CODE Cricket (@codecricketau) December 30, 2024
Unfortunately though, Australia’s latitude for levity also breeds corners of excess, resulting in unacceptable racial undertones in social media discourse. From there, it rapidly becomes a race to the bottom.
This dichotomy goes a long way towards explaining why each set of fans – and media – might find the other insufferable, even if hypocritically. In Indian cricket media, it’s widely accepted and reported as fact that the Australian media orchestrates a concerted effort to act as a veritable 12th man for touring teams – even though Indian media, like English media, is no different in its tendency to sensationalise. Such is the dislike between the press packs that India’s media manager, support staff and travelling journalists alike boycotted a pre-arranged press match against Australian journalists over what we in Australia might label a “nothingburger”.
Of course, humour rarely translates well across languages, and that too plays a role. Though India is the second-largest English-speaking country in the world with nearly 130 million speakers, it is in the subtleties of language that humour finds its home: tone, context, subtext. And when these are misunderstood, the result is typecasting by Indians of Australians as disrespectful, or Indians by Australians as unnecessarily sensitive.
Rather than casting widespread aspersions, logic dictates that work needs to be done toexplain and understand the fundamental cultural nuances between the two countries. That will go a long way towards avoiding open hostility and keeping online debate within the realms of aceptable “banter”. Indian and Australian humour
